56.0°,
A Few Clouds John McCain and me
First Person
By Masada Siegel
I first met Senator John McCain when I was working as a television reporter in a small town market. It was my first assignment. I was sent out with the hope of perhaps snagging an interview with a congressman, if I was lucky. Politicians, not as well known, and not as high ranking, did not bother to give me the time of day, but Senator John McCain did, and first impressions matter.
It was my first up-close and personal moment with McCain, and even though we did not have a scheduled interview, he took a few minutes out of his hectic day and answered all my questions.
Needless to say, I returned to the newsroom triumphant with my success. But it also made me think about Senator McCain’s qualities. As silly as it sounds, he took five minutes out of his schedule to spend time with a small town rookie reporter, while every other politician who was around looked at me and simply said, “I don’t have time for you.”
I translated that to mean, “I am busy and important and don’t have time for people who are not going to further my career - and you can’t do anything for me –– so why bother?”
Senator McCain was obviously different, which inspired me to research his story. While he was a prisoner of war in Vietnam, he was offered early release as the son of a prominent admiral, but McCain said, “no thanks.” It would have meant leaving his comrades behind, and violated the POW code of conduct - creating a propaganda bonanza for the enemy.
What kind of person would say no to freedom and instead accept years of torture? Who would remain a prisoner of war, perhaps forever? McCain showed the mark of a remarkably strong character; his actions revealed him as a man who looks out for people other than himself.
I bumped into McCain periodically while covering the Republican National Convention for CNN. He had no idea who I was, but was always kind, cordial and good-natured.
On one occasion I attended a high society event in New York where McCain was the featured speaker. Every person in the room - besides me - was a multi-millionaire. The crowd stood and clapped as Senator McCain was introduced; as he was about to begin his speech, one of the guests fainted. McCain was calm and cool while others panicked, and made sure the paramedics were called. I remember seeing genuine concern on his face.
I walked over to Senator McCain after the speech, not in the capacity of a journalist, but as a private citizen, and said, “Senator, I bet I am the only person in this room who has voted for you!” He smiled as I explained how I moved around a lot but always kept my Arizona residence. In a room full of potentially large donors, McCain spent a good 15 minutes asking me the type of questions a family friend would ask, such as “Where did you go to high school?”
He might be a career politician, but as a person, McCain has shown me over and over again that the regular people count. Actions speak louder than words, and McCain’s actions say that whether it is the small town reporter starting out a career or the city girl surrounded by people with millions of dollars, everyone is equal and everyone is equally important.
Masada Siegel, otherwise known as Fun Girl Correspondent, is a freelance writer in Scottsdale, Arizona and can be reached at fungirlcorrespondent@gmail.com
