Decision Points

outcome would turn on four states: Iowa, New Mexico, Nevada, and Ohio. Ken Mehlman , my brilliant campaign manager who had organized a historic effort to turn out the vote, was confident we had won all four states. Each had been called in our favor by at least one news network. But after the fiasco of 2000, no network wanted to be the first to put me over the top.
    The focus was Ohio, with its 20 electoral votes. I held a solid lead of more than 120,000 votes. The clock struck midnight, one o’clock, two o’clock. At around 2:45, I took a phone call from Tony Blair . He told me he had gone to bed in London thinking I had lost and was prepared to deal with President Kerry. “Not only did you win, George,” he said, “you got more votes than any president in history.”
    “If only the Kerry campaign would recognize that,” I replied. “I haven’t been up this late since college!”
    At around four o’clock, we started hearing rumors that Kerry and Edwards planned to file a lawsuit contesting the vote in Ohio. In another replay of 2000, several advisers urged me to declare victory even though the networks hadn’t called the race and my opponent had not conceded. Four years earlier, it was Jeb who wisely advised me against giving my speech in Austin. This time it was Laura. “George, you can’t go out there,” she said. “Wait until you’ve been declared the winner.”

    In the White House residence on Election Night, 2004, waiting for the decision.
White House/Eric Draper
    At around the same time, Dan Bartlett picked up a useful piece of intelligence. Nicolle Wallace , my campaign’s communications director, had connected Dan with Kerry aide Mike McCurry . McCurry told him the senator would make the right decision if we gave him time. “Don’t press the guy,” Dan advised.
    Once again, a disappointed crowd waited for a candidate who never arrived. I so wanted to give my supporters the victory party we had been denied in 2000. But it wasn’t to be. Just after 5:00 a.m., I sent Andy Card in my place. “President Bush decided to give Senator Kerry the respect of more time to reflect on the results of this election,” he said. “We are convinced that President Bush has won reelection with at least 286 electoral votes.”

    At 11:02 the next morning, my personal assistant, Ashley Kavanaugh , opened the door to the Oval Office. “Mr. President,” she said, “I have Senator Kerry on the line.”
    John was gracious. I told him he was a worthy opponent who had run a spirited campaign. I called Laura and hugged the small group of senior aides gathered in the Oval Office. I walked down the hallway to Dick’s office, where I gave him a hearty handshake. Dick isn’t really the hugging type.
    Eventually I reached Mother and Dad on the phone. After staying up most of the night, they had slipped out of the White House early that morning and flown back to Houston without knowing the results. “Congratulations, son,” Dad said. He said it more with relief than joy. We hadn’t talked about it, but 2000 was not the only election that had been on our minds. We both remembered the pain of 1992. I could tell he was very happy I would not have to go through what he had.
    After its bleak start, election night 2004 had turned into a big victory. I became the first president to win a majority of the popular vote since Dad in 1988. As in 2002, Republicans gained ground in both the House and Senate.
    The day after Kerry conceded, I held a morning press conference. One of the reporters asked if I felt “more free.”
    I thought about the ambitious agenda I had outlined over the past year. “Let me put it to you this way,” I said. “I earned capital in the campaign, political capital, and now I intend to spend it.”

    For as long as I can remember, Social Security has been the third rail of American politics. Grab ahold of it, and you’re toast.
    In 2005, I did more than touch the third rail. I hugged it. I did so for one reason: It is unfair to make a generation of young people pay into a system that is going broke.
    Created by Franklin Roosevelt in 1935, Social Security is a pay-as-you-go system. The checks collected by retirees are financed by payroll taxes paid by today’s workers. The system worked fine when there were forty workers for every beneficiary, as there were in 1935. But over time, demographics changed. Life expectancy rose. The birthrate fell. As a result, by 2005 there were only three workers