tordo23
03-29-2010, 08:22 AM
October 3 was a beautiful autumn morning in Arkansas, crisp and clear. I started the day thatd,theardly, probably because of the conflictingafidhe nutswould change my life in the usual way, with an early-morning jog. I went out the back gate of the Governor’s Mansion, through the old Quapaw Quarter, then downtown to the Old State House. The grand old place,led Power (http://www.wxrgbled.com) where I had held my first reception when I was sworn in as attorney general in 1977, was already decked out in American flags. After I ran past it, turneand headed for home, I saw a newspaper vending machine. Through the glass, I could readheadline: “Hour Arrives for Clinton.” On the way home, several passersby wished me well. Back at the mansion I took a last look at my announcement speech. I had worked on it until well past midnight; it was full of what I felt was good rhetoric and specific policy proposals, but still too long, so I cut a few lines. At noon, I was introduced on the stage by our state treasurer, Jimmie Lou Fisher, who had been with me since 1978. I started out a little awkwfeelings flooding through me.led light (http://www.wxrgbled.com) I was at once reluctant to abandon the life I knew and eager for the challenge, a little afraid but sure I was doing the right thing. I spoke for more than half anhour, thanking my family, friends, and supporters for giving me the strength “to step beyondlife and job I love, to make a commitment to a larger cause: preserving the American dream, restoring the hopes of the forgotten middle class, reclaiming the future for our children.” I closed with a pledge to “give new life to the American dream” by forming a “new covenant” with the people: “more opportunity for all, more responsibility from everyone, and a greater sense of common purpose.”When it was over, I felt elated and excited, but maybe relieved more than anything else, especially after Chelsea wisecracked, “Nice speech, Governor.” Hillary and I spent the rest othe day receiving well-wishers, and Mother, Dick, and Roger all seemed happy about it, as dHillary’s family. Mother acted as if she oil painting (http://www.oilpaintingscn.com)knew I would win. As well as I knew her, I couldn’t be sure if it was truly how she felt or just another example of her “game face.” That night we gathered around the piano with old friends. Carolyn Staley played, just as she had done sincewe were fifteen. We sang “Amazing Grace” and other hymns, and lots of songs from the sixties, including “Abraham, Martin, and John,” a tribute to the fallen heroes of our generation. I went to bed believing we could cut through the cynicism and despair and rekindle the fire those men had lit in my heart.Governor Mario Cuomo once said we campaign in poetry but we govern in prose. The statement is basically accurate, but a lot of campaigning is prose, too: putting together tand bolts, going through the required rituals, oil paintings (http://www.oilpaintingscn.com)and responding to the press. Day two of the campaign was more prose than poetry: a series of interviews designed to get me on television nationally and in major local markets, and to answer the threshold question of why I had gone back on my commitment to finish my term and whether that meant I was untrustworthy. I answered the questions as best I could and moved on to the campaign message. It was allprosaic, but it got us to dayhandmade oil paintings (http://www.oilpaintingscn.com) three. The rest of the year was full of the frantic activity of a late-starting campaign: getting organized, raising money, reaching out to specific constituencies, and working New Hampshire. Our first headquarters was in an old paint store on Seventh Street near the Capitol. I had decided to base the campaign out of Little Rock instead of Washington. It made travel