delegitimize the coverage of Trump. The group’s signage—“DON’T BELIEVE THE LIBERAL MEDIA!”—was ubiquitous around Cleveland the week of the convention, “LIBERAL MEDIA” written in bloody red. And yet it was the MRC’s president, the longtime conservative activist Brent Bozell, who had been among the most strident essayists in the infamous National Review issue, calling Trump “the greatest charlatan” he’d ever seen in politics.22 Bozell, a Cruz supporter in the primary, also called Trump a “huckster” and a “shameless self-promoter” in one Fox News appearance, concluding, “God help this country if this man were president.”
By the first week of October, the Republican nominee’s lack of support from the establishment media, including its most conservative elements, came into sharp focus. Trump was the first presidential nominee in history to receive no major newspaper endorsements. The traditionally conservative editorial pages of the Dallas Morning News, the Arizona Republic, the Houston Chronicle, and the Cincinnati Enquirer backed Clinton; others, including the Detroit News, the New Hampshire Union-Leader, and the Richmond Times-Dispatch supported the Libertarian Party’s nominee, Gary Johnson. USA Today, which had never endorsed in its history, threw its weight behind Clinton, calling Trump “a serial liar” who was “unfit for the presidency.”23
The poll numbers were no more encouraging. As of early October, Trump still trailed Clinton by 9 points in Pennsylvania, according to the RCP average; by 7 points in Michigan; by 6 points in Wisconsin; and by 3 points in both Florida and North Carolina.
With the writing on the wall, and the post–Election Day repercussions to consider, some of Trump’s frenemies in the GOP began circling the wagons. Cruz finally offered an endorsement in late September. And Ryan, who had gone out of his way never to be photographed with Trump, fearful that it would be used to tarnish his image, invited the nominee to join him at “Fall Fest,” an annual rally in his Wisconsin district on October 8.
There would be a reckoning among Trump’s supporters after he lost in November, and his Republican rivals were acting preemptively to avoid any blame.
Chapter Sixteen
October 2016
“Mother is not going to like this.”
ONE BY ONE, THEY HAD TRICKLED OUT OF THE CONFERENCE ROOM ON the twenty-fifth floor of Trump Tower. It was Friday, October 7, two days before the second presidential debate, and the Republican nominee’s brain trust had spent the morning running a carefully simulated rehearsal session. Chris Christie, playing the role of Hillary Clinton, was seated adjacent to his opponent at a conference table; Reince Priebus, acting as the moderator, was positioned directly across from Trump. The rest of the observers—Hope Hicks, Steve Bannon, Kellyanne Conway, David Bossie, Jared Kushner, and the nominee’s children, among a few others—listened critically, offering occasional feedback.
Hicks had left the room first. The others, more glued to their smartphones than usual, began taking turns excusing themselves. Priebus, Christie, and Trump pushed onward with the debate prep. Finally, looking up and realizing that it was only the three of them remaining, Priebus paused the proceedings. “Okay,” he told Trump. “When the entire staff leaves the room, something’s up.”
Trump hadn’t noticed, either. Now he glanced from side to side. To his right, through the glass-plated doors, he could see the members of his team huddled outside the conference room, arguing in hushed tones. “Yeah,” Trump said, breaking from his practiced debate cadence and barking toward the glass. “What the hell’s going on out there?”
A few agonizing moments passed before the door opened. In walked Hicks, carrying a stapled packet of papers. She handed them silently to Trump. A former Ralph Lauren model known for her sharp looks and confident mien, Hicks was now ashen-faced. Trump eyed the top sheet and began reading. “Uh huh,” he said, flipping to the next page. “Mmm hmmm.”
Priebus was growing impatient—and fearful. “What is it?” he said. “Tell me what’s happening.”
Trump ignored him. Turning to a new page, he scanned the print and then stopped suddenly, his expression and tone shifting at once. He looked up at Hicks. “This doesn’t sound like me.”
Priebus raised his voice in uncharacteristic fashion. “Someone tell me something, please!”
Trump looked at him, put the packet on the table, and slid it across. The party chairman began to read, the room now filling around him with the rest of the team. They had all seen it: an email exchange with Washington Post reporter David Farenthold, who claimed to have an old audio recording of Trump making exceedingly lewd remarks about women and boasting of his ability to get away with