Going Rogue: An American Life (30 page)

116 •

Going Rogue

was a bigwig in the London headquarters of BP.
In
the governor’s race, Halcro pulled 9 percent of the vote. He later asked for a job in my administration.

Later on, during the vice presidential campaign, Halcroalong with the Wasilla town crier mentioned previously, plus the falafel lady Andree McLeod-would be touted as “expett” sources on all things Palin by the national press.

The gubernatorial election required a couple dozen more debates, events, and joint appearances with my opponents. We faced off against one another so often that I pretty much had Knowles’s retread of his past campaigns’ rhetoric memorized by October.
It
was fun to draw out the contrasts between us, and enlightening for voters to learn, through those contrasts, what our priotities were-he as a liberal, and me as a conservative. One beautiful but solemn day about six weeks before the final vore, 3,500 Alaska-based troops were about to be deployed to a war zone overseas. I sat the crowd on that chilly autumn day

on the military base to honor those brave souls, knowing that far too many wouldn’t be seen by us again until their pictures flashed across some news screen announcing they had made the ultimate sacrifice for America.

The candidates and I had already met. numerous times in various public forums. There wete a dozen more scheduled in the upcoming weeks. The chamber of commerce held its weekly
luncheon, and the candidates were invited to attend our
umpteenth event to debate pretty much the same topics in front of pretty much the same crowd. The forum was on the same day as the Airborne Infantry Brigade’s deployment ceremony. I chose the troOps, the other guys chose the Sean Parnell, who

had just won the GOP primary for the lieutenant governor’s race and so was now teamed up with me on the ticket, was to attend the chamber luncheon in my stead because the front
•

llJ

.

SARAH

PALIN

runners and I had already been rogerher ar anorher forum earlier rhar same day.

My opponenrs and rhe press had a field day wirh rhar one:

“Palin a No-Show at Chamber of Commerce Luncheon Debate:’

The guys’ campaigns raised such a fuss about it that they wouldn’t let Sean participate; he was permitted to give only shott opening remarks. I couldn’t make the media understand why I had chosen to skip another rubber-chicken campaign stop and instead attend this significanr military exercise. I tried to explain: the chamber of commerce would be here next week; our troops would not.

Despite such occasional pettiness, my family conrinued to enjoy the campaign immensely. Everyone was involved, including Todd’s eighty-seven-year-old Yupik elder grandma, Lena. She was a onewoman Eskimo whisrle-stop tour!

Lena grew up in Dillingham on Bristol Bay. Her history sounds like somerhing out of a Herman Melville novel. Her father, “Glass Eye Billy” Bartman, was a Dutchman, a sled-dog freighter and caretaker of the Alaska Packets saltry, a salmon cannery, on the Igushik River. Her mother was a full-blooded Yupik Eskimo who gtew up in a
barabara-a
sod-roofed dwelling excavated from the earth and built partially underground to protect its residenrs from the wicked arctic winds that screamed across the tundra in the village of Tuklung.

Lena’s first husband died of ruberculosis-a loc of villagers did. Her second husband, AI Andree, was a boatbuilder and Bristol Bay fisherman. Lena is a tough frontier woman. How many American women do you know who can weave a grass basket; sew squirrel skins inro a garmenr and adorn it with inrricate beadwork; haul a thousand salmon Out of the ocean, get them to markec in
il,8

Going Rogue

a sailboat, then take some home, fillet them, and serve them for dinner?

During the campaign, Lena went around Dillingham talking with the Yupik elders.

“Do you know my grandson Todd?” she would ask. Everyone in Dillingham knew Todd.

“His wife is running for Boss Alaska.”

Like Lena, we were tireless, because every vote andevery voter mattered. Most of our volunte.er staff had never been involved in a campaign before, yet they made sure we were always visible and viable.

Campaign staff kept it real by bringing their kids, along with ours, on the trail’ as much as possible. We’d stop to take picrures of them standing by frozen waterfalls along the highway or with a double rainbow over the tundra in the background, We all memorized every Big & Rich, Martina McBride, and Travis Tritt ever recorded, singing at the top of our lungs to awake

on the road,

My media campaign was the essence of simplicity-which would also be my communication strategy as governor, My two themes were “New Energy for Alaska” and “Take a Stand.” I ran a few upbeat commercials that fearured my family and Alaska’s natural beauty, highlighting our Piper Super Cub airplane, reading to our kids who attend public schools, and thanking law
enforcement officers. It wasn’t’ so much to portray a “Little House
on the Tundra” scene as to let the visual imagery speak to my priorities. In those ads, I promised that I would fight to protect our state’s future, I was as sick and tired of the corruption and politicsas-usual as the majority of Alaskans were, but I kept an optimistic message flowing to show how we’d turn things around for the people.

•

119

•

SARAH

PALIN

3

Triumph on November 7, 2006!

On e1ecrion nighr, hundreds of us filed inro a ballroom at the Hotel Captain Cook to celebrare our victory. We were so thrilled and rhankful-and finally rired-as the results poured in. We won wirh nearly half the vote in a six-way race. Volunreers joined me rhar morning, and in the days leading up to the election, waving signs in the freezing cold with a diesel-generated spotlight rhar Dad and his buddies jury-rigged ro shine on an enormous Palin sign along the highway in the dark winrer hours. We were rhere in the Caprain Cook to warm up and celebrare. After our victory speech and between enrhusiastic thank-yollS

to our volunteers, we quickly discussed our nexr morning’s press conference and then tried ro hit the hay in the horel before rhe few remaining nighttime hours turned into our new day. It was a rowdy nighr, though, because rhe hallway was full of our celebraring kids who were eating lots of cake. Dad and his buddies Adrian Lane and Don Benson wenr to a local bar called Humpy’s, which they said was like a funeral inside. Apparently a lot of the Knowles camp was rhere. Some drunk guy walked in and announced, “Tony Knowles got jacked up!” Dad led the cheers in rhe bar-for all rhree of them who’d cheer anyway.

All rhrough Alaska’s history, rhe inaugural swearing-in had taken place in the capital city ofJuneau. Bur in a break with tradition, I selected Fairbanks, the Golden Hearr Ciry, as the location for the December 4 ceremony. The fifrierh anniversary of srarehood would take place during our term, so we wanred to celebrate the Alaska
•

120

•