Chapter Two
JOHN MADE HIS way to the elevators and up to the fifth floor. As he walked the hallway to the AG’s office, he paused to look at the portraits of the former attorneys general who had presided here. He was especially fond of the Aaron A. Shikler painting of Robert Kennedy, captured with a solemn and pensive expression, as if he had some premonition of the assassination to come.
It pleased John to realize he was part of this history now. One day his own image might hang in that corridor, right after the portrait of his boss. He passed through the door into the attorney general’s suite. His assistant, Andrea Covington, was there and eager to see him.
“Good morning, John.” She seemed buoyant. “How was the drive down this morning?”
“Good morning, Andrea. Everything was fine, except for the whackos across the street.”
“You mean the protesters? I saw them. Don’t worry. They’ll be gone shortly.”
“Good. I hope you’re right.”
“They were on the sidewalk in front of the building when I came in,” she said. “So we asked the police to move them to the other side of Constitution.”
John nodded his approval, then he turned his focus to more urgent matters. He was there to meet with the dignitaries: Vice President Angela Baxter-Brown, along with Chief Justice Isaiah Williams, and John’s boss and mentor, Attorney General Alton Stamper. They would take a few minutes to meet and greet before going downstairs together. It was apparent that pomp and circumstance was to be the order of the day. Nothing could have pleased John more.
Andrea was elegantly dressed, as always, and John always noticed. Her brown and white St. John knit suit accentuated her shapely figure, shoulder-length blond hair, gold appointments, and red soled Christian Louboutin shoes. He could sense her pride at standing with the newly appointed head of the Diversity and Tolerance Enforcement Division.
Despite his efforts to appear modest about the new appointment, John had made no secret of his delight, or his ambitions. He believed this was his destiny, and he knew the promotion to assistant AG was just the first giant step on his way up. There would be many more.
The challenge that would become his today was enormous, but he was completely committed to the mission. He was no hypocrite. He was a true believer in the mission and had been pushing for a new era of transformative justice for a decade or more—at least since his first year at Princeton. He had shown that he could be relentless when he knew what he wanted. He had come a long way from the southern Colorado town where he grew up.
Thoughts of his boyhood home confused him. Some men remembered their hometown with fondness, others with loathing. The only emotion John Knox Smith could muster was ambivalence. Washington, D.C. fit him in a way Colorado Springs couldn’t. The memories of those days seldom made it out of the mental iron safe John kept them in. Colorado wasn’t a different state to him; it was a different planet.
An only child of Margaret and Chester Smith, John grew up in a warm and caring home. He thought of his father, a fine, upstanding man. Not a high achiever or ambitious person, Chester still set an example of self-discipline. He took his family to Cottonwood Church each week, but faith never became the center of the family. They went to church because most the people in their neighborhood did. It was the way respectable Colorado folk acted.
Those Sundays had an impact on John, but not in the way his parents expected. The hours spent in Sunday school and worship services inoculated him against the misguided pablum served up every Sunday. He thought of those days as a good shot of penicillin that kept him from contracting any faith-related diseases. By college, John loved his mind more than any soul he might possess. Intellect, not myth, was the spirit that moved him to his true calling.
His intellect, coupled with discipline and ambition, had brought him to this special day, and he was only thirty-three. There were those who thought John too young for such an important promotion and responsibility. He didn’t care what others thought.
His promotion had not happened by accident. Everything fell into place because he had a plan—a plan he worked daily. Now, his superiors were handing him an opportunity to change history.
He thought of the protestors across the street—powerless, pathetic people marching outside could only offer a dramatic contrast with the reception he was about to receive. Let them protest: He was about to stand on the same platform as the vice president of the United States, chief justice of the United States, and U.S. attorney general. All eyes would be directed at him, not the handful of malcontents with handmade placards.
Attorney General Alton Stamper’s aide congratulated John on his promotion, then ushered him into the AG’s office suite. For John, it was like walking into the Holy of Holies. His dad would have said, “Boy, you’re in high cotton now.” High cotton indeed.
BY THE TIME John and the other officials made their way downstairs, the Great Hall was alive with excitement and anticipation. The atmosphere was electric, and Justice Department employees and Washington dignitaries of all stripes packed the hall. It was standing room only. Secret Service and FBI agents were scattered throughout the crowd, whispering into their sleeves and listening to the voices in their earpieces.
