Living History, Unknown [books to read in your 20s female TXT] 📗

I joined Bill, Chelsea, my mother, and scores of supporters in a deluge of confetti and balloons.

Dozens of hugs and handshakes later, I stood at the podium to thank my supporters. I told them: “Sixty-two counties, sixteen months, three debates, two opponents and six black pantsuits later, because of you, we are here!”

After eight years with a title but no portfolio, I was now “Senator-elect.”

Two days after the election, with the outcome of the presidential race between Al Gore and George W. Bush still in dispute, I returned to Washington to host a celebration of the White House’s two-hundredth anniversary. It could have been an awkward evening, given the political tension in the air. All the living former Presidents and First Ladies were there (except President and Mrs. Reagan, who stayed at home in California because of President Reagan’s Alzheimer’s disease) as well as descendants and relatives of other Presidents. The magnificent black-tie gala sponsored by the White House Historical Association turned into a testament to American democracy as each former President spoke eloquently about our nation’s endurance in the face of controversy and upheaval.

“Once again,” said President Gerald Ford, “the world’s oldest republic has demonstrated the youthful vitality of its institutions and the ability and the necessity to come together … after a hard-fought campaign. The clash of partisan political ideas does remain just that-to be quickly followed by a peaceful transfer of authority.”

Here was living proof that America’s foundation was stronger than individuals and politics, and that while Presidents, Senators and House members come and go, the continuity of the government remains unbroken.

In the end, Al Gore won the popular vote by over 500,000 ballots but lost the presidency in the Electoral College. The Supreme Court voted 5-4 on December 12 to stop a recount of votes in Florida, effectively sealing the victory for Bush. Seldom if ever in our history has the people’s right to choose their elected officials been thwarted by such a blatant abuse of judicial power.

Even before the merits of the appeal were heard, justice Antonin Scalia telegraphed the irrationality of the partisan decision to come by granting a stay which abruptly stopped the counting of ballots in Florida on December 9, 2000. Continuing the recount, according to Scalia, might cause “irreparable harm” to Governor Bush. Scalia wrote that counting the ballots might “cast a cloud upon what [Bush] claims to be the legitimacy of his election.” His logic seemed to be: Counting the ballots must be stopped, because the ballots might show that Bush did not win after all. The decision in Bush v. Gore turned the normally conservative Supreme Court on its head. Instead of deferring to the highest court of Florida on pure matters of Florida state law, the Court reached out to find federal issues on which to overrule it. And rather than continuing its narrow view of equal protection claims, the majority went out of its way to find a violation of equal protection.

The majority said Florida’s recount standard, requiring any ballot to be counted if it reflected the clear intent of the voter, was not specific enough because it could be interpreted differently by different vote counters. Their solution was to deny the right to vote to all citizens subject to the recount, no matter how clearly their ballots were marked.

Amazingly, the Court carefully warned that “[o]ur consideration is limited to the present circumstances, for the problem of equal protection in election processes generally presents many complexities.” They knew the decision was indefensible and had no intention of letting its reasoning be applied to other cases. It was just the best argument they could come up with on short notice to achieve the result they had already decided to impose. I have no doubt that if Bush, rather than Gore, had been behind in the incomplete count, the five conservative justices would have joined in a decision to recount all the ballots.

Americans have now moved beyond that controversial election and accepted the rule of law, but as we look to the next elections, we must ensure that every citizen is free to vote without fear, coercion or confusion at polling places with modern equipment and trained poll workers. We can only hope that the Supreme Court exercises greater restraint and objectivity if it ever handles a disputed presidential election again.

Bill and I were dismayed by the outcome of the election and concerned about what a return to the failed Republican policies of the past might mean for our nation. My only comfort was that I would soon begin my new job and have the opportunity to use my voice and vote on behalf of the values and policies I thought best for New York and America. Finally, the day arrived. Since only members of Congress and their staff are allowed on the Senate floor―with no exceptions for Presidents―Bill had to witness my swearing-in from the visitor’s gallery, along with Chelsea and other family members. For the past eight years, I had watched from above as Bill shared his vision for our country in this same building. On January 3, 2001, I stepped onto the floor of the Senate to swear to “support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic … and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter.”

When I turned and looked to the gallery above me, I saw my mother, my daughter and my husband smiling at the newest senator from New York.

Three days later, on a rainy Saturday afternoon, we held a farewell party under a big tent on the South Lawn for everyone who had worked or volunteered in the White House over the previous eight years. People showed up from all over the country to see friends and reminisce about their work in the Administration. It was a spirited reunion that gave Bill and me the opportunity to say one final “thank you” to hundreds of men and women who