NOVEMBER 26, 2001
I WAS SITTING ALONE in my office, glancing up occasionally at the television in the corner, monitoring the ceremony taking place in the White House Rose Garden. I could see Dayna Curry and Heather Mercer standing by the podium. President Bush had just extolled the two women for their courage, faith, and perseverance, and now they were about to take turns to speak. My mind wandered off a bit. It must have been a day or so after the rescue that David Donohue had pulled me aside. “I want to tell you how impressed I am by your people. No one else could have done what Jim did.” It was high praise, particularly coming from David.
I looked up again at the screen. I can’t remember which of the two it was, but it seemed that in her enthusiasm one of the young evangelicals was going off script, and well over time. Never again, presumably, would she have such a platform to give witness to her faith. But one could see that there was little of calculation in what she was doing. Her demeanor bespoke the earnest naïveté which characterizes the saintly. Given the setting, it made for an interesting clash of cultures. Maybe it was my imagination, but the president was beginning to look a bit nervous, and there seemed to be an uncomfortable stirring among his aides on the periphery of the screen. I had had a bit of experience with presidential visits, and knew the extent to which the U.S. chief executive’s every waking minute was carefully choreographed. It was clearly time for this press event to be over, and for the president to be moving on to the next thing. But until this young woman decided to finish speaking, no one was going anywhere. She literally held them captive before the cameras. I smiled. This was ending perfectly.