The unsecured server in Hillary’s basement was a ticking time bomb. Classified documents flowing through a private system – a potential Espionage Act violation, and possibly jail time. It was a disaster unfolding, and the weight of it felt immense.
I’d worked with her directly, as her Secretary of State, and knew her tendencies. Warnings were issued, advice given, yet the situation spiraled. Whispers turned to demands for her to withdraw from the race, fueled by relentless questions about the server and the emails it contained.
She repeatedly denied sending or receiving classified information, even under subpoena. Her approval ratings plummeted, though the thought of Trump winning still seemed impossible. After all, he hadn’t even released his tax returns – a standard we’d all adhered to.
To counter the mounting crisis, a controversial decision was made. The DNC funded the creation of the “Steele dossier,” a murky collection of information disguised as a legal expense. The FEC offered only a minor reprimand, a stark contrast to the legal battles facing others.
Then came the audacious claim: Trump was colluding with Russia. It felt like a desperate gamble, a narrative built on shaky ground. Intelligence officials privately dismissed it, yet the media seized upon it, awarding a Pulitzer Prize to the New York Times for their coverage.
The unthinkable happened. Trump won. The shock was profound, a collective disbelief that reverberated through the halls of power. Suddenly, the focus shifted: now what?
Days before leaving office, a plan was initiated – “Crossfire Hurricane,” a codename born from a love of the Rolling Stones. The goal was to investigate the fabricated Trump-Russia collusion, hoping to limit his presidency to a single term. It consumed his time, energy, and the nation’s attention.
For four years, Hillary relentlessly maintained that the election was stolen, that she was the rightful winner. The irony was staggering: she, the architect of the collusion narrative, was now claiming the election was illegitimate. Yet, she faced no accusations of being an “election denier.”
The disconnect between reality and perception was jarring. Even after a Homeland Security official testified that the Russians failed to alter a single vote, a YouGov poll revealed that two-thirds of Democrats believed Russia had manipulated the election. The narrative had taken hold, fueled by animosity and disbelief.
Then, he announced his intention to run again. After two impeachments and a loss to a candidate who barely campaigned, the audacity was breathtaking. A strategy was devised: prosecute him, force him to run as a convicted felon. And still, he won.
The outcome felt inevitable, a culmination of choices and consequences. A warning about Kamala Harris went unheeded, and the story continued to unfold, leaving a lasting mark on the political landscape.
Despite everything, life moved forward. Family was well, and a sense of normalcy began to emerge, even amidst the chaos.
