-- Tom Brokaw on the NBC "Nightly News"*

"Remember the ending."

"I will, Dad."

"And be sure to smile, but not like a cheese."

"Dad," the son sighed.

"I know, I know. Not my turn anymore. What can I say? It's a habit. Do good, Junior."

"That's what I'm here for."

"Such easy confidence!" the father chided jokingly. "I don't know whether they'll like that," he added more seriously.

"I don't know how they couldn't. I think it's just what we need right now! We need someone . . . but why am I defending my position to my father? You should be the one person who's behind me in this outfit."

"And your mother!"

"Yes, Mom, too."

"You're awfully young."

"That's why it will work."

"You're a Republican."

"The economy is doing great. We need to focus on helping Americans help themselves, now-- . . . You're a republican, too, Dad. There I go, again! I can't seem to stop talking like a politician!"

"It's in your blood."

"Yeah, Mom is pretty democratic-- "

"Haha. We're proud of you, Junior. And win or lose this race, you've given America something to think about."

"Does life ever go back to normal? Do you ever stop talking like a politician?"

"Nope. Only occasionally--around family. But would you really want a normal life? You've never had a normal life."

"That's true. I'm on."

"Don't forget the ending."

"I won't."

"All right."

"Don't be nervous! That's my job!"

"I'd rather do it for you."

"That's your job."

"All right, smart aleck. You still act like you're twelve, not thirty-eight. Go get ‘em, Tiger."

"Thanks, Dad."

"How's he doing?"

"Nervous wreck!"

"He's doing fine. You're the nervous wreck."

"I always look like this."

"If you had always looked like that, I wouldn't have married you."

"Where are Cora and Sam and Jack?"

"With their mother, of course."

"Where's Maureen? Where's their mother?"

"Right next to you, old man," his wife chided.

"Oh! Oh, hello Maureen," he greeted across the empty seat. "You gave a very good speech. Maybe you should run for governor next term in your husband's place."

"I do like campaigning. But not for myself. Someone has to take care of the little rascals," she ruffled five year old Sam's shaggy blond hair.

"If you ever did, Bob and I wouldn't mind taking the kids while you're busy," the former first lady offered across her husband's now-vacant chair.

"Gerdie, stop yelling across the room and come sit with Maureen and me, will you?"

"The children will want their chair back pretty soon, won't they?"

"Nonsense, they're children. Hold them on your lap. Come sit by me, I'm fidgety."

"You're always fidgety at these things."

"Come sit by me, anyway."

"No. Then you'll be fidgety by me, and I really don't think I could handle all your little quips right now, Bob."

"You were much more pleasant when you were first lady."

"You were much more pleasant, too!"

"Impossible--I was never first lady! Come sit by me; I'll be good," he patted the cushion and Gerdie obliged, just as her littlest grandson skipped back over from bothering some of the camera men.

"Come here, Jack. Sit on Grandpa's lap." He grunted and groaned as he pulled the four-year-old up onto his knees.

"You're an actor," Gerdie accused.

"Quiet, you." he turned his grandson to face him. "So, Jack! Do you want to be president like your grandpapa and your daddy when you grow up?"

"Yeah!"

"Don't say ‘yeah' say ‘yes'. Maureen, what are you teaching these children? Now. Do you want to be president?"

"Yeah!"

"Yes!"

"Good. And who will your Vice-President be?"

"You!"

"Me? Well, thank you, but no. You'll have to find someone else."

"Sam!"

"I think Sam would be a very good running mate."

"Dad, we really don't want to encourage him. We want him to decide for himself what he wants to do," Maureen interrupted.

"Robert decided for himself. Jack will decide for himself. He is deciding for himself! He was over there soaking up the lime light with the reporters and making a general spectacle of himself a minute ago."

"I hope he didn't say anything," the mother mused.

"William was with him; there's no harm."

"William Marks?"

"Porter. Robert's left hand man."

"Booob," Gerdie admonished. "Be nice to William. He's very good with the kids, and he's an asset to Robert."

"Kids say the strangest things, sometimes. You never know. Didn't Robert ever embarrass you?"

"Once. We were in the store, and he was still young enough to be in the seat in the cart. I was pushing him down the isles while Gertrude looked for stockings, or something, and he started burping up a storm. Belching as loud as a truck driver! I was mortified, and had been running for mayor at the time, so I couldn't just walk away, which I did contemplate doing. Belched the whole way down the isle just when everyone was out shopping for their dinners. Never fed that kid lima beans again!"

"Oh, Cora loves her lima beans, don't you, Cora?" Maureen asked her curly blonde haired three-year-old daughter, who looked up from her discussion with her grandma to nod happily.

"Just don't take her to the store afterwards. She may turn out to be like her father."

"Are you telling that silly story again, Bob? Honestly. That was thirty-six years ago," Gerdie said exasperatedly. "You'd think you'd be over it by now. Tell a cute story. Tell the one about him singing all through the mall."

The former President of the United States of America groaned. "Yes, that was cute, all right. We took Robert to the mall to buy him some clothes. Maybe a toy, if he was good. You know--the usual. The whole two hours we were there, he was singing ‘Jesus loves me, yes I know, for the Bible tells me so' at the top of his lungs. Oh, yes. He was quite a cute little spectacle."

