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By Root 1036 0

her was, predictably, libraries. We had oversize bookshelf displays for photographs, and we had lots of table decorations, including piles of books that would later be donated to needy libraries for children. I was working with Liz Jeffords, the terrific wife of the Vermont senator, on a portion of the planning, but everyone on the committee, regardless of their assignment, was asked to come for a “workday” to set the room up the day before the luncheon. I had done this dozens of times—not First Lady luncheons, of course, but PTA book exchanges and middle-school silent auctions. Since everyone had been asked to come, it must be a lot of work, I figured, so I came dressed for work—in overalls. Apparently that is not what was meant by “workdays” for, except for Fran DeWine from Ohio, who was at least wearing slacks, every other spouse was wearing a suit, a very nice suit. There was even one suit with sequined lapels. And there were heels and stockings. And then there was me, in overalls and sneakers. Even the Senate building staff—who were, it turned out, the real workers doing the setup—were dressed better than I. At least I was a hit with the Capitol Police at the entrance nearest John’s office; I don’t believe they had seen a spouse in overalls before.

CHAPTER 10

AMERICA, THE PRIMARIES

The Windup

THE EVENING OF December 29, 2002, when John called the people closest to him and told them that he was going to run for the Democratic nomination for president in 2004, was, in one sense, the end of a process that had been going on for more than a year. Of course, in another sense, it was the beginning of an even more excruciating process, and in the ensuing whirlwind, it was impossible to sort out just the moment when he had first stepped onto this path. I remember talking in 2000 to a reporter for the Washington Post, Rich Leiby, who asked a question John had been asked a dozen times before: when did John decide to run for the Senate? The answer I gave applies here. “Are you married?” I asked. Yes, he was. “Then you courted your wife and loved her and maybe marriage was on your mind and maybe it was not, and then one day you realized that perhaps that day or the day before or the day before that you had fixed in your mind that you wanted her to be your bride. It didn’t happen in an instant; it was a collection that finally, invisibly, reached the tipping point.”

It is easier to date John’s definite decision to run, although even that is in important parts a collection of little pieces from which the decision finally came when, at the end of 2002, he put the puzzle pieces together. After the 2000 election a number of people who had worked in the Gore campaign and had supported John as the vice presidential choice were looking ahead to 2004. It was what they did. And this time they came to John. Now, frankly, these same people might have gone to others as well, urging them to run, but I do not know that. I only know they came to John, and came, and came. They said the right things: he was authentic, he came from a working-class background, he spoke plainly and passionately. He brushed off the first compliments and the first few suggestions, but he finally agreed to talk about the notion of running. The people promoting the idea—some of them members of his staff—set up a two-day meeting to talk about the possibility and what to do if John said yes. I mention members of his own staff because there is a joke in Washington that every senator gets up in the morning, looks in the mirror, and sees a potential president. It may be true, but it is also true that every staff member looks at their boss and sees a potential president…and, I suspect, imagines their own West Wing office. We are always positive that our staff is different, that our staff is suggesting he run because of their belief in him and loyalty to him, but the truth is probably somewhere in between.

For two days, a Sunday and Monday, we met in a large room on the first floor of our Washington house. As with every meeting John ever had at the house or elsewhere,