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Franken-Lies-And-the-Lying-Liars-Who-Tell

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so instead of driving back, I played golf. In <strong>the</strong> charity tournament for my mom's nursing<br />

home where I had been billed as <strong>the</strong> celebrity guest. It was a very weird day for golf. Everyone<br />

was <strong>the</strong>re to support <strong>the</strong> nursing home, but we all felt funny enjoying <strong>the</strong> beautiful day<br />

after <strong>the</strong> ugliest day in American history. At <strong>the</strong> closing ceremony, as I thanked <strong>the</strong> nurses<br />

who take care of my mom (she can be difficult), I started to choke up.<br />

Thursday, I got a reservation on an afternoon flight to LaGuardia. Dropped my rental<br />

off at <strong>the</strong> airport Hertz. Just as I got to <strong>the</strong> Northwest ticket counter, <strong>the</strong>y announced that <strong>the</strong><br />

airport was closing down because of a security threat. I did a one-eighty and ran back to <strong>the</strong><br />

Hertz counter, where I was told <strong>the</strong>y were now charging $300 a day for cars. The world was<br />

falling apart, and I was being bilked.<br />

"So, let me get this straight," I said. "Hertz is taking advantage of a horrific tragedy to<br />

jack up <strong>the</strong> price of your cars?" Yes. But <strong>the</strong> woman recognized me as <strong>the</strong> guy who had just<br />

turned in his car rented at <strong>the</strong> pre-terrorist-attack rate. So she gave me <strong>the</strong> same rate, plus a<br />

reasonable drop-off fee in New York. America was pulling toge<strong>the</strong>r.<br />

It was late afternoon. I left <strong>the</strong> Twin Cities, determined to drive straight through, listening<br />

to local radio and NPR. On September 11, 2001, NPR had more foreign correspondents<br />

abroad than any o<strong>the</strong>r network news organization in <strong>the</strong> United States. Americans, so<br />

<strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r networks thought (probably correctly), had lost interest in <strong>the</strong> world.<br />

Listening to twenty straight hours of coverage as I drove alone through <strong>the</strong> heartland,<br />

I was overwhelmed with <strong>the</strong> enormity of what had happened. Friday afternoon, I pulled into a<br />

truck stop in Eastern Pennsylvania to watch President Bush lead a memorial service at <strong>the</strong><br />

National Ca<strong>the</strong>dral. For twelve bucks, I got a room with a bed, a shower, and a TV I showered,<br />

changed into some clean underwear, and, lying in bed, watched <strong>the</strong> memorial and wept.<br />

In times of crisis, people often respond by instinctively doing <strong>the</strong> things <strong>the</strong>y find most comforting.<br />

For many Republicans, <strong>the</strong>n, it is hardly surprising that <strong>the</strong>ir way of coping with <strong>the</strong><br />

horror of 9/11 was to attack Bill Clinton.<br />

Some attacks were more instinctive than o<strong>the</strong>rs. A clearly rattled Orrin Hatch was all<br />

over <strong>the</strong> news that day, blaming Clinton because he had "de-emphasized" <strong>the</strong> military. Hatch<br />

was also <strong>the</strong> first to confirm al Qaeda's involvement by disclosing classified intercepts between<br />

associates of Osama bin Laden about <strong>the</strong> attack. Asked about it on ABC News two<br />

days later, a miffed Donald Rumsfeld said Hatch's leak was <strong>the</strong> kind that "compromises our

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