A Tale of Watergate: Straight From the Source and Still Spellbinding

The Watergate Girl, My Fight for Truth and Justice Against a Criminal President

by Jill Wine-Banks

THE book to read as we shelter in place

THE book to read as we shelter in place

My regular series of Literary Salons had been put on hold during my own book launch and I wanted to restart it with a flourish this spring. My “get” was MSNBC legal analyst and former Watergate prosecutor Jill Wine-Banks introducing her new book. We held the salon on March 12, virtually on the cusp of having to sequester ourselves in the face of the coronavirus. The series is back on hold, just like the rest of life right now, but we went out with a big blockbuster of a bang, and I highly recommend the book.

I first wrote about Jill in this blog back in the summer of 2017 as part of a Re-Radicalized series, focusing on individuals newly recharged as activists. She’d just made her debut on MSNBC on the strength of an explosive op-ed comparing the current political environment to that of Watergate, “Comey’s Firing Is as Bad as the Saturday Night Massacre.” It turned out that this move was just the latest step in an amazing career, one that began with Richard Nixon and, as she put it, was “re-invented by Trump.”

At the time she’d also been working on a memoir about her role as the only woman prosecutor on the Watergate team, a story that would offer a different lens on the familiar tale, as well as how she was able to soar in a once-in-a-lifetime career spotlight, despite being routinely undermined as a “woman lawyer.” At the time, Jill had been worried that Watergate would no longer be of sufficient interest or relevance to support her book. Instead, events surrounding the current presidential administration have actually launched her back onto the national stage under a light as bright as it was in the Watergate courtroom. She’s become our interpreter for how history has been repeating itself, down to the astounding details.

The timing for her book launch is now perfect.  And, with the virus shut down, we can all use a spellbinding diversion.

At the salon, I had the honor of leading an “in conversation” interview with Jill. It was a thrill to listen as she gave us the skinny on behind-the-scenes intrigue and insights about what we may have thought we knew. Salon participants also peppered her with additional questions we’d always wanted to ask. Here are a few tidbits to whet your appetite for this amazing book.

 
 

The “Lady Lawyer”

the mini-skirted prosecutor

the mini-skirted prosecutor

The challenge of taking on an entire presidential administration was formidable enough, yet as the only woman on the team, Jill also had to contend with 1973 attitudes, where she was regularly singled out and undermined. The daily scrutiny of her apparel and hairstyles led to some relatively benign monikers including “the mini-skirted prosecutor” and “the leggiest Watergate lawyer,” though she took umbrage at being called a “lady lawyer.” There’s no such thing, she said. “I was a lawyer, period.”

The condescension of the times also more seriously impacted her role as a trial lawyer in the case. Watergate Judge John Sirica would regularly interrupt with comments he thought would be useful, like telling a combative witness, “Now, you never gain arguing with a woman,” and stopping an interrogation of a female witness with “we can’t have two ladies getting into an argument in the courtroom.” 

“I couldn’t say anything in those days. I had to just stand and take it,” Jill said. Imagine what she would do today.

 
 

A Legal Version of All the President’s Men

During the interview, I admitted I had been a Watergate junkie, and had initially approached her book assuming it would be interesting, but not new. After all, we all know the story, right? I was so wrong. The page-turning book is both fascinating and revelatory. I offered up my layperson’s interpretation, comparing it to All the President’s Men. That book was the story of the journalists who found out what happened; The Watergate Girl is the story of the legal team who had to figure out how to prove it. Both stories are equally absorbing: Woodward and Bernstein may have had Deep Throat, but Jill had Nixon’s secret tapes. A few highlights:

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  • The team was very young. Instead of staffing up with seasoned specialists with decades of credentials, as you might expect, Special Prosecutor Archibald Cox “was looking for smart, talented lawyers with good judgment, who were young and vigorous enough to endure crushingly long days and high-stakes pressure.” Though Jill had a track record as a tough and winning trial lawyer at the Department of Justice, she was only still barely thirty. . . a kid.

  • Jill may have been the only female on the legal team, but contrary to what some had thought she was not brought on strictly to interrogate Rose Mary Woods, Nixon’s secretary, woman to woman. She was brought onto the team early, and assigned to Woods only as part of the regular witness rotation order.

  • The team developed a road map for how to proceed with the investigation, but the trajectory was continuously changed by a series of “surprises,” some welcome and some not. One of the worst was the Saturday Night Massacre, when Nixon wanted Cox, Jill’s boss, removed. Both Attorney General Elliot Richardson and Deputy AG William Ruckelshaus refused and were fired on the spot. But Cox was ultimately out after Bork assumed the task. After that, the team knew Nixon could shut them down any second. They kept working furiously, sometimes squirreling away evidence so it wouldn’t be found, other times not knowing from day to day if they were even still officially employed.

