When we broke around noon, I called Norm Mineta and semi-apologized for firing the FAA Administrator out from under him, and asked him to call over there and give whatever assistance he could to get the planes up and flying again. Then I called in Ari Fleischer and filled him in on the changes in personnel, and my schedule. He was going to have to start earning his pay! I would let him handle the press briefing.
I grabbed a quick lunch in the White House Mess, the West Wing cafeteria run by the Navy, and then got a call from Frank Stouffer saying that the first President Bush had flown in, along with his wife. From Andrews they would be taking Marine One to Camp David to see Laura and the girls, but they would land at the White House first, and the President would sit down with me for a bit while Barbara flew on. I told Frank to bring him in as soon as possible.
It was a little before 2:00 that I got the word that Marine One was about to land, so I cleaned my desk off and made myself presentable. I watched it land and then lift off again as soon as the former President was clear. He looked much the same as when I had met him a few times back during his Administration, but he was clearly older, at least in his mid-70s, and moved slower. Today, he had a very somber look on his face. Frank escorted Mr. Bush to my office, and I greeted him at the door. "Thank you for seeing me, Mr. President. Allow me to say that Marilyn and I and the rest of my family are all praying that George will be rescued shortly." I ushered him over to an armchair.
"That is very kind of you, Carl. Is that alright?", he asked.
"Of course, sir." I waited until he had sat down, and then I sat down in a chair opposite him. "I appreciate the time you are allowing me, sir. As soon as we are done, I will have Frank get you up to Camp David. I hope Frank has been helpful. I told him he belongs to you and Mrs. Bush as long as needed."
That earned me a small smile. "Good heavens, but he seems so young, but I suppose we all were that age once."
"Yes, sir, I think that is very true. He's good, though. He's been on my staff since the campaign, and I've found him very useful. Whatever you need, just let him know."
He nodded. "Once we get to Camp David, we'll be fine, I'm sure. Please, is there any more news?", he asked with a pleading tone.
It was heart-wrenching to tell this to a man I had so much respect for, and to know I was the cause of this heartbreak. I shook my head and said, "Rescue operations are still moving along, but the latest report, right after lunch, was no different than what you might have heard this morning. There are some people being pulled out of the rubble, and some who we know are trapped, but nobody from above the plane strikes. Still, it's early. We still have hope."
He seemed to deflate for a second, and then drew upon a hidden well of strength inside himself and sat up straighter. "Thank you, Mister President, for being so ... compassionate. There really isn't any hope, is there?"
"That was one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you, sir. Could I have a few minutes of your time before I answer that remark?", I asked.
He nodded. "Of course, Mr. President. How can I help?"
"It is related to my current status. As I am sure you understand, I am currently only the Acting President. When the authors of the 25th Amendment wrote the bill, they were contemplating the President being ill or otherwise indisposed. They certainly never thought that he might not be available. Now, while the Cabinet has confirmed me as the Acting President, I am facing considerable opposition from one particular individual, and I was hoping that while you were here you might be willing to speak to him."
He eyed me curiously. "Who?"
"Secretary of State Cheney.", I admitted. "I hate to admit that I can't control the situation as well as I would like to, but that is the truth. He refuses to accept the situation, is telling people I am not the 'real' President, and is fighting me at every turn. Worst of all, he is telling the people he works with not to cooperate with me. I am afraid that George led him to believe that I was going to be removed as Vice President, and that he would be named as the new Vice President. I am on the verge of firing him, but I simply do not need the headache it will cause me. You worked with him in your Administration, and I was hoping you could speak to him. Our nation needs to be unified now, not split apart like this."
President Bush grimaced at this and looked away slightly, but then turned back to face me and nodded. "I've talked to George and he indicated to me he was trying to get Dick into your office, but I counseled him that if he really wanted to do that, he would need to wait until the re-election. George does have his own mind on things, though." I could tell the admission left a sour taste in his mouth. It was my understanding that the Bush family couldn't quite figure out how George W. had ended up in the Presidency. His younger brother Jeb was considered the smart one in the family!
"I think that if you were to talk to Dick, perhaps you would be able to reason with him. He doesn't have to like me, but he cannot continue to publicly fight and belittle me in front of the Cabinet and other agency heads. The next time he does it I will have no choice but to remove him from office, regardless of the price I have to pay. Earlier today I asked the Director of the FBI and the Administrator of the FAA to resign, and they complied. When I asked the head of the CIA to resign, he refused, with Cheney's backing, and I fired him and had the Secret Service remove him from the building. I will not tolerate Dick Cheney's attitude, and I would dearly love for you to explain that to him in no uncertain terms."
"You fired Wolfowitz! Oh my God!"
I nodded. Paul Wolfowitz had held the position that President Bush had once held, Director of the CIA. "Yes, sir. He and Scooter Libby have been slanting the intelligence under the direction of Dick Cheney. They want to go to war with Iraq, so they are saying the Iraqis were involved in this." I wasn't sure how much of this he was aware of. By tradition, ex-Presidents can receive the President's Daily Brief also.
"And they weren't?", he asked.
"No, sir. It was done by a group called Al Qaeda, a bunch of renegade Saudis hiding out in Afghanistan. I do have to ask that you not divulge that."
He simply shook his head and sighed. "I'll speak to Dick. He and I go way back. Was there anything else?"
I slowly nodded. "Yes, sir. It relates to what we were discussing before. As you are probably aware, Senator Reid and Congressman Boehner traveled to New York last night, to get a personal take on the rescue efforts and to make a report to the rest of the Congressional leadership. When I met with them last night, I told them that if it was necessary for me to be sworn in, I wanted there to be no question on it. It was too soon to even contemplate it. We discussed another meeting Friday morning, with the leadership and the full Cabinet, and taking a vote at that time."
A look of pain came over the President's face as I discussed, even in an oblique manner, the probable death of his eldest son. "How does this relate to what you would like to ask, Carl?"
I took a deep breath. "Sir, I have the utmost respect for you, and would never wish to cause you any harm or pain. However, if the Cabinet decides to vote to have me sworn in as the President, there will always be a lingering doubt as to the legitimacy of my Presidency. If you were to be standing at my side and holding the Bible I would be sworn in on, those doubts would be eliminated. This is something I ask, not for myself, but for the nation. Still, if you refuse, I'll understand."
The President didn't say anything, but pain flashed across his features and tears welled up in his eyes. I kept my mouth shut. There was nothing I could add. After a minute he said, "Carl, I need to think about this. I should be getting up to see Laura and the girls."