Kitty stuck her head in the door. “There’s a report on CNN that George Kiel will announce on Monday,” she said.
“That’s good news,” Will replied. “We’ll beat him by forty-eight hours.”
“Not really, not unless we start spreading the word now. This means people are already hearing Kiel’s name, and not yours. I’ve had a bunch of calls from press asking what you’re going to do, and I’ve been coy. I think it’s time to telegraph your entry into the race.”
“Okay, do it; tell them I’ll have an announcement to make tomorrow, and you’ll get back to them on time and place. Start angling for the Sunday-morning TV shows, too.”
Moss stood up. “I’ve got to run, Will. I’m going to put together a polling proposal for the next month and send it to Tim. Let me know what you want to do.”
Will stood up and shook his hand. “Thanks, Moss; I’ll be in touch.”
Late in the afternoon Tom Black came to Will’s office, and the two of them compared notes on the announcement speech.
“Yours is too long,” Will said. “I’d like to make it easy for the networks to run the whole thing on the news.”
“Not going to happen,” Tom replied. “If you give them a minute, they’ll run seven seconds; if you give them five minutes, they might run half a minute. Our job is to break the announcement into segments, any one of which they can pick up at different times, and to have one paragraph loaded with the gist.” He tapped Will’s sheet of paper. “I like this: ‘It’s time to make a new center that we can all gravitate to.’ Make that New Center, in caps, and we can craft something that will be a theme for the whole campaign.”
“Start crafting,” Will said. “I’ve got to make some begging calls to scrape up some money. Moss wants us to run a national TV campaign to increase awareness that I’m alive and running.” He handed Tom the poll results.
“Not bad,” Tom said, “but national TV spots are not going to happen anytime soon. We’re going to have to put the money into specific states to win primaries, and let the media make you famous for it.”
“You’ve got a point, but we’re going to need the money, anyway, so I’d better get started.”
“You do that.”
Will started with a list of a hundred men and women who’d given substantial sums to the party in the past during his elections. Eighty-one of them were Georgians. At the top of the list was one Lurton Pitts, fried chicken king. Using a private line that he paid for himself, Will dialed the number. In a moment, he was put through.
“Will, how are you?” Pitts boomed.
“I’m real good, Lurton; how’s the chicken business?”
“Not bad.”
“That’s good, because I’m about to hit you up for some money.”
“I knew there must be a reason for that sinking feeling in my stomach. What’s going on? You’re not running this year.”
“Yes, I am.”
There was a brief silence. “Oh, Jesus,” Pitts said. “You’re going to go for it.”
“That’s right; I wanted you to be the first to know.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. I knew you’d do it eventually, but I guess with Joe Adams out, the time is now.”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself.”
“How much you want?”
“Just a thousand.”
“I can handle that.”
“Plus a thousand from everybody you know and all their friends and relatives and all their friends and relatives.”
“How about PACs?”
“Nope.” Will had never taken any money from a PAC.
“How about soft money?”
“Not until after the convention. I’ll have to take it as long as everybody else does.”
“Damn, Will, I think my pulse just went up about twenty points.”
“Mine’s been that way all day.”
“Where do I send it?”
Will found the number of his new post office box and gave it to Pitts.
“Will, you remember that first time, when I got those fellows together to talk to you about your Senate run?”
“I’ll never forget it.”
“I want to do that again.”
“You bet. Sam Meriwether’s going to be my campaign manager; he’ll be in touch.”
“Go get ’em, Will!” Pitts cried, then hung up.
That was why he’d called Pitts first; he needed to hear that kind of enthusiasm. He went on telephoning, and by dusk, he had raised a good seventy thousand dollars, and it would turn into a lot more when the people he’d called had had a chance to call their friends.
Tom Black handed Will a new sheet of paper. “Try this on.”
Will read it. “It’s good. Take it to Kitty and Tim, and see what they can do to help it.”
Will watched him go, then went back to his telephoning. It kept him from thinking about how nervous he was becoming as his announcement approached.
19
Will stood on the Capitol steps in the still, cold winter air, in bright sunshine, surrounded by a busload of Georgians and a horde of television cameras.
“Good morning,” he said. “During the past few days, we’ve seen American history take a sudden turn. The sudden and tragic illness of our president and the withdrawal of the vice president from the presidential race have cast the 2000 election in a whole new light, and a whole new slate of candidates is now stepping forward. I’m pleased to be among the first of them.
“I’m here to announce my candidacy for president of the United States.”
The little crowd went as wild as a little crowd could.
Will waited until the cheering began to subside, then continued. “And I’m here to tell you why I’m running.” He paused for a moment, then took a deep breath. This would be the sound bite that would be on every news program that evening. “I’m running because I see my country torn apart by partisan wrangling; I’m running because I see the political parties jockeying for petty advantage, instead of doing what we were sent to this building to do.” He gestured over his shoulder at the Capitol. “I’m running because I want to lead this country toward a New Center, a New Center where every voice can be heard — Democratic and Republican. A New Center where conciliation and consensus can overcome ideology of any stripe and take us on toward new heights in the new millennium to come. We are a diverse country, but one idea has always driven us: We are all in this together!” Will paused for more cheering, smiling broadly, knowing that it was at this point that the TV news shows would move on to something else.
“I run as a Democrat,” he said. “Make no mistake about that. I run on the ideals that have helped our party help this country to be great: individual liberty, without undue interference from government; good public education for all; a safety net for the elderly and the disadvantaged; sensible, cost-effective programs to help our weakest citizens become strong and self-sufficient; a strong and lean national defense; and above all, the guaranteed equality of all our people.” More cheering.
“But I will tell you this: We can only have what we can pay for. We have lived beyond our means, and we can no longer do that. As I speak, the federal budget is balanced, and the administration I lead will keep it that way.” More cheering.
“As I go out into this country I’m going to address all the issues that are vital to us; I’ll praise good ideas and condemn bad ones — and the people who put them forward. But I’ll do so in a constructive way that will build consensus. I invite every one of you to come along on this journey.
“I hold out my hand to every American — not just every Democrat, but every Republican and every independent in this land. I tell you that, together, we can do anything; that, from a New Center, we can take this country anywhere we want to go!” Will stepped back from the microphones, waving both hands and smiling. While the applause raged, he shook the hands of those around him, then stepped forward to the microphones again.