John Knox Smith, the assistant attorney general designate, entered the room and mounted the stage with three of the most powerful people in the world. The fanfare was sensational. It was everything he hoped it would be. John smiled humbly and stood to the side, giving the others preeminence in position on the stage.
Some who had come to observe the ceremony were guests of the administration—men and women who had contributed in one way or another to this landmark occasion. Seated in the front row were Senators Heywood and Borden, who had carried forward the legislation for the creation of DTED. There were four or five congressmen sitting together a few rows back; these were the heroes who had pushed the measure through the House of Representatives. They sat beside a group of White House staffers and several members of the Senate Judiciary Committee.
Others seated in places of honor were the real troops who fought trench warfare in communities across America—warriors like Ben Braden of the ACLU and Nabil Medina of Americans for the Separation of Politics and Religion, along with a group of federal judges and a scattering of academics and liberal clerics. Each had played a part in his ascendancy, and John was pleased to see their faces in the crowd.
Representatives of the Human Rights Campaign were there as well, along with members of the executive committees of three of the largest mainline denominations, and a well-known Catholic college president from the West Coast who had fought what he called “the forces of darkness” in his own church to see these events come to fruition.
John continued to scan the crowd. There were others there, others he would rather not see. He had no idea why they would attend a ceremony that glorified their staunchest opponent. The presence of pastors from two of the largest Protestant churches stunned John. To make matters worse, there was Dr. Jim Stockman, head of Christian Family Forum, sitting in an aisle seat and leaning to the side to improve his view. Next to him sat Larry Jordan, the bulldog head of the Alliance’s Washington office—the Christian legal alliance that seemed to oppose all John cared for. Both men had fought unceasingly against the federal initiatives John championed and had done so for two years. The sight of the men made every muscle in John’s body tense and his stomach turn. He motioned for Andrea to approach then whispered, “How did they get in here?”
Andrea glanced over her shoulder. “Stockman and Jordan? We couldn’t keep them out. They made a formal request and Stamper signed off on it. I think he wants you to get a taste of what is waiting for you.”
“It’ll take more than those two jokers to rattle me.”
Andrea smiled. “I know that.”
John returned his attention to the audience, nodding at friends and occasionally waving. He tried to focus on his supporters, but his eyes kept drifting to Larry Jordan. The man sat as co
mfortably as if he were in an easy chair in his home. He gave no indication of hatred or animosity, but even over the distance that separated them John could sense the man’s determination. That determination was a shard of glass inside John’s shoe.
The Alliance, through its regional office in Washington, had sent witnesses to Capitol Hill to testify in opposition to the legislation founding DTED. As a legal group, they were seldom involved in public policy debates, but somehow they always managed to get involved in what they called “religious liberty” and “free speech” cases. Now that President William Blaine had signed the new law making DTED a fact instead of a concept, the Alliance could do nothing more than arrange for one of their people to be in attendance at John’s swearing-in.
Jordan would go back to his office and write an angry right-wing hit piece on the event then circulate it in one of his famous fundraiser letters sent to all their supporters in “flyover country.” No doubt he would distort what happened here today. A lot of good that will do, you sanctimonious religious snob.
Month after month, for more than two years, the Alliance had sent lawyers, detailed briefs, and written testimony to the House and Senate committees opposing everything John and his supporters were trying to accomplish. They held private meetings with members of Congress explaining why the bill was a disaster for advocates of religious liberty. Because of their constant agitation, a small cadre of legislators fought the Respect for Diversity and Tolerance Act, and they had forced proponents to scrap important parts of the bill.
On the positive side, John caught a glimpse of his friend Matt Branson. Just as promised, he was there and sitting on the front row of the section set apart for DOJ attorneys. He wore a small smile.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Vice President of the United States Angela Baxter-Brown.” A male voice thundered over the loudspeaker pulling John’s attention back to the moment. He stole a glance at Larry Jordan and Jim Stockman. Would they rise, or would their arrogance glue them to their seats? They stood, disappointing John.
The Vice President stepped to the podium and pulled the microphone toward her. The audience broke into applause for the former California Governor and Internet entrepreneur. She motioned for everyone to be seated.
“It was in 1776,” she began, “that our ancestors declared that the pursuit of happiness was the right of all Americans. Less than a century later, President Lincoln spoke of freedom for all Americans. Over fifty years ago, the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke of a dream of equality for all Americans. And three years ago, when he was elected president of the United States, Senator William E. Blaine from Maine, spoke of a dream of acceptance, equality, and inclusion for all Americans.”
