The teen smoking problem was a tough nut to crack. He and his allies thought they could wash away all their sins over the last four years in my dirty laundry. We did “Summertime” and “My Funny Valentine,” with Havel enthusiastically joining in on the tambourine. The slightest misstep could lose a vote or two, plunging us off the razor’s edge into defeat.
In states like Washington and Arkansas, the message was reinforced by pictures of a gay couple kissing or at a church altar. Now he would govern with a conservative Republican Congress. In so doing, I had hurt more than my family and my administration. I ended the speech with personal thanks and a personal plea: My friends, fifty-four years ago this week I was born in a summer storm to a young widow in a small southern town.
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