Buzz Patterson@BuzzPatterson
HILLARY & CHELSEA: SOME MORE
I hope y’all aren’t tired of me yelling about the Clintons, because I’m on a roll!🤣
In early January 1997, the Clintons and entourage (including me) were going to St. Thomas, the Virgin Islands, for a presidential vacation. (This is the infamous trip where Bill and Hill were filmed ‘dancing on the beach’). The trip had been planned for weeks and most of the logistics were set. But as soon as Air Force One touched down in St. Thomas, I knew something was amiss.
Mrs. Clinton was very visibly upset. She went off on her immediate staff essentially screwing herself into the top of the aircraft. Loud, four-letter words were bouncing around the airplane like popcorn popping. I approached to get involved and help. Always a dicey proposition with Hillary. Into the breach I went once more. Unarmed and unafraid. 😎
The staff quickly learned that Chelsea, a senior in high school, had left her backpack full of text books in the hotel room in Hilton Head, South Carolina. The Clintons had been attending their annual Renaissance Weekend, a gathering of Democrat government, business, media, and academic leaders. But it wasn’t Chelsea’s fault, of course, because, according to Hillary, it was everybody’s fault EXCEPT for Chelsea. Hillary was specifically hell bent on blaming the president’s valets. Which was sad and unfair.
The president is served by career Navy enlisted men as valets. These valets, Filipino by birth, have a long, proud tradition of serving the first family in the White House going back at least to 1909. In my experience, they were loyal, devoted, impeccable employees. They worked diligently to attend to every detail—no matter how small. But, right now, Hillary had them squarely in her gunsights.
It seemed to me amazing that the idea of holding Chelsea responsible—Chelsea would soon be a freshman at Stanford—never crossed Hillary’s mind.
Kelly Craighead, Hillary’s personal aide, asked me to find a way to get the books down to St. Thomas tout de suite. Chelsea had finals approaching and “needed to study.” We sprang into Hillary crisis mode.
I called back to Hilton Head, catching my fellow military aide before she caught her return flight to D.C. She sounded the alarm, gathered remaining White House staffers, and scurried to find the backpack. Once the backpack was safely in hand, we dispatched one of the president’s valets via a commercial airliner to deliver the goods. He landed and brought them directly to the home the Clintons where staying in. The books were on Chelsea’s bedside table before she woke up.
Just another day in the Clinton White House—the quick assignment of blame, and a relatively minor issue mushrooming quickly out of control.
Just another day living with Hillary Clinton.
