Ex-Presidential Counselor and current Austin resident Karen Hughes answers questions about redistricting, partisanship and her new book at women's event.

October 1, 2003

All the President's Spin

Karen Hughes inspires memories while recollecting her promotion from press secretary to Presidential Counselor

By MIKE HAILEY

Karen Hughes took a quick trip down memory lane during her keynote speech to the 4th Annual Texas Conference for Women in Austin on Wednesday, recalling how she addressed her ex-boss simply as "George" when taking a job doing press for his first gubernatorial campaign. She humbly noted how dramatically her life had changed since those simple days - back when the man who would be president someday liked to actually drive the car in which he traveled - before there was a motorcade, before they'd had the conversation about the fact that she's tall - not big.

As the keynote speaker described how she'd known George W. Bush long before he was the leader of the free world, it made me remember how I knew Karen Hughes before she went on to become almost as famous as the President of the United States of America himself. We'd shared an initial acquaintance during the 1980s when she was a political reporter for the NBC affiliate in the Dallas-Fort Worth area and I was covering the Capitol for the Austin American-Statesman. But at that time she was no more to me than another showbiz personality competing with real journalists like myself for limited space in the media huddles surrounding Bill Clements, Bill Hobby, Gib Lewis and the others who were running the show at the Capitol in that day and age. I didn't get the opportunity to deal with Hughes on a direct professional basis until years later when the Democratic Lieutenant Governor, Bob Bullock, hired me for a job with the same title that she carried on the Republican Governor's staff. We were the press secretaries for the top two elected officials in the state. Our offices were around the corner from each other on the second floor of the Capitol - separated only by the Governor's Reception Room and the office that Bush went to work in each day himself. We worked for employers from opposing political parties - with personalities, backgrounds and leadership styles as different as night and day.

But Bullock and Bush had become good friends - and they were political allies on the major issues - with only a few relatively unpublicized exceptions. So my path at the office often crossed with Karen's. As I listened to her speech before thousands of women inside a huge room at the Austin Convention Center, I thought about how I'd enjoyed the times we'd worked together, how I'd always respected her dedication, her drive and her professional demeanor and how impressed I'd always been with her amazing instinct and her uncanny ability to cater to Bush's unique needs, to make the most of his strengths and to shore up his weaknesses.

A couple of scenes from the professional association we'd shared came to mind as the former Counselor to the President spoke to an audience that was captivated both by the magnitude of her celebrity and the poignant way in which she articulated lessons that she drew from her own one-in-a-million life experience. The first caused me to grimace briefly - and then chuckle - as I recollected to myself how Karen Hughes had been treated to a first row seat at my baptism by fire in the business of politics. I'd been a top media advisor to Bullock for all of about two weeks when a reporter who was also a friend called about a story on the welfare reform law that Congress had passed and the state was trying to decipher. At some point during the interview I seemed to forget that I was talking to the reporter - not the friend - and as the conversation continued I'd strayed off into spouting views of my own that my boss either didn't share or didn't care to make public. The next morning Bullock called me into his office and then called Karen and asked her to come over to the east wing for an impromptu meeting in the Ramsey Room. It was there - with the Governor's press secretary and several top Bullock staff members as witnesses - where I was subjected to what turned out to be the most excruciating chewing-out that I'd ever imagined much less endured. It was a terrific learning experience - and having Karen there somehow drove it home even more. I was careful not to make that mistake again.

Then there was the time that Bullock made the joke about Bush's property tax program being fit for a grave at the State Cemetery, where they happened to be attending a dedication ceremony for renovations that my boss had inspired. Karen had asked me before their speeches if I would pull Bullock over to the side afterwards for a photo op with Bush. No problem, I said. But things became chaotic when the ceremony ended and Bush and Bullock were led off together down a path cluttered with noisy people and lined with soldiers firing their rifles at clouds. They came to a fork in the sidewalk - and Bush mentioned the photo op to Bullock right before they veered off into separate directions. Bullock's hearing wasn't that good - and he didn't hear a word Bush had said. I'd pulled Bullock off to the side to explain the request when Karen came running up with a frantic expression. I told her to show the way and I'd try to drag Bullock over to have his picture taken. But it was too late. Bush thought he'd been stiffed by the same guy who'd just made fun of his pet project - and he was livid as he blew through the area screaming "come on, Karen, come on," his face beet red as they climbed into a black car and sped away.

I can't remember who was driving Bush's car that day. But I was certain that Bush would be back on message whenever they got to where they were going.

Mike Hailey's column appears weekly in the Viewpoints section