Twenty-five minutes stuck in an elevator with Alfonse D’Amato and Ed Koch. Let’s repeat that: Twenty-five minutes stuck in an elevator with BOTH Alfonse D’Amato and Ed Koch. There are now twelve people in the world who know how that feels. The rest of us can wear little black lapel ribbons: Free the New York Twelve!
Here’s what happened. A half hour ago, D’Amato and his entourage were heading downstairs for his concession speech. The elevator’s capacity was eight riders. Senator Pothole, Mr. Can-do, crammed in 14 riders. And the elevator stopped between floors. For twenty-five minutes. With 14 people. Including Ed Koch. This is not D’Amato’s lucky night.
There is nobody in the U.S. Senate whom it is so fashionable to disdain as Alfonse D’Amato. Polite opinion finds him esthetically displeasing. But when he takes the stage and begins his valedictory, he looks cheerful and brave. “Never in my wildest dreams,” he says, “did I think I would have the privilege to serve this state for 18 years.” It’s surprisingly moving to see him there, being so intimate and emotional. He’s opening up, making an effort. Being a good guy. The Pothole Man has a heart. He may not have inspired idealism or grandeur during his long Washington tenure. But now, at the end, he’s touchingly graceful and warm. Surely that counts for something.
As the ballroom empties, at least one D’Amato fan takes the long view. “As I told Mike Tyson on New Year’s Eve,” this fellow tells a companion, “you got to keep on battling.” Talk about a privilege! Just to be in the same room as the one Republican in America who can start a sentence with “As I told Mike Tyson” seems to open up limitless vistas of opportunity. Maybe there’s hope after all for Republicans. You just got to keep on battling.
Reported by the staff of THE WEEKLY STANDARD
