Looking for a Fitting Place for a Romney Interview
Sometimes the best-laid plans of mice, men and NPR hosts go astray. Particularly when an ice storm hits. All Things Considered host Robert Siegel had planned to go to Iowa on Saturday to watch presidential candidate Mitt Romney give a speech and then interview him. But Siegel had to scramble when the weather grounded him, and his editor, Quinn O'Toole in Milwaukee and Romney canceled the speech. Senior editor Susan Feeney was already in Des Moines, juggling communications between Siegel, the NPR engineer and the Romney campaign. Here's Siegel with the rest of the story:
The new plan: Our engineer would go to Romney's hotel room and record the candidate. Quinn would record me at the airport. Romney and I would talk by cell phone, then NPR would mix the two recordings together. Patrick Murray, our engineer, was off buying a snow shovel at a Des Moines hardware store and made a beeline to Romney's hotel. Our window was now just a half an hour away, as Romney's staff had hopes of getting him out of Des Moines.
We needed a place that was reasonably quiet for me to do my end of the interview. Quinn and I started looking as I tried to formulate questions (which I had assumed I would do after watching him campaign in Iowa). The Milwaukee airport conference rooms were locked. We found an "executive work station." It had a noisy air duct overhead that would have made me sound like I was doing hurricane coverage on The Weather Channel.
Then we found a quiet, open, empty office and set up. It wasn't empty for long. Then the man whose office it was turned up. Many NPR reporters have experienced the moment when we have taken outrageous advantage of some situation, could easily have been booted out, but encountered a friendly listener who bent some rule to make a public radio show come together. On the other hand, many NPR reporters have also experienced what we experienced on Saturday. He booted us out of his office. No ifs, ands, buts or kind words for public radio.
As I moved us into the din of the executive work station, where all sorts of other travelers could enter, Quinn scouted again and hit pay dirt. The man at the desk in the airport PGA store told him the quietest, most private room was next door, at the airport Brooks Brothers. A kind lady named Marion permitted us use of that room. It was the fitting room. It was not entirely fitting for an interview (someone rang a Salvation Army bell outside) but, at least, no one interrupted us. So, we can say it was somewhat suitable, which I guess is what Brooks Brothers is all about.
- Robert Siegel
1:07 PM ET | 12- 3-2007 | permalink


