Decision Points

political pioneer. She had a large following among national Democrats and, many believed, a chance to be president or vice president someday.
    Everyone said the governor was popular, but Karl and I didn’t think she had actually accomplished much. Karl told me his analysis showed that many Texans—even some Democrats—would be open to a candidate with a serious program to improve the state. That was exactly what I had in mind.
    In a spring 1993 special election, Governor Richards placed a school funding measure on the ballot. Derisively dubbed “Robin Hood,” her plan redistributed money from rich districts to poor ones. The voters defeated it by a healthy margin. As Laura and I watched election returns that night, we listened to an interview by Ann Richards. She was frustrated by thedefeat of the school funding measure and said sarcastically, “We are all, boy, eagerly awaiting any suggestions and ideas that are realistic.”
    I turned to Laura and said, “I have a suggestion. I might run for governor.” She looked at me like I was crazy. “Are you joking?” she asked. I told her I was serious. “But we have such a great life,” she said. “You’re right,” I replied. We were very comfortable in Dallas. I loved my job with the Rangers. Our girls were thriving. Yet I had the political bug again, and we both knew it.

    When I brought up the governor’s race, I always heard the same thing: “Ann Richards sure is popular.” I asked some of Dad’s former political strategists for advice. They politely suggested that I wait a few years. When I made up my mind that I was running, Mother’s response was to the point: “George,” she said, “you can’t win.”
    The good news was that the Republican field was wide open. Nobody wanted to challenge Richards, so I could immediately turn my attention to the general election. I took a methodical approach, laying out a specific, optimistic vision for the state. I focused on four policy issues: education, juvenile justice, welfare reform, and tort reform.
    We assembled a skilled and able campaign team. **** I made two particularly important hires. First was Joe Allbaugh , an imposing six-foot-four man with a flattop and the bearing of a drill sergeant, who had served as chief of staff to Oklahoma Governor Henry Bellmon . I brought Joe in to run the campaign, and he did a superb job of managing the organization.
    We also hired a new communications director, Karen Hughes . I had first met Karen at the state party convention in 1990. “I will be briefing you on your duties,” she said crisply. She then delivered my marching orders. There was no doubt this woman was in charge. When she told me her father was a two-star general, it made perfect sense.

    With Karen Hughes, my indispensable counselor from Texas.
Wite House/Paul Morse
    I stayed in touch with Karen after the convention. She had a warm, outgoing personality and a great laugh. As a former TV correspondent, she knew the media and how to turn a phrase. It was a good sign when she came to hear my announcement speech in the fall of 1993. She was easy to spot because her son Robert was sitting on her shoulders. Karen was my kind of person—one who put family first. The day she signed on with the campaign was one of the best of my political career.
    As my campaign started to generate excitement, the national news media got interested. Reporters knew my hothead reputation, and there was a running discussion about when I would finally explode. Ann Richards did her best to set me off. She called me “some jerk” and “shrub,” but I refused to spark. Most people failed to understand that there was a big difference between Dad’s campaigns and mine. As the son of the candidate, I would get emotional and defend George Bush at all costs. As the candidate myself, I understood that I had to be measured and disciplined. Voters don’t want a leader who flails in anger and coarsens the tone of the debate. The best rebuttal to the barbs was to win the election.
    In mid-October, Ann Richards and I met for our one televised debate. I had studied the briefing books and practiced during mock debates. A week before the big night, I imposed an advice blackout. I had witnessed some of Dad’s debate preps. I knew the candidate could easily get overwhelmed with last-minute suggestions. My favorite old chestnut was “Just be yourself.” No kidding. I ordered that all debate advice be filtered through Karen. If she