Lies & the Lying Liars Who Tell Them_ A Fair & Balanced Look at the Right - Al Franken [73]
But mainly it was Coleman’s proxies who played it dirty. The National Republican Senatorial Committee (NRSC) ran an ad called “Pork” that hit the hypocrisy jackpot. It savaged Wellstone for voting “to spend thousands of dollars to control seaweed in Maui,” claiming that he prioritized seaweed control over national defense. In fact, Wellstone did vote for S.1216, as did Strom Thurmond, Trent Lott, and eighty-four other senators. That bill did appropriate the seaweed control spending—but it also provided $21 billion for veterans’ health care, $27 billion for veterans’ compensation and pensions, and block grants to assist New York City’s recovery from 9/11. The NRSC was chaired that year by Bill Frist, who later replaced Lott as Senate majority leader. Before the memorial, Frist spoke with the Wellstones’ older son, David, who later recounted the conversation to me.
“I’m sorry about your parents and your sister,” Frist told David.
“Did you authorize the seaweed ad against my dad?” David asked.
“Yes,” said Frist.
“And did you vote for the seaweed bill?”
There was a pause. They both knew that the answer was yes. Finally, Frist said, “It wasn’t personal.”
“My dad took it personal,” David said. “Thanks for coming to my family’s memorial.”
Four days earlier, the Wellstone candidacy had ended with the plane crash. The Coleman campaign changed its tone. Somewhat. According to a Minneapolis Star Tribune account of the thirteen days between the plane crash and the election, Vin Weber, a former GOP congressman and key Coleman strategist, started politicking mere moments after Wellstone’s plane went down. Working his cell phone on his way to a meeting with Norm Coleman and the rest of the campaign brain trust, Vin tracked down his friends who had worked in John Ashcroft’s 2000 campaign. He picked their brains about what to do when your opponent dies in a plane crash. What worked? What didn’t? They told him that Ashcroft’s decision to shut down his campaign and stay out of sight after the tragic death of his opponent, Mel Carnahan, had cost him the election.
A key decision was reached at the meeting. Coleman would not repeat Ashcroft’s mistake. Instead of disappearing, Coleman’s post-crash strategy would be, according to the Star Tribune, to “gravely and respectfully—but publicly—participate in the state’s grieving process.” The meeting ended at 2:30 P.M., about four hours after airport officials lost contact with Wellstone’s plane.
Sure enough, at 4:15 P.M., Coleman told a throng of reporters, “I think our focus now is solely on bending our knees and being very reflective and very prayerful. . . . I am giving no thought to anything other than the memory of Paul and Sheila Wellstone and the others on that plane.”
Coleman continued his new tactic by announcing that he was suspending his campaign until after Wellstone’s funeral, and also by agreeing to appear that Sunday via satellite on ABC’s This Week. After the show, he held what he called a “non-press-conference press conference.” He was taking every possible opportunity to show voters that he was not exploiting Wellstone’s death for political gain.
The Wellstone campaign was reeling. But the Democrats needed someone on the ballot. Former Vice President Walter Mondale approved a leak to the press that he was “highly likely” to run, but would not campaign until after a public memorial was held.
On Monday, Coleman went on national TV again, conversing with Judy Woodruff on CNN’s Inside Politics. She asked him whether his campaign was gearing up. His response was right on message: “If I ruled the world, Judy, we’d all still be on our knees and saying some prayers.”
The next guest was Harry Reid of Nevada, the number two Democrat in the Senate, who was unimpressed by Coleman’s pieties. “Judy, Mr. Coleman is campaigning, and that’s why he’s on your program.” He pointed out that Republicans had already starting