Gabby_ A Story of Courage and Hope - Alison Hanson [99]
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
What Would Gabby Want?
In the early weeks after the shooting, Gabby couldn’t speak. People didn’t know what she was thinking. At times, it was hard to know if she was thinking at all. And so, several times a day, whenever a decision needed to be made, I’d ask myself the same questions: What would Gabby do? What would she want me to do?
I thought about what Gabby would want at every step in the medical process, and as I planned her long-term care. I thought about how she’d weigh in as I considered the ramifications of her condition on her career—and on mine. In my case, I was set to command the next space shuttle mission in just three months. Should I step down? What would Gabby want me to do?
I wondered what Gabby would want even on more minor issues. Before I agreed to let someone visit her—a friend, a colleague from either party, whomever—I’d ask myself: Would Gabby want to see this person? Would she want this person to see her in such a vulnerable position?
Others closest to Gabby also spent a lot of time wondering what Gabby would want.
After the shooting, Pia led Gabby’s congressional staff forward by constantly asking herself: Which of the many issues on Gabby’s plate would she want us to prioritize? How would she want responsibilities in the office divided now that she was unavailable? What would Gabby want to do about her apartment and car in Washington? And what exactly should her communications staffers be saying publicly? They were flooded with requests from journalists; one day alone there were nine hundred media inquiries.
To hold on to Gabby’s voice in her head, Pia found herself scrolling through old e-mails. She kept coming upon the buoyant all-staff messages Gabby routinely sent out, all of them signed “Gabrielle.” It was hard for Pia not to be emotional reading them. They reminded her of Gabby’s priorities and principles, her exuberance, and what she wanted from her staff.
The e-mails reiterated for Pia how much Gabby believed in the power of saying thanks.
After the health-care town-hall gatherings of 2009, Gabby sent an e-mail thanking everyone. She was especially grateful to Gabe Zimmerman, who organized the events. His hard work helped draw thousands of attendees. “I will never, ever forget the Tucson event!” Gabby wrote. “Never, ever. The crowd was tremendous but unfortunately extremely rude at times. However we got through it and will live to tell about it. Our staff deserves a medal. Gabe, you are awesome!”
Pia was reminded again and again of the ways in which Gabby encouraged optimism among her twenty-five staffers and interns, especially the younger ones. She began 2010 with a Happy New Year e-mail: “Dear Team: I think January 1 is my favorite day of the year. I love the idea that we can get a fresh start and push the reset button. The endless possibilities for the coming months are glorious. Whatever challenges we meet ahead, on our own or as part of our office, I feel confident that 2010 will be remembered for its positive outcomes. I say this because all of you are especially smart and hard-working, and because you are dedicated to the highest calling, one of service to your country.”
To Pia, these e-mails were quintessentially Gabby.
Gabby referred to her constituents as “my peeps.” Again and again, she told her staffers, “You rock!” She wrote to them about her travels to the Middle East to visit troops, about a hike she took in Arizona’s Sabino Canyon, where she saw “a desert tortoise, eight deer, and a big bushy-tailed skunk,” and about her official visit to the Hickman family egg farm in Buckeye, Arizona. “I had no idea what 3.2 million chickens would smell like. Now I know. Don’t ask.”
On plane trips between Washington and Tucson, Gabby wrote e-mails slugged “Sky Report,” and she tried to give them a light touch. An e-mail to staffers on February 27, 2010, ended: “My BlackBerry is about to die, so more next time from somewhere like 19D. Thanks again, Team, from your most