Going Rogue: An American Life (75 page)

As the ceremony unfolded, I mentally rehearsed my speech. The campaign was worried that the press would spin or misinterpret ir, so I was asked to submit my talking points to headquarters advance. Throughout the campaign, the Schmidt-Wallace tag team would continually invoke the all-powerful “headquarters,” a mysterious, faraway entity whose exact identity and location were never fully explained. By the end of the campaign, my VP teammates and I would look ar each other and say, “Who headquarters?”

Thankfully, headquarters was content with the message I was determined to convey. I took the podium of burnished oak and looked out at the thousands of young Americans

had all volunteered ro put their lives on the line in defense of our
I praised their bravery, commitment, and sacrifice. I couldn’t say
enough about them and our country. I asked fur God’s hand of protection over them.

And then, at the end, I just couldn’t help myselE I shouted out the forbidden word:
“Hoo-ah!”

I took one last

at the Stryker Brigade and grinned, knowing that somewhere amid the troops standing stock still in perfect formation, there was one soldier rolling his eyes.

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SARAH PALIN

9

On September 17, John and I held a joint rown hall session in Michigan

the Grand Rapids Community College Ford Fieldhouse. John was in his element, with such an easy way of connecting wirh a Main Srreer audience. He was wirty, charming, and in complere command of the issues. I was excired to participate in this formar for the firsr rime during the national campaign. Town hall meerings are my comfort zone, too, and were one of the keys to my administrarion’s success on energy issues in Alaska: just ger out and talk to rhe people. I was eager for more of rhem, hoping to campaign in ways my experience had shown me was most effective, instead of the orchestrated events the campaign operatives wanted to put us through.

I wound up with a personal connection in Grand Rapids: the Holmes family-the gracious and patient hosts whom Track had stayed with while playing hockey in Michigan during the 2006 season. It was a chance to give them a hug and tell them how much Todd and I appreciated their kindness to our son. On a larger scale, I felt the Holmes family represented the kind of people our ticket could resonate with in a state filled with hard
working, patriotic Americans, hockey moms, union members, p>

and veterans. Ohama waS leading by double digits there, but the Grand Rapids meering gave me hope that we could bounce back and turn the state around. I got to tell Michigan, “Thank you for taking care of my son-now he’s taking care of
you!”
Todd and I were sitting in a Michigan hotel toom where the campaign staffers were enjoying an emotional lift from the town hall meeting, when Schmidt, flanked by security personnel, walked in grim-faced and announced he had something important to discuss. I had just seen on TV a sickening report that my •

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Going Rogue

personal e-mails had been hacked into, and I figured that’s what he wanted to talk about. A cold hand squeezed my heart, though, as I wondeted if something else had happened with the kids back in Alaska. Bristol had been reporting strange vehicles creeping up and down our long gravel driveway. Secret Service agents had just stopped a local reporter-photographer team sneaking through the bushes coward our house. Reporters had taken co camping out near our members’ homes. Had one of them crossed rhe

line between reporting and invading privacy?

That was partially right. “Your personal e-mails have been hacked,” Schmidt confirmed. “The hacker is broadcasting your personal e-mails on the Internet right now. And photos, too.” And it wasn’t just Todd’s and my e-mails-it was the kids’, coo. And personal contact information. This came on the heels of my Social Security number and other private information being broadcast.
It
was another fine how-do-you-do:
Hi, welcome to the

blood sport known as presidential politics.

The TV was on in the background. We could see on a news channel the contents ofmy private correspondence scrolling across the screen. The netWork showed the “To” and “From” fields, thus making my family’s and friends’ private e-mail addresses visible CO the world. Recognizing one of the names that flashed in front of me, I was horrified to realize that millions of people could read my personal messages, including the thoughts of a friend had written of her heartbreak over her pending divorce. My mind raced CO other messages I knew were scored in one of my e-mail accounts: Briscol and I discussing her pregnancy. Todd aod I discussing Trig’s medical challenges. My farewell prayer and encouragement before Track’s deployment. Me telling Willow that no, she absolutely could
not
get a ride home with a high school boy. All kinds of sensitive discussions, cluding political ones, the kind of unguarded talk you have only •

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SARAH

PALIN

with the people who ate closest to you and don’t take what you say out of context. Obviously our discussions weren’t meant for public display. But because I had no home-based headquarters my e-mails
were
my campaign headquarters. As I watched message after message float across the screen, I thought,
What kind ofcreep would break into a person’s files, steal read them, then give them to the press to broadcast all over the world in
order to influence a presidential campaign? And what kind ofresponsible
press outfit would broadcast stolen private correspondence?

Standing beside Schmidr was Tony Ball, a patient soul wrapped in a tough, muscle-bound Secret Service agent body. Even as I was staring at the screen, he was already on the phone, working with the FBI. It didn’t take long for the feds to identify the source: a college student who was the son of a Democrat Tennessee state legislator. The excuses made for this invasion of privacy were disgusting and nonsensical. “Sarah Palin is a public figure,” the spin went. “She should expect this kind of thing, and if she’s worried about ir, whar is she trying to hide?” We had to cancel all our e-mail accounts. My friends’ and families’ personal and business accounts had to be changed too, as they’d all been compromised. And once again, the campaign confiscated the kids’ phones. The incident was, to me, the most disruptive and discouraging of the campaign. It created paralysis in my administration because it cut off an easily accessible form of communication between me and my Alaska staff, Worse, I could no longer contact my kids, even Track, who would shortly leave for Iraq. Also, thanks to the hacker’s disclosing all of our contact information, tbe kids began receiving vulgar e-mail threats and phone calls, which scared me for all of them. It was all sickening.

The incident put tremendous stress on the campaign. Schmidr and others acred as though they believed scattered reports that my hacked e-mail contained incriminating messages that would

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