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By Root 1011 0

there were no assigned seats. To normal people, this will not sound strange, but in the political world, with pecking orders and limited chairs at the table, it was, we were assured, unusual. And there was no assumption that John would get the best seat; it was first-come-first-served seating, and as John usually came in last, he usually got the worst seat. Tom Donilon, who had worked with Warren Christopher and who had a diplomat’s acumen as well as a diplomat’s caution, came to every meeting pressed and fresh; he had a particularly comfortable seat on the couch for his one day. He could not be there on Monday, and his seat was snagged the next day by David Ginsberg, who had worked for John in the Senate campaign and had, in the course of those months, become family to us. David came equipped with the latest laptop computer, a BlackBerry on one hip, a cell phone on the other, and he became, by virtue of his appliances, the scribe. Erskine Bowles from North Carolina, more recently Bill Clinton’s chief of staff, didn’t need a chair. He stood for the whole meeting—his back was bothering him—and from his position, leaning against a post, he said he believed in John and wanted to devote himself to making him president, which was of course heartening to hear.

The media consultants Bob Shrum and his partners at the time, Tad Devine and Mike Donilon, were there. They were the veterans. Bob and John had become close when Bob did the commercials for John’s Senate campaign, and I hope their warm personal relationship will survive the stories I will tell about him here. Bob, who came to no meetings pressed, spoke a great deal, as he had the most experience, and when he wasn’t speaking he was popping gum into his mouth so he wouldn’t smoke. Mike, who is Tom’s brother, sat, as he always did, on the edge of the chair, leaning into the conversation, and although his might have been the most reliable voice there, he just leaned in, didn’t talk much, but he did stop John afterward and said he wanted to be a part of this if it happened. I will skip ahead to say that Bob and Tad and Mike wound up working for John Kerry. The decision, known in the press as the Shrum Primary, was one that made us sad and relieved at the same time. These are experienced, brilliant men, but one of their skills—appearing as surrogates for the candidate on television—was a skill that could undo some of what John brought to the campaign as a new face, as an outsider. They were the consummate insiders, and therefore their skills could not be exercised if they worked for John, which would mean that neither John nor they would get the full benefit of the relationship. John and I had that difficult conversation with Bob before the decision was made. But before that decision—and after it, I believe—Bob was a friend and a champion, albeit a quieted champion during the primaries.

Harrison Hickman, John’s brilliant, funny, committed, and—he wants to rid himself of this adjective—sometimes prickly pollster was there. He and John are the same age, although Harrison has the distinguished gray hair that the press and I always complain John doesn’t have. Miles Lackey, John’s legislative director at the time and a former White House staffer himself, and Jeff Lane, John’s chief of staff, were there. Soon Jeff would move to a law practice and Miles would move into his job. Rebecca Walldorf came, energetic and more connected than her pretty, ageless face would suggest, as did Ed Turlington, who was a member of our church in North Carolina but, more importantly, was one of Bill Bradley’s most trusted advisors, so he brought even more experience into the room. Julianna Smoot, who had managed the fund-raising in the Senate campaign, and Tom Girardi from California, who would be important in fund-raising if John ran, came, Tom with his distractingly beautiful wife, Erika—who brought flowers.

The room was full, and full of purpose. The one difference in this meeting over the less formal ones that preceded it is that there was a firm agenda. Now, political consultants and pollsters