PART I DONALD AND ME
CHAPTER 1 HELP WANTED
I got a call from Kellyanne Conway. This was early December of 2018.
āI think heās going to get rid of General Kelly very soon,ā she said, āand heās been talking to me about asking you to be chief of staff. I donāt know if heās going to do it or not. But youād better start thinking about what you want to say if he does.ā
Kellyanne didnāt miss much. A veteran Republican pollster, she had managed Donald Trumpās successful 2016 campaign and was now counselor to the president. She grew up Kellyanne Fitzpatrick near the Atco drag strip in South Jerseyās Camden County, playing field hockey and working eight summers on one of the areaās remaining blueberry farms. Her family, like mine, was part Irish and part Italian. Though sheād graduated from George Washington University law school and spent a couple of decades as a high-level political operative and cable-news talking head, to me she was still a plainspoken Jersey girl. She was also my best friend in the Trump White House, besides the president himself.
Trump had made no secret of his frustration with John Kelly, the retired four-star Marine general and former head of the U.S. Southern Command whoād run the White House staff for fourteen months by then. From what Iād been hearing, Trump hadnāt only been keeping Kelly in the dark on key decisions. The two men were barely speaking anymore. For his part, Kelly seemed to have concluded that the president was not up to his definition of a commander in chief. Kelly never said this in so many words, but his body language was unmistakable. The impatient eye rolls. The rocking back and forth as Trump spoke. Whatever respect had been there initially, it was long gone. The midterm elections hadnāt gone well for the Republicans. Democrats had won control of the House of Representatives with a massive 41-seat gain. Though the Republicans kept their Senate majority and actually added two seats, the high-turnout election had devolved into an angry referendum on the personality of Donald Trump. With his eyes now turning to his own reelection in two years, he was itching to shake up his cabinet and White House staff.
Heād already settled on Bill Barr to replace Jeff Sessions as attorney general, which was a big disappointment to me. Ever since Iād helped Trump get elected, Iād always said that attorney general was the one job I would accept from him. Heād offered me just about every other position this side of White House chef. Secretary of labor. Secretary of homeland security. Ambassador to the Vatican. Ambassador to Italy. He figured Iād be a good fit at the Vatican since I am Catholic. He thought of me for ambassador to Italy because my mother was Italian. I donāt think the analysis went any deeper than that. Trump didnāt overanalyze choices like these.
Heād even asked if I wanted to be chairman of the Republican National Committee part-timeāwhile I stayed on as governor of New Jersey. Iād said āno, thank youā to all of it. For me, it was attorney general or nothing, as I kept telling the president. I really wasnāt interested in anything else.
But what about chief of staff? The person who actually runs the White House, in a normal White House anyway. That might be interesting. Setting the daily agenda. Overseeing the presidentās schedule and controlling access to him. Corralling the cabinet. Keeping the senior staffers from trying to kill each other. That job was especially important, I knew, in a White House as seat-of-the-pants as this one, where the president wanted to run everything himself. Reince Priebus, Trumpās first chief of staff, had failed to master the difficult managing-up part. Now General Kelly had stumbled, too.
After I got the heads-up call from Kellyanne, I heard nothing for more than a week. I was back home in New Jersey, doing what Iād been doing since Iād stopped being governor in January and had decided against moving down to Washington: building my consulting and law businesses. Trying to help my clients. Sharing my political commentary with George Stephanopoulos on ABC. Serving on boards of directors. Making real money for the first time in my life. This isnāt called āfreelancingā anymore, I was told. Itās a āportfolio career,ā meaning you do a lot of different things for a lot of different people who believe you still have the knowledge, the power, and the experience to get stuff done.
All was going well.
Then, on December 12, I got a call from Donald Trumpās personal secretary Molly. āThe president would like to see you tomorrow evening at the residence for a conversation,ā she said.
