The one thing I’d come to understand about whatever it was I was supposed to be doing for the Western Whitehouse, at first with Haldeman and now no doubt with Mardian, was immediacy. When people in their positions wanted something, they wanted it right now. Physically...
The front hubs on the Bronco had obviously never been turned before. It took all the strength I had in my wrists to slowly move the hubs a hundred and eighty degrees. Finally, they were turned. I got back in the Bronco, backed up, and faced the six-foot-high berm of...
My first day working with the Home of the Western White House, as the Cotton Estate was becoming known everywhere in and around the town of San Clemente, wasn’t a workday at all. After reporting in to the remarkably strange and alienating H.R. Haldeman, there was...