Ben had been urging me to take a few days off, worried I would burn out. I had rebuffed him repeatedly. We had a lot of work to finish before the holidays, when we would all have a week off. And he was wrong, or at least I thought he was. The Ukrainian affair caused some initial embarrassment and concern on the Hill, but Republicans would come to see the whole thing as partisan gamesmanship.
In the final days before the vote, a Republican representative was still undecided. I had heard that he was attending a Kevin McCarthy fundraiser at a restaurant, Mission Navy Yard, right across from my apartment. I left the office early to track him down. I spotted him immediately, talking with three other members near the bar. I ordered four shots of tequila and carried them over to the group. After a second drink, I began talking with the other members about our mutual disdain for the Democrats’ impeachment case. My target member stood quietly to the side. “Don’t you agree?” I asked, trying to draw him out. He didn’t respond. But he texted me the next morning. “Yes, I agree. Move me to no.”
I smiled and screenshotted his text and sent it to Ben: “We’re gold.” December 18, 2019, was impeachment vote day. I got into another SUV with Ben and we were taken to Capitol Hill, where we spent the whole day standing post between the House floor, the cloakroom, and Kevin McCarthy’s office. The president had scheduled a rally in Michigan that night at the same time the House was scheduled to vote. We were in the cloakroom fielding calls from staff traveling with the president, updating them on the count as the vote was underway. We weren’t certain how many House Democrats would join Republicans to vote against the articles of impeachment, but we were confident we had met the president’s demand that no Republican member would vote to impeach. Still, it was satisfying when the last votes were recorded with zero Republican defections, and three Democrats voting no.
I felt in control, with a purpose, happy to have achieved the goal the president tasked us with. That goal coincided with my belief that impeachment wasn’t the appropriate response to his inappropriate Zelensky call. Exhausted, I hadn’t had much time to think about what I had been asked to do. I hadn’t thought how it might be a loyalty test of any kind, or how my hourly barrage of messages contributed to anything beyond achieving the mission, or anything more about the whistleblower. I had landed my dream job and was a loyal foot soldier.
As members filed off the floor, exchanging congratulations, Mark Meadows and Rep. Matt Gaetz, of Florida, asked me to walk with them to a Fox News interview. On the way, Mark guided us to a quiet corner in Statuary Hall. “I wanted you to hear this from me,” Mark said. His expression was more serious than usual; there was no trace of his signature jovial smile.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to announce that I’ll be retiring at the end of this term.” I shifted my glance between Mark and Matt, whose hands were shoved deep in his pockets. “Is everything okay?” I asked Mark. He assured me that it was. “We work really well together, don’t we?” Mark continued. I masked my surprise by resorting to practiced glad-handing. “We do, sir.” He nodded. “That’s not going to stop anytime soon. Let me know how things are at the White House tomorrow, what people are saying about my announcement,” he said, then handed me his red impeachment vote card. “I want you to have this. No one worked harder for it than you.” I studied the card and turned it over in my hand. “No one except for you,” I said with a wink.
As the last members trickled out of the Capitol, I walked to Capitol Lounge, a local bar, with several of Kevin’s and Steve’s staffers. Matt Gaetz had asked what my plans were, and I had sarcastically invited him to join us, thinking he would rather be caught dead than be spotted with leadership aides. When Matt walked into the bar a while later, I could have sworn I was hallucinating. A few of my friends jabbed me with their elbows as he waltzed in our direction, and I wished I had more than one drink to deal with the incoming charade.
“How are you taking the big news?” Matt said by way of greeting. I yanked him away from my friends. “Shut up, Matt. Mark doesn’t want anyone to know yet. You heard him.” I scowled. A tight smile crept across his face as he nodded. “Mark has big things in store for you. He’s not going anywhere, don’t worry,” he said. “Just let it all play out. He truly adores you.”
~~~
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It was the time when Robert Byrd was Senator of West Virginia. Most of what I knew about politics was what the Senator was doing for the University. He continued in office until 2010 and was to be the longest serving Senator, having begun in 1952. I think it was natural, hearing so much about Byrd, that I registered as a democrat, although, even then, I was not committed to voting or actively participating in how the government was run... What I did know was all that I was personally involved with as it related to government regulations, mandates, or reporting. I remember not even thinking about whether or not the government needed the information, I read enough to understand the "why" and then routinely began to learn more and more how to respond to all requirements... Things like "Affirmative Action" was certainly understandable as needed and quickly became the standard operating procedure for hiring... et.al.
Cassidy Hutchinson, however, was totally in awe of those places she visited as a young girl. And, as she learned more, she realized that she wanted to be part of the world that was meant to serve the people of America. She started as an intern as most young people do who have this goal. One thing we, who watched her testify for the January 6th committee, was to recognize her poise, her intelligence, her memory. But, only after reading the book do we see how this young woman, who is still in her 20s, was able to be in the position she was in on that memorable day.
Given our similar backgrounds, mine much longer than hers, even now, what I saw was a naive girl, who was an extrovert, enthralled with where she was working, and, to her later detriment, totally loyal to her political party and its representatives. I found it alarming, frankly, because I saw with that loyalty also came trust. And, as we now know, it was and perhaps never will be, a good idea to totally trust politicians...
As she looked around during the early planning and then the actual day of January 6th, she began to SEE what the true reality was. What was happening was not a game. Not a Winner Take All game of chance. And, she started to be afraid. Not necessarily about not knowing where her future livelihood would come from, which soon became a problem since she had no resources--even sufficient to pay for an outfit that she could wear while on television, giving her testimony to the Congressional Committee. But, more, that she didn't know from whom exactly she could seek help...
She could not help but think that anybody else now working would be loyal to the President. Finally, she called a friend who she had pulled away from because she was not willing to support anything that was happening. She promised that friend that she would not back down in doing what she knew she had to do...
Trying to do what she felt must be done, she immediately tried to plan for doing exactly that... But how? Finally, she thought of Watergate and found a book which was to become her personal guide.
Soon Cassidy was meeting Liz Cheney who was co-chair of the January 6th committee. And, she was also somebody who the republican party had turned against for not being willing to lie for Trump. It was Liz Cheney, who then guided Cassidy and pulled the strings to get protection for Cassidy as they moved forward.
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