Hammered

I had first gotten wind of this weeks before, when Buckham approached me at my desk. He asked if I knew much about House floor procedure (I knew a little) and if I would research how members could ask for a new election for House speaker (I wouldn't). I assumed Buckham was worried about members contemplating such a move; the idea of DeLay himself attempting to dethrone Gingrich never dawned on me.

Obviously, however, it did dawn on DeLay -- encouraged, I suspect, by Buckham -- and on other members of the Republican leadership.

Over the weekend, DeLay was questioned on "Fox News Sunday." Brit Hume asked DeLay if he was aware of a resolution to remove the speaker. DeLay said he had heard a rumor to that effect but wouldn't admit complicity. Later that week, the Hill newspaper reported on the meeting, prompting a major firestorm -- and another headache for this communications director.

The most dramatic moment came when Gingrich called for a conference, and all the leaders had to explain themselves to the members. Buckham and I clashed over what DeLay should say: I wanted him to be diplomatic, and Ed wanted him to go all-out after Majority Leader Dick Armey for first backing the coup and then turning his back on the coup plotters. While I was not present, my understanding is that Tom fessed up to his own role while also implicating Armey.

At the end of the closed-door conference, hoping against hope that Tom didn't really intend to lead a coup against the speaker despite the evidence I had seen, I told the press gathered outside: "He was tired and it was late. He may have said he would vote to take the speaker out, but he didn't mean it."

More than a year after the coup attempt against Newt, the Capitol was rocked again, this time by a deranged killer. But to some of DeLay's top staff, the tragedy was just another opportunity to promote their man.

I was sitting in the whip office when the shots rang out. I dove under my desk. Soon, young staffers ran into my office and we shut the door. After the shooting stopped, I saw two bodies in the hall.

I later learned that John M. Gibson, part of Tom's police protection, had been killed while shooting and wounding Russell E. Weston Jr., the attacker. Officer Jacob J. Chestnut was also killed.

After the shooting, we were kept in DeLay's office, where the House sergeant-at-arms called to ask that we not talk to the media. Not long after, however, I looked up and saw that Michael Scanlon was on television, describing the scene inside the building.

Scanlon was DeLay's new press secretary, having been hired after Rudy became deputy chief of staff. I couldn't believe he had disregarded the Capitol Police request. Even worse, Scanlon was describing a scene he had never seen. During the shooting, he was outside smoking a cigarette. It was disrespectful, but in keeping with Scanlon's M.O. -- the spinner who was always spinning for himself.

Bill Clinton was impeached for three reasons: DeLay, Rudy and Scanlon.

Tom had the vision -- he was angry that Clinton lied to the American people, and he was not alone. Early on, as the House was considering beginning impeachment proceedings, the Democrats offered a resolution that could have led to a bipartisan process. But DeLay rejected it. He didn't want to give them an inch.