  • The best surprise was the discovery of the tapes. No one knew that Nixon had regularly, and secretly, taped Oval Office conversations, but John Dean had suspicions. Only when reluctant witness Alexander Butterfield, Haldeman’s assistant, felt compelled to answer a direct question and testified this was true, was this evidence revealed. The case broke wide open.

  • The team had also been able to subpoena the calendars of the various White House officials involved in the suspected cover-up, including Nixon. By checking the calendars against witness testimony and the tapes, they were able to find out the truth. Haldeman, for example, had testified that Nixon had said  “it would be wrong” to pay off the Watergate burglars for their silence, but the tape of the meeting showed that was a lie. Nixon supported the crime. Game on.

  • Without the tapes, Jill said, they would never have been able to convict Nixon.

 
 

The Perry Mason Moment

Arguably, the most famous moment of the entire impeachment trial was the dramatic exposure of the lie that proved that the missing eighteen-and-a-half minutes of tape were intentionally erased.

The story was that when Nixon’s long-time devoted secretary, Rose Mary Woods, was transcribing the tapes, a telephone call caused her to perform a complicated combination of manoeuvers on a recording machine that included keeping her foot on a pedal while leaning back to answer the phone. This caused an accidental gap.

Woods Demonstrating the “Rose Mary” Stretch

Woods Demonstrating the “Rose Mary” Stretch

Jill was suspicious about how that could physically happen, pressing a combative Woods during questioning to the point where she nearly incriminated the president right on the stand, but not quite. Jill was convinced Woods had been thrown under the bus by Nixon to cover up his own role in erasing the tapes. But how to prove it?  

In a brave and audacious move, Jill suggested they adjourn to Woods’s White House office, where Woods could demonstrate the actions she claimed had happened.

By performing what came to be called “The Rose Mary Stretch,” her foot came off the pedal, a moment memorialized in the famous photo. The lie was proved as Woods was caught in the act. As Jill put it, “it was the powerfully dramatic moment that is commonplace in trials on TV, but almost never happens in real courtrooms.”

It was the beginning of the end for Nixon.

 
 

The Hamster Wheel of History

As anyone who follows Jill on MSNBC knows, she has been very effective in pointing out the parallels between Richard Nixon and Donald Trump over the past three years, in an effort to help us better understand what is going on today and what can and should be done about it. She’s often discussed their similar personalities and ultimate impeachments. Our conversation dug in on the details.

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  • Each president referred to their impeachment as “a witch hunt” and “a hoax.”

  • Both presidents had a similarly expansive view of executive privilege. They both refused to honor subpoenas. They both stalled on vital documents. Nixon refused to produce the tapes; Trump to allow either documents or witnesses.

  • Nixon was forced to comply when the court ordered that “executive privilege did not exempt the president from honoring a subpoena. He had to obey the law like everyone else.”

  • Despite that precedent, Trump was able to obstruct. Why? According to Jill, here’s where the parallel breaks down.

    • Nixon, as complicated as he was, still believed in the rule of law.

    • In 1973, the three branches of government operated more clearly as separate and independent checks and balances on the Executive Branch than they do today.

    • It was his own party that confronted Nixon and told him he had to resign. As one of the senators said during that fateful meeting in the White House, “There is a certain amount of immorality that almost all politicians will tolerate, but there is a threshold.” Nixon crossed it and his party turned against him. Today’s Republican-controlled Senate is a very different animal.

 
 

This was one of our best literary salons to date with a great speaker introducing a great book. I hope this recap will inspire you to get the book and relive or hear the story for the first time. You can purchase The Watergate Girl in all formats (paperback, eBook, and audiobook) through regular channels. However, in this shelter-in-place time, we ask you to consider supporting independent bookstores who are struggling. Volumes Books, who has been with Jill’s book tour, ships nationally. Also, BookShop supports all independent bookstores nationwide. Check out more about Jill at her website.

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Poets are Different from You and Me; They Hear Life and Experience it Through Sound

PHOTOGRAPHY BY GEOFF SHELL

This “borrowing” from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s famous quote about the rich kept working its way through my head as I listened to award-winning poet Christina Pugh talk about her work and her process at my recent Literary Salon.  Though his comment was disparaging, mine is meant with all admiration and, as one Salon guest put it, “awe.”