She paused to give the crowd a moment to respond with applause. John admired the way the vice president could seize an audience’s attention. She was a consummate speaker.
“Today,” the vice president continued, “we move a step closer to that vision of a unified and compassionate society. Not merely the opportunism and individualism of the founders but a vision of a government, absolutely neutral and removed from all the intolerance of sectarian dogma, and a nation as free as possible from the prejudices associated with bias, intolerance, and religious bigotry.
“We come here today to celebrate the right to hold beliefs of our own choosing, and to repudiate the platitudes of intolerance and hypocrisy that, for an unconscionable length of time, had been driving our world to the brink of self-induced madness. This, my friends, is a new day, and we have come here to applaud the building of a fresh, new, and impenetrable wall of separation between church and state, and to renew the values the First Amendment was meant to ensure.
“I want to say thank you, first of all, to the stalwart members of Congress who fought for, and gained approval for, the anti-bigotry statutes signed into law by President Blaine yesterday in the Rose Garden. As you know, these new laws, so long in the making, call for the immediate creation of a powerful new division in the United States Department of Justice, to be staffed by up to one hundred federal prosecutors and assisted by all the investigative and regulatory agencies of the federal government.”
My division, John thought with pride.
“From this day forward, Americans can be assured that this administration will do all it can to eradicate hate and end the destructiveness that religious-based hate and intolerance have brought upon the people of this nation. And I bring you that message with the blessing of the president.”
Cameras flashed from the press corner and Baxter-Brown paused to allow the media enough time to capture her image.
“I’m honored to be here on this occasion, but I know you didn’t come to hear me. It’s my duty and my distinct pleasure to introduce the chief justice of the United States Supreme Court who will administer the oath of office to John Knox Smith, the first and only choice of the president for this key position.” She turned and motioned to Isaiah Williams. “Mr. Chief Justice.”
The recently confirmed chief justice stood six feet six inches tall and looked the perfect person for his job. He was a man of dignity and obvious authority. His prematurely gray hair and billowing black robe highlighted the eminence of his position and the task at hand. As he approached the microphone, another round of applause echoed through the Great Hall.
The chief justice had assumed his office only a few months earlier, but millions knew the inspiring story of his rise from poverty, to starring as a power forward in college, on to the NBA, to Stanford Law, to a short tenure on the federal bench, and now to the highest judicial office in the land.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “before beginning the swearing-in ceremony, I’d like to pause for a moment to say thank you to all the guests in this Great Hall for coming here today. You’ve all worked long and hard for this moment, and I’m pleased that so many have come out to be part of this celebration.
“But now, without further ado, let’s proceed to the business at hand.” Williams turned and motioned for John to join him. John’s heart doubled its pace.
John Knox Smith stepped to Justice Williams and repeated the oath of office. “I do solemnly swear to uphold the Constitution of the United States of America, and to faithfully perform the duties of the office of assistant attorney general of the United States to the best of my ability.”
Before he finished speaking the words, the audience stood and applauded, and the massive hall reverberated with the sound.
Williams used no Bible during the swearing in. John shared Williams’ view that the old book was a mockery to what they had achieved.
Finished with his assignment, Chief Justice Williams shook John’s hand, and then moved from the microphone to take a seat beside the vice president. As the applause died down, John Knox Smith nodded to the members of his staff seated in the front two rows of the audience, then stepped to the microphone without notes.
“Thank you, Mr. Chief Justice, and thank you all. I’m honored by your show of support and the encouragement you’ve given me. I’m especially grateful to Vice President Baxter-Brown for being here; she has been a tireless fighter for the values we all cherish. I also want to say a special word of thanks to my dear friend, my colleague, and of course, my boss…” He let the crowd enjoy the humor for a moment. “Attorney General Alton Stamper.” Applause followed.
“To paraphrase a former president of the United States who was called upon to serve in a time of healing: Ladies and gentlemen, our long national nightmare is almost over.” John didn’t bother to mention President Gerald Ford’s name, or the fact Ford was talking about Watergate. “Thanks to the wisdom of the Blaine administration, the United States Congress, the American people, and many of you here today, we have finally been given the legal tools to bring organized bigotry and hatred to an end in our lifetime.”
