Page 20 of 107 Days
That Friday morning, the VP selection committee received final vetting memos on the three candidates we’d narrowed down as finalists.
The committee would be going through the memos to make sure there were no last-minute surprises before we called them in for face-to-face meetings over the weekend.
The residence was staked out by the press, and the media chatter was all about when I’d be interviewing.
It felt like we were holding a papal conclave in the residence and the press outside were waiting for the white smoke.
Getting those candidates in and out discreetly, without exposing them to a barrage, was going to take some cloak-and-dagger shenanigans.
I’d need to make the decision by Monday at the latest, since we’d announced that I’d appear with my chosen running mate Tuesday night in Philadelphia.
The announcement location had been picked well in advance, simply because Pennsylvania was the most critical swing state, with nineteen electoral votes.
Secrecy around the interviews was important.
It built excitement and momentum for the campaign.
I planned to announce my decision by video, text, and email to supporters just before the Philly rally.
Trump, of course, immediately took the most divisive tack he could think of, musing publicly that Josh Shapiro’s Jewish identity would cost me the votes of Arab Americans. It was a typical dog whistle, except that now the frequency was audible to more than his Charlottesville tiki-torch acolytes.
The timing of my running mate announcement had been driven by the virtual roll call of Democratic convention delegates that had started the night before.
I couldn’t announce a running mate until I officially held the nomination.
There was zero suspense about that, since mine was the only name on the ballot.
Because of our superhuman effort on the day Joe dropped out, we’d made it clear that I had the support needed, and no other candidate competed to get the three hundred signatures required by party rules to challenge me.
The balloting was open till Monday evening, but word came through about 1:00 p.m. Friday from the party chair reporting that I’d crossed the threshold in the vote tally, making me the nominee.
I was pressing on with the business at hand when Sheila grabbed me by the arms and said, “Please just take thirty seconds! You need to appreciate the historic thing you’ve just accomplished!”
Trump had been saying he’d decide about debating me once I’d clinched the nomination.
Sure enough, he released a statement on his Truth Social platform.
It was classic Trump. Yes, he would debate me.
But he’d reneged on the agreement negotiated for that debate.
According to him, it would now be on September 4, not 10; it would be on Fox News, not ABC; and “the Rules will be similar to the Rules of my Debate with Sleepy Joe, who has been treated horribly by his Party – BUT WITH A FULL ARENA AUDIENCE!”
I’m sure his team leaned on him to keep the rule that mics would be silenced during the other debater’s time.
That was the one rule I wanted changed. I knew I could handle his disruptive asides, and I wanted viewers to see and hear how undisciplined and bullying he could be.
His team knew that his crazy ranting didn’t play well, so they’d kept that requirement in place.
The wording of his statement made it sound as if I’d agreed to all the other changes.
Nope.
We could sense an air of panic in the Trump campaign.
That day we’d announced that we’d taken in $310 million in the last month alone, more than double his donations over the same period.
So we decided to punch back hard. I responded that I would be in the ABC studio on September 10 whether he was there or not and would be glad to use the ninety minutes of airtime exclusively.