Blind Allegiance to Sarah Palin (46 page)

It became increasingly obvious as the hours ticked by that Obama would win. Our prodigal governor would be coming home. Part of me felt she'd be relieved, another part expected she'd go into the blame-attack-victim mode of dealing with frustration. More likely, she'd vacillate between the extremes.

Once the final results were announced, I cradled my BlackBerry and thought about what message to send Sarah and Todd. I'm a simple guy, and I sought to be brief while offering positives. I wrote:
“You guys are awesome. Hard fought fight. Palins woke up a sleeping Republican electorate and ignited Mc's campaign.”

With my message being one of what must have been thousands, I didn't expect a response. Todd responded in seconds,
“Did Ted win.”

Todd was asking about Alaska's forty-year senator Ted Stevens, who was running against Anchorage mayor Mark Begich while embroiled
in scandal. Just the prior week, Stevens had been convicted of seven bribery-related felony charges. I reported back that, nevertheless, Stevens was in the lead by five thousand votes. Again, a reply in seconds:
“Roooogggeeerrrrr
,” Todd's equivalent of Sarah's
“Whoo-Hoo.”
(Eventually Begich was declared the winner by a margin of a little more than two thousand votes.)

Into the late election night, Neen and I sat quietly on our stuffed leather couch. Glued to the television, we watched McCain's gracious concession speech. Staged outdoors under a starry Arizona sky with a wall of palms waving in the night breeze, McCain and wife Cindy shared the stage with Sarah (dressed in blue—where was her signature red?) and Todd. She looked sad and frail. McCain thanked Sarah, calling her “the best campaigner I've ever seen.” The crowd erupted while she looked ready to weep. Once he finished, McCain gave Sarah that short-armed hug of his, just as I turned off the TV.

Next morning, Sarah wrote,
“Thank u frank! And pretty wild about ak races (national), howd local races go?”
That afternoon, another message from Sarah:
“Party at the airport tonight—we want to see and thank the amazing pro-America pro-Alaska folks who really do care!!! Kris has details. Can u put this together on short notice?”
With that directive, I was already back to work on Palin personal requests. My having something to do—even if organizing a thank-you gathering for a losing candidate—beat sitting around waiting and wondering. We went to work sending out email invitations and notified the press of the pending tarmac get-together.

A few hours after sending me her party wishes, Sarah granted her first postdefeat interview to CNN. The reporter, having edited an earlier interview, played a clip asking Sarah about her plans for 2012, since speculation was already rampant about a presidential run. Sarah at first ignored the question and spoke of Alaskan energy issues. Similar to election night, she appeared haggard and sad, her hair resembling spider webs in disarray. She attempted a brave smile, but this time it had none of that neon glow. With resignation in her voice, she said:

Suddenly, looking at the shock in her face, I realized she not only expected the miracle of victory but hadn't prepared herself emotionally for defeat. The reporter then asked about accusations from McCain insiders that she was a “diva,” and about “going rogue” and about the internal tension in the campaign.

An indignant Sarah responded by saying, “It is absolutely false that there's been any tension, certainly from my part or my family's part . . . there's absolutely no diva in me.” The tone was similar to her saying, “Nobody in my administration ever applied pressure to have Trooper Wooten fired.”

Returning to a live camera, the reporter addressed the in-studio anchor and said that Sarah's response did not agree with what she'd heard from campaign insiders, and there was much more to be revealed from the McCain camp. I nodded knowingly.

Sarah's plane was due at eight-thirty. We'd managed to gather nearly three hundred well-wishers to brave the ten-degree Arctic cold. Each time a plane approached, the crowd screamed, “Sa-
rah
! Sa-
rah
!” and hoisted signs reading You Go Girlfriend, We Love You Sarah, and We Got Our Gov Back!!! As it became increasing frigid and windy, reports trickled in that Sarah's plane was delayed. Finally, at least a half hour late, a JetBlue E-190 that had been repainted with the McCainPalin logo on the side landed and pulled to a stop about forty feet from where we had gathered behind a rope.

