the bidding because we may be talking about the outcome of the presidential
election here. Right now, Governor Bush is leading Vice President Gore by we think—it’s thirteen hundred ten votes if Judy’s
math is right. You’ve got, roughly based on the past, a couple of thousand overseas absentee ballots,… I’m not trying to put
words in your mouth, but is it a fair statement that we do not yet know who has won the state of Florida?”
“We’ve got George Bush ahead,” Kast says. “But it’s not—those are preliminary and unofficial figures. They’re not by any means
official.”
Jimenez places a call to Kast’s boss, Clay Roberts.
“How long would it take to conduct a recount, Mr. Kast?” Woodruff asks.
“If we’re thrown into a recount, or if there is a recount, they’ll start that just as soon as we notify them, which will probably
be first thing tomorrow morning,” Kast says.
The anchors ask Kast how long that would take. But while they’re talking, Clay Roberts tells Kast to get off the phone.
“Wouldn’t there still be a ten-day separation?” Shaw asks.
Pause.
“Did we lose Ed Kast?” Shaw asks.
“We may have,” Woodruff says.
“He certainly was a lot of information,” Shaw says.
Exactly the problem. Jimenez and Roberts do not want an elections officer going on TV and saying that Bush is actually not
yet the official winner of Florida.
Bush attorney Ben Ginsberg, former counsel for the Republican National Committee, is in the streets to rejoice. With the rest
of the crowd, the bald, bespectacled, neon-orange-bearded attorney waits and waits for Gore to concede and Bush to take the
stage.
He waits. And waits.
It doesn’t seem quite right, he thinks. Something’s off. On the jumbotron TVs set up for the crowds, CNN’s Candy Crowley
reports that Gore has retracted his concession.
Ginsberg’s cell phone goes off. It’s Rove’s assistant.
“You better get back here,” she tells him.
Back at HQ, Ginsberg’s sitting at a desk when Don Evans, Bush’s oil-slick good-ol’-boy campaign chair saunters by.
“Think it’s a recount?” he asks Ginsberg.
“Yep,” Ginsberg says.
“Better start gettin’ people to fly,” Evans says.
Others are already on it. Ken Mehlman, thirty-four, the national field director for the Bush campaign, was standing—waiting—on
Congress Street when he soon enough realized something was up. He hightailed it back to HQ and, working with Tony Feather,
figured out who needed to get to Florida ASAP. They decided on Brian Noyes, the regional political director whose territory
included the Sunshine State; Coddy Johnson, a regional political director who had the central states; policy guy Joel Kaplan;
Kristin Silverberg, and attorneys Kevin Murphy and Kevin Martin. All are notified: go back to your apartments and get maybe
two days’ worth of clothes. They have a 6 A.M . charter flight to Miami.
In Nashville, Daley calls an executive at CBS, tells him to take back the premature call that Bush won. Feldman calls the
political director at ABC, tells him the same thing. NBC soon declares Florida “too close to call.” On CNN, the check mark
remains by Bush’s name. But not for long. At 4:05 A.M. , CNN removes the check mark from Bush’s name. The electoral count becomes: Gore 249, Bush 246.
Within the hour, Daley and Evans make their respective announcements to their respective perplexed crowds.
Daley says that he’s “been in politics for a very long time, but I’ve never seen a night like this.” The networks called the
election, Daley said, but “it now appears that their call was premature…. Until the result is official, our campaign continues,”
he says to cheers in Nashville. Daley says that Gore and Lieberman are ready to concede—but only after the Florida tally is
official.
In Austin, Evans addresses the sopping-wet crowd. “We hope and we believe we have elected the next president
election here. Right now, Governor Bush is leading Vice President Gore by we think—it’s thirteen hundred ten votes if Judy’s
math is right. You’ve got, roughly based on the past, a couple of thousand overseas absentee ballots,… I’m not trying to put
words in your mouth, but is it a fair statement that we do not yet know who has won the state of Florida?”
“We’ve got George Bush ahead,” Kast says. “But it’s not—those are preliminary and unofficial figures. They’re not by any means
official.”
Jimenez places a call to Kast’s boss, Clay Roberts.
“How long would it take to conduct a recount, Mr. Kast?” Woodruff asks.
“If we’re thrown into a recount, or if there is a recount, they’ll start that just as soon as we notify them, which will probably
be first thing tomorrow morning,” Kast says.
The anchors ask Kast how long that would take. But while they’re talking, Clay Roberts tells Kast to get off the phone.
“Wouldn’t there still be a ten-day separation?” Shaw asks.
Pause.
“Did we lose Ed Kast?” Shaw asks.
“We may have,” Woodruff says.
“He certainly was a lot of information,” Shaw says.
Exactly the problem. Jimenez and Roberts do not want an elections officer going on TV and saying that Bush is actually not
yet the official winner of Florida.
Bush attorney Ben Ginsberg, former counsel for the Republican National Committee, is in the streets to rejoice. With the rest
of the crowd, the bald, bespectacled, neon-orange-bearded attorney waits and waits for Gore to concede and Bush to take the
stage.
He waits. And waits.
It doesn’t seem quite right, he thinks. Something’s off. On the jumbotron TVs set up for the crowds, CNN’s Candy Crowley
reports that Gore has retracted his concession.
Ginsberg’s cell phone goes off. It’s Rove’s assistant.
“You better get back here,” she tells him.
Back at HQ, Ginsberg’s sitting at a desk when Don Evans, Bush’s oil-slick good-ol’-boy campaign chair saunters by.
“Think it’s a recount?” he asks Ginsberg.
“Yep,” Ginsberg says.
“Better start gettin’ people to fly,” Evans says.
Others are already on it. Ken Mehlman, thirty-four, the national field director for the Bush campaign, was standing—waiting—on
Congress Street when he soon enough realized something was up. He hightailed it back to HQ and, working with Tony Feather,
figured out who needed to get to Florida ASAP. They decided on Brian Noyes, the regional political director whose territory
included the Sunshine State; Coddy Johnson, a regional political director who had the central states; policy guy Joel Kaplan;
Kristin Silverberg, and attorneys Kevin Murphy and Kevin Martin. All are notified: go back to your apartments and get maybe
two days’ worth of clothes. They have a 6 A.M . charter flight to Miami.
In Nashville, Daley calls an executive at CBS, tells him to take back the premature call that Bush won. Feldman calls the
political director at ABC, tells him the same thing. NBC soon declares Florida “too close to call.” On CNN, the check mark
remains by Bush’s name. But not for long. At 4:05 A.M. , CNN removes the check mark from Bush’s name. The electoral count becomes: Gore 249, Bush 246.
Within the hour, Daley and Evans make their respective announcements to their respective perplexed crowds.
Daley says that he’s “been in politics for a very long time, but I’ve never seen a night like this.” The networks called the
election, Daley said, but “it now appears that their call was premature…. Until the result is official, our campaign continues,”
he says to cheers in Nashville. Daley says that Gore and Lieberman are ready to concede—but only after the Florida tally is
official.
In Austin, Evans addresses the sopping-wet crowd. “We hope and we believe we have elected the next president
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