Speaking Truth to Power - Anita Hill [81]
I did not know any of the people on the list, but Jordan assured me that she would see to it that they were all contacted about their availability. Unlike me, Jordan, along with other women who were concerned that the Senate conduct the hearing fairly, had developed a plan. That telephone conversation—I refer to it as the telephone call that saved my life—gave me the energy to move into action. I took down the names and told her I would get back to her with any thoughts I had. I quickly got dressed and went to the law school to ask my colleagues if they knew any of the lawyers on the list.
Chaos doesn’t begin to describe the law school in the days immediately prior to the hearing. Reporters filled every open space; the telephones in the main office rang so often that the staff put them on mute; and emotions ran high, as everyone became consumed in the upheaval. My colleagues on the faculty pitched in to do what they could, taking telephone calls, fielding press inquiries, following up on leads, and trying to give direction to students whose concerns were quickly mounting. Some of the telephone calls and letters were from cranks; others, from people who wanted to offer information about Thomas’ handling of sexual harassment claims within the EEOC, took too long to verify. We only had twenty-four hours before I would have to leave for Washington.
Two letters that proved invaluable emerged from the morass of information and paper. The first was from John Carr, a friend whom I met when I worked for Clarence Thomas. He’d been getting his law and business degree at the time and I kept in touch with him. He wrote to say that he recalled my telling him about the incidents with Thomas and was available to support my claim if he could. By midmorning Emma Jordan had pulled together several lawyers to help me, but we had no place to assemble. An overnight letter from Don Green, who had been a partner at the now defunct Wald, Harkrader firm and was now with Pepper, Hamilton and Scheetz, offered the firm’s conference room as a meeting place for the legal team.
Ray arrived on schedule, and my nephew Eric picked him up at the airport. Poor Eric, then nineteen years old, seemed the one most baffled by the situation. He had always been very sensitive, and we had always been close, but I did not have time now to reassure him. The situation had us all baffled. Finally, it occurred to me that it might help if he could come along to Washington. He had to postpone a test to do so, but he got permission from his professor. Shirley Wiegand also asked if I wanted her to come along. At first I told her that I didn’t think it would be necessary, but then I caught on to what she must have already realized: if things were as chaotic in Washington as they had been in Norman, I would absolutely need her help. She became the fourth in the party to travel to the hearing from Norman.
Meanwhile I contacted my sister JoAnn in Tulsa and my sister Joyce in California. JoAnn arranged for herself and my parents to travel to the hearing. My mother would turn eighty in a few days; my father in a few months. It would all have been easier to bear if I had had time to explain to them what had happened. But there was no time. Moreover, I didn’t know much more than they did. No one had time for explanations; there was only time to organize ourselves. My brother Albert helped get my father to the barber and his suit to the cleaners. My brother Alfred picked up the dry-cleaned clothes and delivered them to my sister. Such was the level of our preparation for the hearing.
My sister Elreatha, also in Tulsa, decided to come as well. In California, Doris, Carlene, Joyce, and her daughter, Anita LaShelle, made plans for the trip. They would all arrive on Thursday evening. All the travel arrangements