I’d met Christina in 2013 at what we both can only describe as a “celestial” experience at Ragdale, an artist’s retreat I’ve mentioned before in these posts. I’d been tremendously moved hearing her read her gorgeous words, delivered with a voice that invited us into a truly uncommon experience, and wanted to share. When she told me she had a new book out, Perception, we set a Salon date.  However, of the nine Salons I’ve held over the past eight years, only one had featured a poet, and it was a bit of a hard sell to get my avid fiction readers to come out for it. That Salon, featuring the wonderful Parneshia Jones introducing her book Vessel, was a tremendous success for those who attended.  I wanted an expanded audience to drop whatever “perceptions” about poetry might be holding them back and get re-excited about the literary form.

 

“I’m in Love With the Sound of Language”

I asked Christina to provide a frame for the audience to set the scene for her work by talking about Why Poetry? And how she’d come to it. It was at that point I realized why my early classroom attempts had been so miserable and that I’d made the best choice to stick to prose. I don’t have the ear.

“I’ve always heard the inflection of language on a street corner and it seemed natural to me to want to make something out of sound, that wasn’t exactly story telling.” Rather, Christina explained, her “something” was to be “less about story and more about diving deep into a moment and the perception of sound.”

She spoke of her verbal fascination with words and our strong responses to them, as well as her love of the process. “Poetry forces you to write in lines versus paragraphs, to establish a push and pull that uses voice and pauses to direct a reader through a sentence or a phrase.”

To illustrate, she began by sharing “Rotary,” an elegy to the phones we grew up with in this age of touch screens. She then read select other works as she moved to Perception’s more experimental Versa poems, where the pieces have both a back and a front, like a tapestry—one side showing the external face, the other on the flip page, the knots behind.

 

The Roaring Crowd

I was wrong about my audience. Never have those who couldn’t make it been so regretful. And, we had the biggest crowd yet, the best post-reading discussion. As one of the guests said, “we just want more.” As you will, too, when you listen to these videos.

I will be posting additional videos on my website and in my Facebook author page. More is just a click away. Perception, and all of Christina’s four books of poetry, are available on Amazon. As you read, imagine Christina’s voice and just…hear the incredible sound of language.

 

Perception

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Perception consists of short poems rooted in observed objects. Using metaphoric description as well as association, the poems inhabit the objects or entities that they contemplate—ranging from paintings and shop signs to wallpaper and flower species. These poems are seeking to enact a tenor of attention—the power of singular focus—that is too easily lost in our multitasking age.

 
 
Christina Pugh’s Perception transports us, from its opening starburst of phrases, through ravishing particulars. . . .
— Phillis Levin
 
. . . I already find myself returning often to these beautiful, intricate meditations, grateful for what they release, grateful for what they restore.
— Mary Szybist
 

Featured Videos

 

 
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A Cold War Thriller and Syrian Bombing Make for Implausible but True Plot Twists at Literary Salon

Rita introducing Ellis Goodman at her ninth literary salon

Rita introducing Ellis Goodman at her ninth literary salon

I swear I didn’t plan it, but there was a lot of irony and surprise going around recently at my ninth Literary Salon. The featured author, Ellis Goodman, here to read from his new novel, The Keller Papers, brought more than a fascinating story both on the page and behind the scenes. He also unknowingly teed up the world event to happen later that evening, as well as resurfaced a bit of history between him and me.

The Backstory

More than a few years ago, when he was CEO of Barton Brands, my public relations agency at the time, Dragonette Inc, pitched Ellis for the Corona beer account. We had just left Edelman, so we were a young agency with a short list of smaller clients—Corona would have been a big coup. We jumped through hoops to demonstrate spectacular results for our modest clients with their tiny budgets, assuming he would, of course, easily extrapolate—“Wow! If they can get all this for only that, imagine what they could do for my big-budget beer!” Alas, his only words were, “It does seem that you have a lot of clients without much money . . . ” (I remember it verbatim). We were so charmed by his polite British accent and gracious manners that it took a while to realize we’d been rebuffed . . . and that he’d left the room.

Déjà Without the Vu

The next time I saw Ellis, he was hosting the premiere of Mulberry Child, a film he’d executive produced based on the book of my great friend Jennifer Kwong (Chinese aka Jian Ping). He didn’t remember me from Adam (which, I have to say, is rare when you have red hair, so I was a bit miffed). Cue the revenge scenario, said my inner storyteller. Let me count the ways I could reveal our previous encounter . . . Too contrived, I thought. It would never sell. So I behaved and introduced myself as Jennifer’s friend, a writer, only to learn that he had finished a novel himself—Bear Any Burden—and was in the painful throes of getting it noticed. The coincidental revenge plot crumbled before me. After all, now we were compadres. I had to love him, right?