āWhat about?ā
āHe didnāt tell me,ā she answered. āHe just wants you to come to the White House, and the meeting will be up in the residence.ā
āOkay,ā I said. āIāll be there.ā
I made a reservation for the next afternoon on the Amtrak Acela train to Washington.
Was this the follow-up to what Kellyanne was talking about? Or something totally different? With Trump, I knew it could be anything. His mind was constantly jumping from topic to topic, especially when the topics involved hiring and firing the people who reported to him. Especially the firing part. Heād think about firing someone, poll his friends for their opinions, think about not doing it, then think about doing it againāand truly, you could never really be sure how, when, or where he would land.
That was just Trump.
All I knew was what Kellyanne had told me and that I hadnāt heard another word about it since. āIf I had a guess,ā I said that night to my wife, Mary Pat, āI think heās offering me chief of staff. What do you think I should do?ā
Mary Pat had been through this drill with me before. As usual, she threw the decision back at me. āDo whatever you want to do,ā she said, ābut Iām not coming to Washington with the kids. We need to stay in New Jersey.ā
We have four busy children, two boys and two girls. Our younger son, Patrick, was a senior in high school. Our younger daughter, Bridget, was a sophomore. āWe canāt go anywhere,ā Mary Pat said. āAnd this is a twenty-four-seven job. If you go, youāre gonna go down there and live on your own. Whenever you can come back and see us, youāll come back and see us. But if I were you, I wouldnāt make a decision on the spot if he offers it. Tell him youāve got to come back and talk to me, and weāll figure it out.ā
āAgreed,ā I said.
Before I left home for the train station, I knew there was only one person to call.
The great James A. Baker III.
To me, Baker was the wisest of Washington wise men. Heād been secretary of the Treasury under Ronald Reagan, secretary of state for George H. W. Bush, and chief of staffāthe gold-standard chief of staffāfor both presidents. No one else had Bakerās unique mix of Princeton-rugby polish, Marine Corps confidence, insider-Washington savvy, and Texas common senseāor, at age eighty-eight, his eternal aura of yes-I-really-have-seen-and-done-it-all. If anyone could help to steer me on this one, it was James Baker.
When I called his office at the Baker Botts law firm, he got right on the phone. āI need your advice,ā I told him.
āWell,ā he said in that laconic way of his, āif youāre calling me, that means youāre about to be offered the worst fuckinā job in Washington.ā
āI think I am,ā I said.
Iām not quite sure how he knew that. I didnāt ask. I just fell back on my default assumption: Jim Baker knows everything.
He was generous with his advice. āThere are some things you should demand before you agree to take the job,ā he said. I grabbed a pen and a legal pad. I wrote furiously as he ticked off the things I should ask for, taking notes as carefully as I could.
Hereās what I wrote on my pad:
1. Chief of staff gets to staff the White House.
2. I get to manage the staff with the exception of Jared and Ivanka. On Jared and Ivanka, POTUS gets to determine role. Chief of staff needs to be fully informed of their activities.
3. Walk-in rights for Chief of Staff to any White House meetingāpresidential or otherwise.
4. Walk-in rights for staff determined by Chief of Staff with the exception of the family of POTUS.
5. Chief of Staff controls his public appearances with assumption being Chief of Staff is a behind-the-scenes playerānot a TV star.
6. Chief of Staff has representative at campaign and convention for planning and coordination purposes.
7. All disputes/disagreements between CoS and POTUS to be settled in private. No public statements of dissatisfaction or criticism.
8. Ability to go home on weekends to see Mary Pat and the children.
9. Attorney paid for by the RNC to advise me personally on various issues.
āType it up,ā Baker said. āAnd make him sign it. Keep it in your desk drawer. And attach to it an undated but signed resignation letter. The resignation letter should say, āDear Mr. President: Due to the fact that we have not been able to keep our agreement upon which I accepted this job in the first place, I hereby tender my resignation as White House chief of staff.ā ā
That was a lot to write down, but I think I got all of it. And Baker delivered all those points right off the top of his head. And I had to take it seriously, he said.