When the crowd applauded, John looked at Larry Jordan and Jim Stockman. Neither man joined in the applause; both sat like statues, revealing nothing of their thoughts or emotions
. No matter how placid they pretended to be, John guessed they were seething—and he took great satisfaction in that.
“Not long ago a hero gave his life for justice and equality. Deputy United States Marshal Ronnie Lee Jefferson was killed by a gunshot to the head while attempting to make entrance into a pastor’s study to deliver a search warrant and remove illicit materials and weapons. He and his fellow marshals had been warned by an informant that the pastor was armed and dangerous.”
John left out much of the material Andrea had discovered about the event. He saw no need to mention that the informant proved to be an unbalanced man angry at the church for some minor offense, or that no hate materials were found anywhere in the church. Ronnie Lee Jefferson had died for a psychotic’s lie. That didn’t matter. No one, let alone a pastor, should be pointing a deadly weapon at a law enforcement officer.
“Ronnie Lee Jefferson left behind a beautiful wife and two small children. You’ve seen the news reports and saw their grief on television. Jefferson was a decorated veteran and was rightly buried at Arlington National Cemetery with full military honors. This genuine hero came from poor southern roots but through hard work made something of himself—something about which his father could feel proud. Ronnie served two tours with the marines in the Middle East and earned the rank of staff sergeant. After serving his country in the military he continued to serve our great land by joining the Marshal Service. Just days ago, his life ended at the hands of a lunatic clergyman.
“Why have I chosen to work in the Department of Justice? Because of men and women like Ronnie Lee Jefferson, who risk their lives to make us safe and to fight evil. I can think of no better career than serving the public by seeking justice for everyone. Justice and equality are our rights in this country—no one has a right to take them away—no individual, no ministry, no church, no organization.
“It is nearly impossible to imagine the harm that has been done to this country, and to the world, under the banner of faith-based bigotry and intolerance. It is impossible to imagine because it is so vast and is part of such an ancient history of oppression and injustice. Almost all wars, and certainly most of the terrorism we’ve endured in this country and around the world, spring from hate motivated by religious and ideological intolerance.
“Since it is impossible to acknowledge all the religions and belief systems of the American people, it is our view that any acknowledgment, favor, or accommodation of a particular faith tradition must be seen as an illegal establishment of religion, and in direct conflict with the First Amendment. Furthermore, it is a violation of the statutory laws of the nation. Those who wish to practice their religion openly must understand that respect for diversity, tolerance, and equality is no longer optional. It is mandatory.
“The Bible, which is still considered holy writ in some religious traditions, is, in my view, the most misused, misquoted, and misunderstood book in history. It is the very symbol of judgmentalism, intolerance, and hate, and a book through which great evil has been done. Yet, even that book, with such a history of intemperance, affirms the statement, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers.’ And that is my commitment to all of you today as we begin this new enterprise: to lift high the banner over a new era of peace, tolerance, and equality for all people.
“Those of you privileged to serve in the United States government will have much to be proud of as these new plans take shape. In coming months and years, and with due diligence on our part, you’re going to see the dream of America as ‘One Nation After All’ become a reality and not merely an empty chant. Those of us involved in law enforcement will be the peacemakers. The criminal and civil penalties that Congress has provided we will apply swiftly and surely against the purveyors of hate and intolerance who violate our laws. It is what Ronnie Lee Jefferson lived for; it is what he died for; it is what I pledge to work for.
“So, once again, let me say thank you, Madam Vice-President; thank you Mr. Chief Justice; and thank you Mr. Attorney General, for the confidence and trust you’ve placed in me today. I pledge by every living thing, and all that is dear to my heart, that I will fulfill this office with enthusiasm, and I will not relent until we see true justice enforced across this land. In time, this will yet become a nation of equality, acceptance, and tolerance. Justice will have new meaning, and there will be renewed hope for all who’ve felt left behind.
“Thank you.”
As John Knox Smith stepped away from the microphone, his staff leaped to their feet and surrounded him, bathing him with praise and congratulations. The crowd began to disperse and as it did, John saw Larry talking to Stockman. Even across the hall he could see the disappointment on their faces. For a moment, John’s eyes locked with Larry’s. He expected to see hatred. Instead, he thought he saw pity. It infuriated John.
MATT BRANSON TOOK a deep breath, rose from his chair, and walked to the elevators.