Conservative blogger and journalist with a passion for politics, sports and family
Anyone who has spent any time on Capitol Hill probably has a story about Teddy Kennedy, the liberal Massachusetts senator who died today from brain cancer. Mine dates to April 2004 when I was working my first reporting job in Washington at Cybercast News Service.
I was tracking down leads for my first big story as a 24-year-old reporter on Capitol Hill when my investigation led to Kennedy. The story involved leaked memos and a high-stakes plan by two Kennedy staffers to delay the confirmation of President George W. Bush’s judicial nominees.
Seeking answers, I trekked to a Senate office building on April 7, 2004, where Kennedy was holding a press conference. After he was done talking about pension relief for small businesses, I confronted Kennedy with a question about the actions of two former aides — Olati Johnson, his judiciary counsel, and Melody Barnes, his chief counsel. (You might recognize Barnes’ name; she’s currently the White House domestic policy adviser.)
What happened next still amazes me to this day. My question flustered Kennedy so much that he was left speechless. He abruptly ended the press conference and was whisked away by staff as Washington Times reporter Charles Hurt chased him down the hallway to ask a follow-up question. Here’s the report I filed:
U.S. Sen. Ted Kennedy (D-Mass.) appeared flustered Wednesday when confronted with allegations that two of his former aides plotted to delay the confirmation of one of President Bush’s judicial nominees solely to influence a high-profile affirmative action case. …
When CNSNews.com asked Kennedy about the allegations Wednesday, the senator stumbled over his words, shook his head and was quickly escorted from the room by his staff.
“No. I’m not gonna, uh, re, uh,” Kennedy muttered.
He also wouldn’t confirm or deny whether Johnson and Barnes were responsible for contents of the memo.
“No. No,” Kennedy said as he scurried for the door.
During the five years I spent covering politics in Washington, I interviewed scores of lawmakers, but no one ever quite compared to the liberal lion of the Senate. The episode taught me a valuable lesson about politicians and their desire to avoid hard questions. It also gave me the motivation to keep confronting members of Congress — both Republicans and Democrats — with tough questions each week when I reported on Congress for Human Events. That’s a trait sorely lacking among many reporters and an even greater number of bloggers.
Although my encounter with Kennedy lasted but a minute, it’s one that I’ll never forget.