“No, I didn’t, sir,” Friedman politely responded.
“The books were in the living room for years. Now there are too many to keep in one place. Hard to believe so much has been written about the worst job in the country.”
Friedman laughed politely. No doubt the news he was about to share would show up in Taylor’s biography one day.
The coffee arrived and Taylor closed the door.
“Well, what’s so important you need to come by in the middle of the night?” He motioned for Friedman to sit down. He didn’t.
“Mr. Vice President, the president has suffered a heart attack. Less than an hour ago.”
“Oh, my God!”
Taylor expected to hear important news, but he never anticipated this.
“What’s his status?”
“A coma, sir. You’ll have to speak to the White House doctors. And you’ll need to come with me.” Friedman had faithfully served Morgan Taylor through his term as president, and he didn’t hesitate adding his next comment: “You’re going home.”
Chapter 25
Henry Lamden lay in the ICU at Walter Reed Army Medical Center. He was incapable of making any decisions, let alone presidential ones. The country needed a president. The Constitution required it. By the time most of America woke up, they would have a new one.
The issue of presidential disability was first considered by John Dickinson of Delaware during the creation of the Constitution. As the Founding Fathers debated the structure and organization of the document that was to shape the new nation, they conceded that the leader, a president, might not be able to fully or adequately administer the duties because of a “disability.” Once raised, Dickinson simply put forth the question, “What is the extent of the term ‘disability’ and who is to be the judge of it?”
This was before the authors of the Constitution even came up with the idea of a vice president.
The issue was further addressed in Article II, Section 1 of the Constitution. The language provided that only the vice president succeeds the president. Beyond the vice president, the precise order of presidential succession has changed over the years. The current law of the land was codified in 1967 with the passage of the 25th Amendment. Once ratified, the amendment directly addressed how the president is succeeded, and the means for the vice president and the Cabinet to remove the president from office due to incapacitation.
No one spoke. Some of the men had taken the time to put on ties; most had not. Eve Goldman, the attorney general and the only woman in the president’s Cabinet, had her brown hair down and only a light blush. Everyone looked like they had been rousted out of bed, which is precisely what happened. Not one of the people at the table had been told the nature of the emergency meeting.
Morgan Taylor entered from the Oval Office. He carried a leather-bound book. The door closed behind him. Odd, thought Goldman. The president should follow…
Her observation was interrupted by Morgan Taylor clearing his throat as he took his old seat — the president’s seat — at the middle of the oak table.
“If you’ll pardon my abruptness,” Taylor looked at every one of the Cabinet members, “we have a difficult task. A responsibility. A duty.” There were audible gasps in the room. “President Lamden has suffered a heart attack. Very serious. Life-threatening. He currently cannot function as President of the United States.”
Taylor stopped, respectful of the fact that the Cabinet members needed time to process the news. Showing equal respect, the cabinet secretaries did not interrupt him. This was not surprising, since most of them had served under Morgan Taylor.
“Doctors are attending to Henry now.” Taylor’s use of the president’s first name felt completely appropriate in the moment. “I’ve talked to the senior cardiologist on duty. Henry has been unable to communicate since arriving at Walter Reed. As I’m sure you know, the White House has a specialized response team. The chief physician from Georgetown is already on site. Others are on the way from around the country.
“Henry is in ICU. We might want to send him our prayers now.”
Morgan Taylor closed his eyes for a half-minute. When he opened them, the ten men and one woman were all looking at him.
“Eve,” he said to the attorney general, “I have a copy of the Constitution for you.” He slid the bound volume across the table. “I would appreciate it if you would read the 25th Amendment aloud, and outline the process we are to follow.”
In all of Eve Goldman’s 54 years, this was by far the hardest thing she ever had to do. The former senator from Delaware and mother of three raised her reading glasses, which were attached to a beaded chain that hung around her neck. “Begging your pardon, sir, I think I should begin with Article II, Section 1.”
Morgan Taylor nodded. “Quite right, Madam Attorney General.”
She thumbed through the pages, finding what she needed.
“In case of the removal of the President from office, or of his death, or inability to discharge the powers and duties of the said office, the same shall devolve on the Vice President and the Congress may by law provide for the case of removal, death, resignation, or inability, both of the President and Vice President, declaring what officer shall then act as President, and such officer shall act accordingly, until the disability be removed, or a President shall be elected.”
Goldman removed her glasses and addressed the room. “The exact order of succession has changed over the years. Now, according to the terms of the 25th Amendment, the Speaker of the house will be next in line after the vice president. Has the Speaker been notified, Mr. Vice President?”
“Yes.” Taylor looked at his watch. “He should be arriving within a few minutes. He’ll be briefed then.”
“Then I’ll continue.” She turned to the 25th Amendment, near the end of the volume. “I’ll paraphrase first, then read verbatim. Section 3 stipulates that during a period when the president believes he will not be able to serve as president, however temporarily, he may declare himself unable to discharge the powers and duties of the office, at which point the vice president must assume the office as acting president.”
She addressed Morgan Taylor. “Mr. Vice President, President Lamden is unable to make this decision for himself?”
“Affirmative. He cannot.”
“On your word?” she asked sharply.
“On the diagnosis of his supervising physician.” Taylor didn’t mean his comment to sound curt. “I’m sorry. Before we do what we must do, you will hear from him on the phone. We will also get confirmation from FBI Chief Robert Mulligan at the hospital. You may discuss the prognosis with the lead physician.”
“Thank you. You understand we must have that confirmation.”
“Absolutely. I expect nothing less.”
“Then I’ll move on to Section 4 of the 25th Amendment. This permits the vice president, together with a majority of the members of the cabinet to…” She paused, choking on her own words. “Excuse me. This is quite difficult.” She reached for the water in front of her. “This permits the vice president, together with a majority of the president’s cabinet, to declare the president incapacitated and thus incapable of discharging the duties.”
“Is that is our purpose here?” asked Secretary of State Norman Poole.
“Exactly,” Morgan Taylor answered. “You’ll need to take a vote.”