I was determined not to repeat that mistake, which was one reason I chose someone as careful and deliberate as Dick Cheney to run the vetting process. By early summer, we were focused on the finalists. Four were current or former governors: Lamar Alexander of Tennessee, Tom Ridge of Pennsylvania, Frank Keating of Oklahoma, and John Engler of Michigan. The other five were current or former senators: Jack Danforth of Missouri, Jon Kyl of Arizona, Chuck Hagel of Nebraska, and Bill Frist and Fred Thompson of Tennessee.
I talked through the choices with Dick, Laura, Karl, Karen, and a few other trusted aides. Karen recommended Tom Ridge, a Vietnam veteran from a key swing state. As a fellow chief executive, Tom would be plenty capable of running the country if anything happened to me. He was also pro-choice, which would appeal to moderates in both parties, while turning off some in the Republican base. Others made the case for Chuck Hagel, who sat on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and would bring foreign policy experience. I was close with Frank Keating and John Engler, and I knew I would work well with either. Jon Kyl was a rock-solid conservative who would help shore up the base. Lamar Alexander, Bill Frist, and Fred Thompson were fine men, and they might help me pull off an upset in Tennessee, the home state of the Democratic nominee, Vice President Al Gore.
I was intrigued by Jack Danforth. An ordained minister, Jack was honest, ethical, and forthright. His voting record over three terms in the Senate was solid. He had earned my respect with his defense of Clarence Thomas during his Supreme Court confirmation hearing in 1991. He was a principled conservative who could also appeal across party lines. As a dividend, he might help carry Missouri, which would be a key battleground state.
I thought seriously about offering the job to Danforth, but I found myself returning again and again to Dick Cheney. Dick’s experience was more extensive and diverse than that of anyone else on my list. As White House chief of staff, he had helped President Ford guide the nation through the aftermath of Watergate. He had served more than a decade in Congress and never lost an election. He had been a strong secretary of defense. He had run a global business and understood the private sector. Unlike any of the senators or governors on my list, he had stood next to presidents during the most gut-wrenching decisions that reach the Oval Office, including sending Americans to war. Not only would Dick be a valuable adviser, he would be fully capable of assuming the presidency.
While Dick knew Washington better than almost anyone, he didn’t behave like an insider. He allowed subordinates to get credit. When he spoke at meetings, his carefully chosen words carried credibility and influence.
Like me, Dick was a westerner. He enjoyed fishing and spending time outdoors. He had married Lynne Vincent, his high school sweetheart from Wyoming, and he was deeply devoted to their daughters, Liz and Mary. He had a practical mind and a dry sense of humor. He told me he had started at Yale a few years before me, but the university asked him not to come back. Twice. He said he had once filled out a compatibility test designed to match his personality with the most appropriate career. When the results came in, Dick was told he was best suited to be a funeral director.
As I mulled the decision, I called Dad for an outside opinion. I read him the names I was considering. He knew most of the candidates and said they were all fine people. “What about Dick Cheney?” I asked.
“Dick would be a great choice,” he said. “He would give you candid and solid advice. And you’d never have to worry about him going behind your back.”
By the time Dick came to the ranch to deliver his final report, I had decided to make another run at him. As he finished his briefing, I said, “Dick, you are the perfect running mate.”
While I had dropped hints before, he could tell I was serious this time. Finally, he said, “I need to talk to Lynne.” I took that as a promising sign. He told me that he had had three heart attacks and that he and Lynne were happy with their life in Dallas. Then he said, “Mary is gay.” I could tell what he meant by the way he said it. Dick clearly loved his daughter. I felt he was gauging my tolerance. “If you have a problem with this, I’m not your man,” he was essentially saying.
I smiled at him and said, “Dick, take your time. Please talk to Lynne. And I could not care less about Mary’s orientation.”
Later that day, I talked to a few trusted aides. I didn’t want to put all my cards on the table yet. I just told them I was thinking seriously about Cheney. Most were stunned. Karl was opposed. I asked him to come to the Governor’s Mansion to make his case. I invited one person to listen in. That would be Dick. I believe in airing out disagreements. I also wanted to cement a relationship of trust between Karl and Dick in case they ended up together in the White House.
Karl gamely delivered his arguments: Cheney’s presence on the ticket would add nothing to the electoral map, since Wyoming’s three electoral votes were among the most reliably Republican in the country. Cheney’s record in Congress was very conservative and included some hot-button votes that would be used against us. Dick’s heart condition would raise questions about his fitness to serve. Choosing Dad’s defense secretary could make people question whether I was my own man. Finally, Dick lived in Texas, and the Constitution prohibited two residents of the same state from receiving Electoral College votes.
I listened carefully to Karl’s objections. Dick said he thought they were pretty persuasive. I didn’t. Dick’s old congressional record didn’t bother me. I considered his experience on Capitol Hill an asset. His lack of impact on the electoral map did not concern me either. I believe voters base their decision on the presidential candidate, not the VP.*
As for Karl’s concern about picking Dad’s defense secretary, I was convinced that the benefits of choosing a serious, accomplished running mate would compensate for any perception that I was falling back on Dad for help.
Two concerns did need to be addressed: Dick’s health and residency status. Dick agreed to have a medical exam and sent the results to Dr. Denton Cooley, a respected Houston cardiologist. The doctor said Dick’s heart would hold up to the stresses of the campaign and the vice presidency. Dick and Lynne would be able to change their voter registration to Wyoming, the state Dick had represented in Congress and still considered home.
The way Dick handled those delicate weeks deepened my confidence that he was the right choice. He never once pushed me to make up my mind. In fact, he insisted that I meet with Jack Danforth before I finalized my decision. Dick and I went to see Jack and his wife, Sally, in Chicago on July 18. We had a relaxed, three-hour visit. My positive impressions of Jack were confirmed. But I had decided on Dick.
A week later, I made the formal offer. As was my habit, I got up around 5:00 a.m. After two cups of coffee, I was anxious to get moving. I managed to wait until 6:22 a.m. before I called Dick. I caught him on the treadmill, which I considered a good sign. He and Lynne came down to Austin for the announcement that afternoon.
Whistlestop campaigning with Dick Cheney. Associated Press/Eric Draper
Ten years later, I have never regretted my decision to run with Dick Cheney. His pro-life, low-tax positions helped cement key parts of our base. He had great credibility when he announced that “Help is on the way” for the military. His steady, effective answers in the vice presidential debate with Joe Lieberman reassured voters about the strength of our ticket. It gave me comfort to know he would be ready to step in if something happened to me.