Decision Points

personnel choice of my public life: Whom to send to Florida to ensure that our lead was protected?
    There was no time to develop a list or conduct interviews. Don suggested James Baker . Baker was the perfect choice—a statesman, a savvy lawyer, and a magnet for talented people. I called Jim and asked if he would take on the mission. Shortly thereafter, he was bound for Tallahassee.
    Laura and I were mentally and physically worn out. We had poured every ounce of our energy into the race. Once it became clear we were in for a lengthy legal process, we spent most of our time decompressing at our ranch in Crawford.
    I first saw Prairie Chapel Ranch in February 1998. I had always wanted a place to call my own—a refuge from the busy life—as Dad had in Kennebunkport. When I sold my stake in the Rangers, Laura and I had money to make a purchase.
    I was hooked the moment I saw Benny Engelbrecht ’s 1,583-acre place in McLennan County, almost exactly halfway between Austin and Dallas. The ranch was a combination of flat country suited for cattle grazing and rugged canyons that drained into the middle fork of the Bosque River and Rainey Creek. The view of the limestone cliffs from the bottom of the ninety-foot canyons was stunning. So were the trees—huge native pecans, live oaks, cedar elms, burr oaks, and bois d’arc trees with their green fruits. In all, the place had over a dozen varieties of hardwoods, a rarity for Central Texas.
    To win over Laura, I promised to build a home and new roads to access the most scenic parts of the ranch. She found a young architect from the University of Texas named David Heymann , who designed a comfortable one-story house with large windows, each offering a unique view of our property. He utilized geothermal heat and recycled water tominimize the impact on the environment. Most of the construction took place during 2000. Surviving a presidential campaign and a homebuilding project in the same year is the mark of one strong marriage—and a tribute to the patience and skill of Laura Bush.

    Our ranch house in Crawford.
White House/Susan Sterner
    The ranch was the perfect place to ride out the post-election storm. I checked in regularly with Jim Baker to get updates and provide strategic direction. I decided early on that I would avoid the endless, breathless TV coverage. Instead I took long runs that gave me a chance to think about the future, burned off nervous energy by clearing cedar trees that guzzled water needed by the native hardwoods, and went for hikes by the creek with Laura. If I became president, I wanted to be energized and ready for the transition.
    There were some moments of high drama along the way. On December 8, one month and one day after the election, Laura and I were back in Austin. That afternoon, the Florida Supreme Court was scheduled to hand down a decision that Jim Baker was confident would make my victory official.
    Laura and I invited our good friends Ben and Julie Crenshaw to watch the announcement. Ben is one of the most accomplished golfers of his era, and one of the most likeable people in professional sports. For the past few weeks, Gentle Ben had joined crowds protesting outside the Governor’s Mansion. Some were Gore supporters, but many backed me. One of Ben and Julie’s three young daughters carried a poster emblazoned with the words “Sore-Loserman,” a play on the Gore-Lieberman ticket. Ben had a homemade pink sign that read “Florida, No More Mulligans.”
    Ben, Julie, Laura, and I gathered in the living room to await the ruling. I broke my no-TV rule in the hope that I could experience victory in real time. Around three o’clock, the court spokesman walked to the lectern. I prepared to embrace Laura. Then he announced that the court, by a 4–3 vote, had ruled for Gore. The decision mandated a statewide manual recount, yet another mulligan.
    Shortly thereafter, Jim Baker called to ask if I wanted to appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court. He and Ted Olson , an outstanding lawyer Jim had recruited, felt we had a strong case. They explained that appealing the decision was a risky move. The U.S. Supreme Court might not agree tohear the case, or they could rule against us. I told Jim to make the appeal. I was prepared to accept my fate. The country needed closure, one way or the other.
    On December 12, thirty-five days after the election, Laura and I were lying in bed when Karl called and insisted that we turn on the TV. I listened intently as