Death of American Virtue - Ken Gormley [549]
This book required hundreds of trips to Washington, D.C., for interviews. On these visits I had the best lodgings possible, staying with my brother, William T. Gormley, Jr., currently the reluctant dean of the Georgetown Public Policy Institute. I will always treasure those late-night car trips to visit Bilbo, his wife, Rosie Zagari, a professor of history at George Mason, and their daughter, Angela Rose, who made sure we had time to buy penny candy at the hardware store. My other siblings—B. J. Gormley, Nancy Pfenning, and Susie Hogan—and their families have been consistent supporters of their brother who started writing stories in the St. Anselm’s playground at age nine. As well, thanks to Greg and Cindy Peterson for providing a writer’s haven at Chautauqua and Jamestown; and my extended family from Kentucky, New York, and New Jersey.
Some people who provided valued support did not get to see the publication of this book, one of the few sad aspects of reaching such a milestone. My father and mother, Bill and Elena Gormley, both passed away shortly after I began interviews for the project (my dad died the morning I arrived in New York for my first interview with Monica Lewinsky; it was the most difficult interview I ever completed in my career). Both of my parents were tireless supporters of my writing—I did my best to make this one perfect for you, Mom and Dad. As well, my mother-in-law, Noreen Kozler, loved all of my literary adventures and was present for my first speech about the Clinton-Starr investigation at the Chautauqua Institution in 1999; sadly, she died several years later, far too young—you would have loved the next seven years’ worth of interview stories, Mom. My uncle, John Furia, Jr., was a noted writer and film producer in Hollywood, who conspired with his nephew on every writing project and was scheduled to receive galleys of the Clinton-Starr book when he passed away unexpectedly: his grace, integrity, and professionalism as a writer will always serve as my model. My aunt Laura Galdi was a perpetual optimist who took care of her nephew on my many treks to New York: I will miss those side trips to Blauvelt. My nephew, Nils Pfenning, passed away this past summer at age twenty-one after two kidney transplants; he was always interested in creative projects and would have loved to have attended the book-signing bashes in Squirrel Hill—Nils, you remain an inspiration for all of us. Finally, Chief Justice Ralph Cappy of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court was a friend and mentor for twenty years; he was so excited about this project that he threatened to stow away in my suitcase when I traveled to New York to interview Bill Clinton. If only I could give you your signed copy, Ralph.
My secretary, June Devinney, did a masterful job at editing and re-editing chapters, often thirty or forty times—June, I told you I would finish it, eventually! My agents at William Morris Agency in New York have been remarkable: Mel Berger is the ideal literary agent who inhales political writing, guides his authors with professionalism, and knows just where to place each book to maximize its success. He conceptualized a big project from the start and his grand vision was contagious. At Crown, my editor, Sean Desmond, has been the best in the business, the modern equivalent of Max Perkins. He has never sacrificed quality or historical accuracy for expedience. His calm and thoughtful approach to handling each issue that