Going Rogue: An American Life (99 page)

Going Rogue

day, he had realized that since 1’d been a bit more visible than some vice presidential candidates, there was a good possibility I might be asked to speak on election night. John Edwards had spoken in 2004, and one of Scully’s responsibilities as a speechwriter was to be proactive, to make thar the candidate was never caught without something to say.

In Phoenix, on election day, he met separarely with both Rick Davis and Mark Salter and told them he’d been working on the speeches;

“I have these ready, just in case:’ Scully told Davis.

“Okay, so she would speak before he does? .. .” Davis said.

“We could do it that way. She could introduce him.”

“Okay, that could

Davis said.

Nothing was decided,

Later, Scully told Mark Salter about the speeches. Salter, exhausted from flying all night, said something like, “Great, that sounds great.”

Again, nothing was decided.

But of course, I didn’t know any of that. Since headquarters had micromanaged everything I did and said for weeks, I had no idea that they hadn’t been the origin of the speech. So when I got the news I wasn’t speaking, it felt to me like some kind of punishment, a slap in the face. In truth, it was all a tangle of miscommunication and misunderstandings between worn-out people ttying to cope with a shattering defeat.

But in the heat of the moment, the conversation with Schmidt ended abruptly. I was ushered into a room where John was waiting; he sat in an upholstered chair, and other guys sat on the edge of the bed. Schmidt came in too, and slouched in a chair like a pile of laundry. I felt bad him-all his energy and efforts-he

said he was .leaving in the morning for some island.

• 335

•

SARAH

PALIN

John had a conciliatoty look on his face. “Hey, Sarah;’ he said.

“We fought a good fight and I’m going to just get out there and thank America.” John smiled.

“Well, you worked hard, and I want to get our there and thank
you,”
I said.

“No, these guys have it covered,” he said, nodding in Schmidt’s direcrion. “They’ve gar it handled.”

I knew that was that. I thanked John again for everything and walked out of the room. I was still absorbing the no-speech decision when campaign handlers starting rounding us up. “Let’s go! Time to go to the stage! John’s ready to go!”
Wait a minute,
I thought. Where’s my family? We’re hardly dressed. Aunts and uncles and cousins had gathered from Washington to Texas for the final night, and no one knew where they were supposed to be or even when the speech was. The B Team was scattered all over, too.

and I shook our heads-the

“experts” still didn’t get it. What mattered to us was showing respect for the everyday, hardworking folks who had put their lives on hold and dedicated everything they had, everything, to fight

what’s right. It had been the most spectacular ride-a roller coaster, yes, but we’d do ir all over again in a heartbearand we’d learned some lessons along the way. I felt this ending in Arizona deprived a lot of people of some joy that could still be salvaged from the night.

“Wait a minute;’ I told the handlers. “My family … let me get them organized.”

“No! No time! We have to go
now!”

This isn’t the way it’s supposed to end,
I thought. I walked toward the stage with just Todd and some of the kids, with a rolled-up in my hands that I wasn’t going to give. I glanced around the area for any more of the five generations of our American family to share in this. Not many were around.

• 33 6

•

Going Rogue

It was a watm, statry Arizona night. The expansive stage had been set up with a spectacularly huge American flag behind us.

“Excuse

Governor,” one of the McCain handlers said. ‘Just want to let you know, last-minute changes, Todd and the kids won’t be allowed on the stage.”

“Dh,” I said. Now they weren’t just in the back of the bus, they were in the luggage compartment. Todd was again relegated to the belly of the plane. I chuckled at the imagery because he’d been there before,
exactly
twenty years earlier, and we’d loved our simple life then.

Piper wasn’t thrilled when I had to shoo her and her cousins away. Todd came up onstage anyway. And we stood with the senator and his wife. John gave one of the most gracious concession speeches a political candidate has ever made.

He was his patriotic and inspiring sel£ He talked abOut how far America had come. He thanked Cindy and the rest of his family and urged his supporters to unite behind the new president, then finished strong: “Tonight-tonight, more than any night-I hold in my heart nothing but love for this COUntry and for all its citizens … I wish Godspeed to the man who was my former opponent and will be my president. And I call on all Americans, as I have often in this campaign, to nor despair of our present difficulties … Americans never quit. We never surrender. We never hide from history, we make history.”

The crowd tesponded with sincere applause, and I embraced John with affection and gratitude.

Back at the hotel, Jason, Andy Davis, and other staffers went to a couple of postelection parties in different suites and hotel bars. I guess it was the traditional electiOn night letdown and data dump

•

•

SARAH

PALIN

of people who had been going for weeks at lighr speed finally getring a chance to unwind. In addition to seeking campaign staffers and booze, reporrers atrend these parties as a matter of ritual, looking for colorful quotes and inside stories. But at gatherings tonight, Jason told me later, things were different: reporters already had their inside stories.

“It’s going to get really, really bad tomorrow,” several reporters told Jason at different times, in different ways. “You know rhat, right?”

“No, I don’t know that. What’s the deal?” Jason said.

”A few McCain senior staffers have been going around the campaign plane feeding stories to reporters on background. They knew McCain was going to lose. The staffers were relling us all we could run with the stories right after the election.”

“What kind of stories?” Jason said.

“Negative stories, mostly about the governor and her family.” The whole family had been set to fly back to Alaska the next day, but we pushed the flight back a few hours so that we could pack up and take advantage of a few hours of morning sunshine. As the kids reminded us, how often did they get a chance to sit by an ourdoor pool in early November? Todd, the grandparents, the kids and cousins set up camp on lounge chairs. Trig napped on my chest while I called my Anchorage and Juneau offices. Kris and Meg were also there, cell phones humming. My chief of staff, Mike Nizich, and his wife joined us poolside. Jason and Jeannie joined us, too. When Trig finally stirred, I went over and sat on the edge of the pool with my baby boy, listening to his giggles as I dipped his tiny toes in the pool. It was peaceful. Then I looked up and saw Mark and Nicolle walking toward Todd.

•

,J,J8

•