HuffPo blogger Mayhill Fowler admits to covering up another Bill Clinton affair with unnamed mistress in 2008

lewinskyLiberal bloggers will do whatever they can to protect Democrats from scrutiny. Take for instance this Huffington Post liberal blogger named Mayhill Fowler. Seems that ole’ cigar tube man Bill Clinton is still screwing around (literally) like its the 1990s. Yet Fowler who traveled with Hillary Clinton during her 2008 campaign finally admits that she knew about Bill Clinton’s affair during the 2008 campaign but chose instead to cover it up. Somehow assuming Hillary would win the Presidency, the state of the Clintons’ marriage had national security implications.

At the time I covered the rally in Victoria, I had decided not to follow up on another story about Bill Clinton that had come my way–one involving his longtime mistress. I mention the nature of the Clinton story with some specificity now only because months later, after the Democratic primaries, the National Enquirer wrote about the relationship. In Texas, staring this story in the face, immediately I turned aside. If I know all about this woman, then surely every national reporter does and is as wary of the story as I am. Nevertheless, I was careful never to mention anything to anybody at OffTheBus. I rationalized the refusal to follow through by telling myself that Clinton’s private life was peripheral to the race. But then there came a moment in the Texas primary when the nature of the Clinton marriage suddenly appeared front and center.

A difference between Election 2008 and preceding presidential races is that only one political ad for TV had as much impact as any of half-a-dozen YouTube videos. The brilliant television ad was the “3 A.M. crisis phone call at the White House” that the Clinton Campaign ran in Texas before the primary. The Clinton team knew Texans–folks obsessed with all things big, including such big prospects as national security. So the red phone ad, as it was sometimes called, was powerful persuasion. If I heard a Texan say it once, I heard it a hundred times: thank goodness Hillary will have Bill next to her at 3 A.M. By late February, a piece that gave depth to this naïve view of the Clintons’ relationship was suddenly something to think about. But in fact I never really considered it. Executing such a story could have had consequences for the mistress’s children, who were still minors. There was no way I would write something that I knew in advance would mortify a high school student in front of his peers. My mother’s outrage and pain at the political sex scandal that had blighted her adolescence was just too vivid a presence. [A previous chapter in my book recounts my family's involvement in politics--what had once seemed quaint history but that I gradually realized was shaping every observation I made. The relevant incident for my Texas decision was an old collision between sex and politics that hurt my mother and her siblings, all young teens at the time. In the 1930s, E. H. Crump, boss of the Memphis political machine, hired a man to woo my grandmother and then used the ensuing billets-doux to blackmail my grandfather, who was mayor. To summarize the earlier chapter: political machinations went awry; children paid the price.]

So I continued to rationalize. I told myself various truths: many different kinds of loving experiences make a good world; no one except partners themselves know what goes on behind the bedroom door. As a woman who has been married for thirty-six years, I appreciate the complicated and forgiving nature of long attachments. Nuance about the dynamic of a successful marriage had been one of the things lacking in the widely-criticized New York Times piece on John McCain’s supposed infatuation with a lobbyist. Therefore, I told myself, the presence of a mistress really does not tell us all that much about the rich relationship between Bill and Hillary Clinton. But, in the end, I passed on the story for personal reasons. And I came to see that family history, which had always been a penumbra belonging to the dead, was shaping my own storytelling.

Choosing what to write, a luxury most reporters do not have, is a two-sided gift. Time and again I chose–sometimes wisely, sometimes not. That power, too, would become a burden. I began to wonder if it were a good thing for a reporter to be flying solo–if it were not better to be part of a team that deliberated late on Friday afternoons. Whether to write about Bill Clinton’s mistress may have been too big a decision for one reporter on the scene. On the other hand, if an editor ordered me to hand over material I had gathered on the company dime, would I feel relief–or guilt at handing off a hit that I was not willing to execute myself? Never have I come to any satisfactory accommodation with this conundrum, a companion of a sort for the increasingly-long twilight drives as winter turned into spring and summer.”


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January 12, 2010 · Filed Under Liberal Media Bias

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