āIf he ever breaks one of the agreements heās made on this list, detach the letter from the list, walk it in, hand it to him, and walk out. He has to know that youāre gonna do that. You canāt threaten it. You just have to do it. If youāre going to take the job, you have to be committed to doing it just that way.ā
I told Baker I really appreciated his suggestions, all of which sounded wise to me. He left me with one last thought.
āGovernor,ā he said, ādo what you think is best, and anything you ever need from me, Iām here to help. But Iāll tell you this. If you take this job, youāre the greatest American patriot since Paul Revere.ā
No, no one could ever accuse James Baker of holding back.
āI hear you, Mr. Secretary,ā I said. āI hear you.ā
āThatās all,ā he said. āThatās all, my friend.ā
The Amtrak train was just pulling out of Trenton when my phone rang. It was Rudy Giuliani, the former mayor of New York City, the presidentās personal lawyer, and so much more. He and Trump had a relationship so long and complicated, it cannot possibly be summed up in a few lines. But the two of them spoke regularly. And though he often complained about Rudy, he also listened to a lot of what Rudy said.
āHeās offering you chief of staff tonight,ā Rudy said to me right after hello. āI just got done talking to him. Heās offering it to you. What are you gonna do?ā
āI really donāt know,ā I answered.
āOkay, well, youāve got a little time on the train to figure out what youāre going to say. But I think thatās going to be the question.ā
It was Rudyās call that wiped any lingering doubt from my mind. I hadnāt been summoned to the White House for idle conversation. Kellyanne hadnāt read too much into Trumpās latest personnel complaints. Heād called me down to Washington to talk to me about being his chief of staff. But I still didnāt know what I was going to say. I had Kellyanneās heads-up, which I was grateful for. I had Mary Patās reaction, which was important to me. I had Bakerās points. I had Rudyās clarification. What else did I need?
When I got to the White House gate, several dozen people were milling outside. This being December 13, the White House holiday parties were now in full swing. Afternoon parties. Evening parties. Different groups were invited to come at different times. I didnāt linger long enough to figure out whose turn this was. As soon as I came in off the sidewalk, one of the agents stopped me and steered me in a different direction. To me, that was the final confirmation of what I already knew. They donāt want me being seen here. Iām going to be offered this job.
The agent walked me into the house and up to the south side of the second floor, where the residence is, then through the Center Hall and into what is known as the Yellow Oval Room. First used as a drawing room by President John Adams, itās had many different uses over the past two-plus centuries. Itās been a library, an office, and a family parlor. More recent presidents, including Trump, have used it for small receptions and for greeting heads of state immediately before state dinners. The southwest window has a swing-sash door to the Truman Balcony. Double doors on the west side lead to the president and First Ladyās bedrooms.
This is the innermost of inner White House sanctumsāunless the president invites you to jump on his bed.
As I walked into the room, Melania stood to greet me. I hadnāt known the First Lady was going to be joining us. āHe had to take a phone call,ā she said. āHeāll be here in a second.ā
I sat on the sofa across from her and set my briefcase down. Melania could not have been more welcoming. She and I chatted for a few minutes. My family. Her family. No business. Just a couple of old friends catching up. Iād had laryngitis and my voice still sounded scratchy. She insisted on getting me some tea with honey.
The tea arrived, and then Donald bounded in with his usual energy and volume. He was not a guy who believed in quiet entrancesā¦ anywhere.
āWhatās with the briefcase?ā he said to me.
āWell,ā I answered, āthis is a business meeting. So Iām here to do business.ā
āOh,ā he said, drawing out the ohhh into a couple of syllables. āSo weāve got a briefcase? What? Are we going to take notes?ā
āYes, we are,ā I said.
Iām not sure why the briefcase struck him, but clearly it did. Thatās just Trump, I suppose, the Donald Iād gotten to know, instinctively commanding the room. He fixates on things. āOkay,ā he said. āWell, Melania, this is a ...