In My Time - Dick Cheney [152]
When we got back upstairs about an hour later, we told Mary, Heather, Phil, and Liz that they really needed to go down to the party. They said they weren’t in a party mood. The networks had already called Florida for Gore, a surprising and irresponsible decision, given that the polling places in the heavily Republican western panhandle of the state hadn’t even closed yet. But we exercised our parental prerogative and strongly encouraged the kids to go downstairs. There was nothing they could do except sit in the suite, and all the friends in the ballroom would be so happy to see them. They took our advice, headed downstairs, and were surrounded by hundreds of cheering friends and family a short while later, when the large-screen TVs in the ballroom flashed the news that the networks had reversed the Florida call and returned the Sunshine State to the toss-up column.
With us in our suite that night were our dear friends Al and Ann Simpson, Nick and Kitty Brady, Don and Joyce Rumsfeld, Jim and Susan Baker, Bush-Cheney campaign chairman Don Evans, and Andy and Kathleene Card. A photo from the evening shows Jim Baker sitting next to me with Al Simpson and the Rumsfelds looking over our shoulders. We’re all studying the tally that I was keeping on a yellow legal pad. I had clipped an electoral map out of the newspaper that morning and was using it to keep track of which states we needed to win to make it to 270.
It looked to me as if it was indeed going to be a very long night, so about 12:45 a.m. I decided to go into the bedroom to take a nap. I had been asleep only a few minutes when Liz woke me up. “Dad,” she said, “you just got elected vice president. The president-elect wants to talk to you.” That got my attention.
Liz and Mary on election night 2000 reacting to the news that the networks had called the election for George W. Bush and me. It was a premature – but nonetheless heartfelt–celebration. (Photo by David Kennerly)
The networks had now called Florida for George Bush, and at 1:30 a.m. Austin time, Al Gore had called Bush to concede. Liz handed me the phone, and Governor Bush got on the line. He told me about Gore’s call and suggested that I bring the family over to the Governor’s Mansion so we could ride together to the victory celebration at the state capitol, where a large crowd had been standing outside for hours.
As we prepared to leave to join the Bushes, Don Evans was on his cell phone talking to Gore’s campaign manager, Bill Daley. “Gore’s in talking to his family,” he reported. “They are taking it hard, and he’s asked us to give him a little while with them before he makes his concession speech.” Of course we understood, and we headed over to the Governor’s Mansion thinking we would watch Gore’s concession speech there.
We left the hotel through the kitchen as we nearly always did when the Secret Service was with us. As we walked through, surrounded by our family, Lynne looked at me and said, “What’s wrong? You don’t seem as happy as you should be.” She read me well. I couldn’t say why, exactly, but I thought we were celebrating too soon. “This just doesn’t feel right,” I told her.
I put those thoughts aside as we walked into the family celebration that was already under way at the Governor’s Mansion. President George H. W. Bush and Barbara were there along with Florida Governor Jeb Bush. Al and Ann Simpson had come with us from the hotel. We all crowded around a tiny, antiquated television in the sitting room on the first floor of the ornate old mansion and watched footage of empty stages in Austin and Nashville, where Gore’s campaign headquarters was located. The networks were all marking time until Gore made his concession official so that Bush could then