Going Rogue: An American Life (98 page)

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Rogue

day, especially since I’d hardly had rime to

anyone the time

ofday since August 29. I promised to make it up to.everyone, and someday I will.

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During the crush of the campaign, family and friends unforrudidn’t always come first, a fact that nagged at me the whole time. Now I was looking forward to being able, finally, to take a deep breath and enjoy the lasr part of this ride together, no matter how it turned out. And

be enjoying it in this beautiful,

warm desert city, instead of in subzero land, where even daylight was scarce this time of year.

The Biltmore Resort was more like a complex than a traditional hotel. That meant that the rooms for everyone were spread out among the different buildings, with candidates and staff and family

all over the place. In our room, Todd

the kids

and I were with Kris and Meg as the election returns rolled in from the East to the West and flashed across the screen. We prayed for a miracle. But finally the moment came when it was clear to all of us in the room that we were not going to win. It was very, very disappointing. Yes, it had been a great contest and a historic election. And I still believed we had the stronger, smarter agenda for the country. It was unfortunate that our message didn’t seem to take hold. As Vince Lombardi said, “Winning , isn’t everything, but wanting to is:’ Yes, we had wanted to

win. Very much, for America.

In any case, I knew Matthew and Lindsay had done the campaign proud. It was time to step aside, but at least I was going to have this last moment to acknowledge my debt to John and thank him for giving me and my family-and Alaska!-thisincredible experience. I wanted to tell Americans to keep on fighting for what is not to let anyone tell them to sit down and shut up. As I got ready for the concession speeches, I noticed a lot of BlackBerry traffic-even more than usual. It was then that Jason

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SARAH

PALIN

said, “This is unbelievable. It sounds like you’re not going to be giving the speech after all.” Other staffers’ mouths fell open. Someone poked their head into the room and said, “Governor, they want you over at Senator McCain’s suite.” I carried the speech to John’s suite, wondering why headquartets would have had us spend all this time drafting a speech if I wasn’t going to deliver it.

John’s suite was packed with campaign staff when we walked in. A senior staffer came over to me. “You know you won’t be giving a speech;’ he said.

“It’s a powerful message,” I told him. “Scully did a great job. It’s a shout-out to John McCain and reminds the country that he’s an American hero. This is all about unity and bringing the country together now.”

Then Schmidt waded in. “You’re not giving one because it’s never been done in the history of presidential politics;’ he said.

“The vice presidential candidate does not give a concession speech.”

I knew he was wtong about that. But I wasn’t going to atgue with him. So I just said, “Steve, a lot of things have never been done before.” John hadn’t earned his reputation for independent thinking by doing things the way they’d always been done, and neither had I.

“Don’t think of it as a concession speech;’ I said. “Think of it as a way of honoring the man we’ve been working fot all these months.”

”Absolutely not;’ Schmidt said. “I don’t even know why you wrote a speech. Nobody told you to.”

That set me back on my heels. I was surprised that he was surprised. I didn’t find out until after the campaign whete the idea of a concession speech had originated-it had come from the most natutal source: Matthew Scully. About a week out from election

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