I let the cat out of the bag at the launch party for The Keller Papers … he did a little head shake as if trying to remember our past association and hoping it wasn’t “Did I fire her?” My memory jog didn’t work either. Nonetheless, we were now both in the same profession. His novel sounded intriguing, and I invited him to be featured in one of the Literary Salons I hold periodically in my home to introduce new books to avid readers. (Or, as Ellis put it, “the most interesting group, so knowledgeable and committed to the written word.”)

Ellis Goodman & Rita Dragonette

Ellis Goodman & Rita Dragonette

The Author

So, what do you call a man who started his career as an accountant, rose to lead an international beverage company, invested in Broadway musicals and movies great and small, and now follows in the Cold War thriller path of John le Carré? Renaissance Man seemed cliché. Did I mention he is British?  I introduced him as James Bond, of course.

Ellis set the scene for his story by describing how, when his cousin traced his family tree back through many wars to Poland in the 1770s, he knew he had a story, then taught himself how to write it. He went on to combine his personal history with his eclectic background. For example, one of his main characters, Sir Alex Campbell, heads a UK-based international spirits company which gives him cover to travel behind the Iron Curtain to occasionally do “little things” for MI6, while tapping his far-flung relatives to aid in implementation here and there.

The Setup

Our  always great, post-reading discussion focused on history repeating itself as his story unwound from the Nazis to the Stasi—similar arrogance, intractable feudal and religious alliances and, above all, dangerous nationalism. I mentioned that several years ago, le Carré had lamented the fact that the “fall” of the Soviet Union and the end of the Cold War had made it challenging to come up with equally compelling plots. However, he has a new novel ready for release this September—George Smiley back to deal with a similar world situation. Being in the zeitgeist is good for writers, not so much for the rest of us, we agreed as we discussed how hard it is for things to change and history to progress.

The Explosive, Surprise Ending

Literary Salon attendees

Literary Salon attendees

Later, as the last two guests and I were polishing off the end of the cheese tray, I received an alarming email from a friend—something right out of a novel. I read it out loud: “Hope this isn’t the end of the world. I would miss not seeing you again.” We quickly turned on the television—it was shockingly unreal and yet familiar—visions of smoke and destruction. Could this really be happening or was it a movie? Was it good or bad? Now, f***ing what?

Then we realized, at the precise moment we’d been bemoaning the “hamster wheel” of the unlearned lessons of history, the US had been in fact doing it all again by bombing Syria. The story had written itself.

And yet, I’m certain, if I put this scene in a novel, it would be edited out as too implausible. No one would buy it.

A Tale Of Two Writer's Conferences

I just returned from two back-to-back conferences and am reeling a bit from what I’ve seen as I begin to peddle my novel after quietly writing it for the past 12 years.

Association of Writers and Writing Programs—I Am Not Throwing Away My Shot

I’ve been to the formidable AWP Conference several times in the past, but always hung to the sides, picking up what craft or marketing information I could, but not feeling quite “legitimate” without a finished manuscript. I’d found my first AWP pretty frosty. Twice, someone I’d sat next to at a lecture responded to my “hello” with a quick look at my name tag and, apparently seeing nothing useful, turned full-body to the evidently more credentialed person on their other side. I’d been taken aback at such a PR faux pas. How do they know I won’t be the next Donna Tartt? So, this is the world we’re in, I thought, as I was repeatedly mowed down again and again until I figured out a system—leave the current session before the Q&A and you’d have a prayer at being able to get into the next, even though you’d probably still end up sitting on the floor.

It was at bit warmer this time. I knew a few people: the poet Parneshia Jones, who I’d met at Ragdale and author Paul Lisicky, who’d led a workshop I’d taken at the Juniper Summer Writing Institute a few years back.  I felt like a celebrity at Four Way Books when they recognized my name as the host of a salon this fall for Christina Pugh to introduce her new book, Perception. When I somehow qualified for a free copy of Elizabeth Strout’s new book I thought I was in like Flynn.

Still, there were 550 events. And, 12,000 writers vying for attention, queuing up like mad for every agent/publisher, asking multi-part “questions” of speakers hoping they’d register as so brilliant that surely they’d be begged for their manuscripts.  It was an ambitious and aggressive space, and everyone seemed to take that for granted.   The attendees were fashion funky, pretty evenly gender split, and primarily in, or on the cusp of either end of their third decade. Many were lost the first day, but more sure footed by the second as they sprinted around the massive Washington DC Convention Center in the ten minutes between crowded sessions, hoping to score a quick granola bar in one of the long concession lines. A choice for sustenance did inevitably mean you’d end up sitting on the floor.