As passengers disembarked, the chants grew. After the press corps hobbled down the stairs onto the tarmac, Todd, the kids, and Sarah finally emerged out the plane's side door. She made her way carefully, teetering on a very tall pair of black high heels, bundled in a black
trench coat, appearing thinner than I'd ever seen her. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, her hair no longer wispy but once again pulled back in that signature clip. On the trip back, she'd applied makeup to highlight and complement her eyes and cheeks. Then, as if she'd been reborn, she flashed that smile and began speaking as if she'd never left, saying that this was not a wasted effort. Everyone in the country now knew the message of Alaska, from energy to seafood, and the nation was waving little Alaskan flags. If she harbored resentment in defeat, it did not show. Everyone marveled at how gracious she was.

At one point, while answering questions from the press, Sarah explained political reality this way: “Politics is rough-and-tumble, and people need to get thick skin, just like I've got.” I'll never forget that sentence. Sarah Palin may have many qualities, but thick skin has no place anywhere on that list. One thing I've learned is that Sarah had the capacity to deny her own frail emotions while projecting them onto others, specifically those she regarded as wishing her harm. Her hatred of those opposing her was really all about their hatred of her. Had I thought hard enough, I could have predicted I'd eventually join that list.

When she finally finished with the press and returned to her shivering Palin devotees, the crowd began to chant “Two thousand twelve! Two thousand twelve!” Sarah smiled warmly and did not take off in the SUV with Todd until she'd shaken every hand within reach. The energized campaigner extraordinaire was, at least for a moment, back.

For many in the McCain camp, once they underwent their own it's-not-my-fault postmortem, they blamed a distracted, unmanageable, and at times emotionally complicated Sarah Palin for the Republican defeat. Maybe Sarah wasn't what they expected, but whose fault was that? Sarah didn't change; she'd always been distracted, unmanageable, and emotionally complicated. What impact did the Sarkozy stunt have on the election results? Or Tina Fey's lambasting Sarah on
Saturday Night Live
? Did the Gibson and Couric interviews really make a major difference? Whatever the negatives, when the results
came in and McCain lost by 7 percent and more than eight million votes, Sarah walked away with a larger and stronger army of Palin Gremlins and Palin-bots. She returned to Alaska with a greater tag than Joan of Arc or Queen Esther. For millions, she now wore the mantle of
savior
.

For those of us left behind during the campaign, we conducted our own November 2008 postmortem. I expected we'd do what Kodiak Island villagers did when hit with volcanic eruptions and tsunamis: regroup, rebuild, move on. Sarah's loss in the 2002 lieutenant governor's race turned into a blessing that helped catapult her to the governorship and nearly the vice presidency of the United States. This setback, too, would be a part of God's plan.

In an old refrain, I convinced myself we'd learn from past mistakes and return to the job of governing the great state of Alaska. We still had plenty of time to get back on course and accomplish much in the remaining two years of Sarah's first term. After that? Maybe grab a Senate seat and go to Washington and accumulate some real national and international experience in preparation for another run for national office in 2012 or 2016.

Part of me felt disappointment, but an even bigger part felt relief that we'd go back to being a team. I'd had enough of insecurity these past months. Time to get over the worst of Troopergate and the fear of losing my governor to an administration run by a man who excited none of us, including Sarah and Todd.

I felt the next two years suddenly had a predictable course, proving once and for all that as a prognosticator, I stink.

PART FOUR

Death Spiral

29
 

Reentry

J
ust two years earlier the biggest problem in launching the political career of our Reagan in a dress was making certain the name Sarah Palin was front and center on every Alaskan's mind. Now, the former Wasilla High beauty queen with the nickname Sarah Barracuda had returned as one of the most recognizable names and faces in the world. She was Cinderella with a closet full of glass slippers and would soon have a bank account overflowing with untold millions. As huge as the state of Alaska might be, it suddenly felt too small for the celebrity of Sarah Palin.