Too Big to Fail [282]
Wall Street executives weren’t the only ones who were confused invitees; the White House, too, was left out of the loop about the details of Paulson’s summons. “Is it one meeting or nine meetings?” Joel Kaplan, White House deputy chief of staff for policy, asked Jim Wilkinson by e-mail.
The gathering “will be a large meeting but also expecting smaller breakout meetings to make the case,” Wilkinson replied minutes later from his BlackBerry.
It fell on West to see to it that all went smoothly. This was perhaps the most important meeting in history that had ever been held at the Treasury Building, and she was the coordinator. She shot an e-mail message down to Stafford Via, a senior adviser at Treasury: “We do need to figure out logistics. I think we need someone down outside the gate and just inside the door to direct them up to the 3rd Floor. Also, we can use the small conference rooms and diplomatic reception room for hold rooms if needed.”
She called the Secret Service to see if they would close down Hamilton Place, for with all the photographers expected to show up, the event could well turn into a zoo. She got a firm no.
At 9:19 a.m., she sent an e-mail to the assistants of all nine Wall Street CEOs, with instructions about what they should do after being dropped off on Fifteenth Street and Hamilton Place: “They should proceed on foot down Hamilton Place to the Gate to enter the building. They will need to show photo id (a driver’s license would be fine).” As she raced through what she needed to get done, West realized that she was missing one last thing. She had gotten the Social Security numbers and dates of birth of everyone but Ken Lewis, which she needed to get him cleared through Secret Service. She tried his office three times, but when no one picked up she decided to call his home. “I just spoke with Mr. Lewis’s wife and have his DOB and SSN,” she wrote moments later to Lewis’s assistant.
To almost no one’s surprise but everyone’s disappointment, news of the secret meeting started to leak. “I guess my invitation got lost in the mail,” Cam Fine, president of the Independent Community Bankers of America, wrote to Jeb Mason, the handsome Texan who was the Treasury Department’s liaison to the business community. “We do represent 5,000 banks with over one trillion in assets,” he wrote, adding a smiley emoticon. “A little financial humor Jeb—laugh a little.”
Despite West’s best efforts, confusion still reigned. “Do you have a list of market participants attending the 3pm meeting?” Calvin Mitchell, head of communications for Geithner, wrote Wilkinson. “Are you guys confirming yet who’s invited?”
Even an hour before the meeting the CEOs were still trying to sniff out what was really up. “Any ideas what the topics will be for the 3pm meeting with the CEOs?” Steven Berry, Merrill’s government relations person, e-mailed Wilkinson. “Thain was asking. Also room number? I will see Thain in about 15 min.”
A little after 2:00 p.m., Ben Bernanke, Tim Geithner, and Sheila Bair assembled in Paulson’s office, their last chance to get on the same page before the big meeting. Paulson, his sleeves rolled up, took up in his usual chair in the corner, slumping just enough to suggest that he was pining for an ottoman: Geithner took the seat next to him; Bair settled on the blue velvet sofa; and Bernanke found a chair across from him. They were about to do what Paulson had been describing as “the unthinkable,” and their tension in the face of it was evident. Paulson himself looked visibly pained.
“Okay,” he said, “has everyone seen the talking points?” Paulson waved the printed page with its half-dozen bulleted items before them all, and continued, “Let’s run through this.”
First up, he explained, he would introduce everyone. Then, he said, he’d highlight the three pieces of the program: commercial paper;