Speakers were universally provocative and political—the daunting reality of the Trump-drenched atmosphere. We all wanted to throw our arms around Jennifer Egan who confessed she’d been right at the end of the final draft of her current novel on Inauguration Day, then stymied with depression. I mean, we actually all wanted to BE her, with her Pulitzer-winning Goon Squad talent, but would settle for offering comfort. Maybe she’d be grateful and recommend our manuscript?

The pace was insane and it was easy to feel out of it. So many events were happening that sounded off book—even a massive protest march, they said. You apparently had to be in the “know” to be aware of all that was going on. Just before a panel on Susan Sontag which featured incredible speakers but no overall “point,” I dipped into a “Over 50” session filled with festive grey hair, tipped with what Katherine Hepburn would have called “colors not found in nature”—purple, green and teal. They were earnest and eager, desperate for reassurance. I backed out early, sympathetic but unable--or unwilling--to self identify.

I left with a raging cold, a legacy of freezing conference rooms and a missed turn back to my hotel where I circled the block three times, teary from the wind, too cold to take off my gloves to work Google maps.

San Miguel Writer’s Conference—I’m Not Going to Give Up My Seat

After a quick strep test I was off to the Writer’s Conference in beautiful San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, which was warmer in every sense of the word. Here, age-wise I was firmly in the middle of the primarily female and very friendly and curious audience--a mix of readers and writers, most working on memoir. It moved slower. No one would think of sitting on the floor, but some were enjoying lolling about on blankets and pillows in the sun on the beautiful grounds of the Hotel Real de Minas. The wardrobe was Mexican fiesta with bright colors, beach hats and the essential San Miguel sandals so you wouldn’t break an ankle on the cobblestones. Food was important—and everywhere--and I may never eat guacamole and taco chips again (something I never thought I’d say). 

Mary Karr with Rita Dragonette

Mary Karr with Rita Dragonette

The speakers were there to be entertaining, with only occasional smart-ass remarks about Trump. Memoirist Mary Karr was side splitting. Her definition of narcissism was her mother staggering out of a bar in her stiletto’s looking up at the moon and saying “I have an earring like that.” Karr told a story about the Chanel-clad agent who’d encouraged her first memoir, The Liar’s Club, and I realized I’d seen the agent on an AWP panel earlier in the week. She’d shared a funny story about, as a cub, having to cut 100 pages out of a Simone De Beauvoir book. Her client roster is platinum but I wondered, fleetingly, if she’d give my debut novel a chance if I let her know it includes a running gag about Simone. Too much?

I held my coughing and nose blowing to after each of Billy Collins’ very funny and deceptively simple poems. By David Ebershoff’s lecture I was able to hear the fascinating 20-year journey from idea to book to movie of The Danish Girl on a single cough drop. The editor I pitched (despite what was on her web site) was not interested in fiction.  Had I considered my story as a memoir? she asked, bringing up a dilemma I’d settled long ago.

There was a curious insistence on etiquette. There were “rules” about noise (frequent shouts of “Sound” or “Volume”), timing ( rhythmic clapping would begin on the stroke of the start time and accelerate until the speaker began), and the avoidance of cardinal sins (standing or sitting in another person’s sight line, attempting to save a seat too long or, god forbid, cutting in line). Again, hard to self identify, particularly after the athletic techniques I’d just employed to get into AWP sessions.

In all, I was motivated but sick, and longed to settle in to a blanket in the back of the lecture hall, and listen with my eyes closed. I was pretty sure at the AWP I’d have been walked over, if not on. At San Miguel they would have covered me, but gone on to turn out the lights and lock the door.

What I learned

Despite challenging "cultures," there was information galore at both conferences. I learned I need a great idea (check—at least in my own mind), excellent craft (which is “assumed” by an MFA--is my Certificate from the University of Chicago close enough for a check?), to be a good literary citizen (those salons I hold, yeah!..check), and an ability to market (multiple checks).  How does it add up? Do my 30 years in marketing trump (sorry, there’s just no other word) the fact that I have the wrong degree?

Above all I wonder about velocity. The pace to succeed is thunderous, the need to capture attention instantaneous. Marketing and profile-wise I'm pretty certain I can pull this off. But I worry if there will be patience for the slow-build development of my novel’s teenage protagonist into her political dilemma. Should I change it now or wait until the inevitable rewrites? In other words, do I pull it off the market to remodel the kitchen, or trust that a buyer will either love it as is or see its potential? My inner perfectionist gnaws. Maybe I’ll decide by the time this cough is absolutely gone…

Getting my shot is going to be tough indeed. However, these conference experiences have convinced me more than ever that I do want my seat at the table. At this stage of the game, I’ll be happy to sit anywhere, even on the floor—as long as there are pillows.