"You loved it, Bob. Especially," Gerdie started laughing at the thought, "Especially when Father Greene walked by and heard him!" she remembered joyfully as the others started laughing, too. "Every Sunday after that, Father Greene tried to get him to sing the song for him! And he never would! It went on for two years!"

"Father Greene finally gave up!"

Maureen gasped with a sudden realization. "So that's why Robert keeps trying to get Sam to sing that song during church!"

The grandparents chuckled and hugged their grandchildren closer to them.

"Grandmama?"

"Yes, Cora-Dora?"

"When is Daddy going to talk?"

"Oh, in a minute or so, dear."

"Will he wave to us?"

"You know he always does," she smiled fondly at her granddaughter. "And a special wink for you, of course."

"Is Daddy going to go away?"

"Well, why on Earth should he?"

"They said if Daddy is the pres'dnt, he'll go to . . . to Washville A.B.C."

Gerdie grinned at the little girl's misunderstanding. "Your daddy will never leave you. If he goes to Washington D.C., you'll go too."

"Is it nice there?"

"Ohhh, yes. Very pretty."

"Will Tuck come?"

"Why, I suppose so. Your daddy had a dog when we lived in the White House."

"Will you live with us?"

"No, we'll stay here. But we'll come and visit a lot-- Oh, now listen! They just said you're daddy's coming on now!"

"Daddy!!" the youngster squealed, as she stood up on her seat in her yellow sundress and white sandals.

Presently, Robert Harrison, Jr. walked out onto the stage, waving and smiling. As he reached the podium and the crowd quieted down, he gave his last wave and the wink to his family.

"HI DADDY!!" the little voices screamed. The microphone nearby picked up the message and broadcasted it to the audience.

The congregation laughed and cooed at the family spectacle. "Hello, Sammy, Jack, and Cora. Family. Hello, friends. Thank you for coming."

An hour later, two grandparents, and a mother, with a sleeping child apiece, paraded backstage to congratulate their father/husband/son on his acceptance speech.

"Oh, Robert, you did wonderful! I loved the ending!"

"Robert! Good speech, bad ending. Why didn't you do the one I told you to?"

"Dad!!" and then there were but two sleeping children.

"Jack-a-roo!" the son leapt from his grandfather's arms to his father's arms.

"I think we may turn into a legacy, Robert. Jack here says he wants to be president like his dad and grandfather when he grows up."

"Oh, yeah?" he scratched his little boy's tummy as Jack loosened his tie for him. "Who's going to be your running mate?"

"Sam!"

"Does he know this?"

" . . . No."

"Oh. Well, if things don't work out with Sam, you always have Cora, too!"

At the sound of her name she awoke, leaving only one child asleep in his mother's arms.

"Daddy!"

"Cora-dor!" she leaped unexpectedly from her grandmama to her dad, who practically dropped Jack, trying to catch Cora.

"Hey, a munchkin on each arm. This is the life."

"Dad!" Sam tried to worm away from his mother and into his father's arms, heedless of the fact that they were full of his sister and brother.

"Whoa! Hold on, Sam. Jack, have your grandpa put you on my shoulders." With a daughter clinging to his left side, his eldest on his right, and the middle one right on top, he made quite a charming picture. The newspapers agreed.

-- Robert Harrison at a Press Conference in Seattle, Washington, August 15, 2000.

-- Robert Harrison on Good Morning America, August 23, 2000.*

-- Robert Harrison in an interview with Connie Chung, September 3, 2000.*

-- Robert Harrison in a press conference in Detroit, Michigan, September 8, 2000.

-- Robert Harrison in a press conference September 30, 2000.

-- Robert Harrison in an interview with Gotham Chopra on Channel One news, October 8, 2000.*

Three months, two days, and too many stressful hours of campaigning, debates, commercials, and publicity acts after Robert Harrison accepted the Republican Nomination, voters, not as many as in past years, but a few more than most recent years, turned out at the polls to vote for the President of the United States of America.

"Tonight's the big night," Maureen commented as she straightened her husband's tie.

"Tonight I'm either Governor of Arizona, or President of the United States of America."

"It's going on! Right now! All over the country, millions of people are voting either for or against you!"

"Let's just stick with ‘All over the country millions of people are voting,' Dad. When you think about it, it's not that big of a difference. Governor is easier, I guess."

"Quite an actor! You know you're just as nervous as I am!"

"Quiet, Bob! He's acting like you did," Gerdie shushed him.

"Five minutes," Maureen announced.

"Daddy, are you nervous?" Jack asked, climbing into his father's lap and loosening his tie for him.

"Just a little, Jack-a-roo. This is a very important night for Daddy."

"Is that why we have to dress up?"

"Yeah, that's why."

"Yes, that's why," Jack corrected him.

"Dad, you've been talking to Jack again, haven't you?"

"You youngsters need to learn to speak properly. Better to teach the new ones at a young age so we won't go through the hassle we're going through with you."

Robert gave a huge sigh, and Jack wrapped his arms around his father's neck, sensing that he needed comfort.

"Here, Robert." Maureen gave her husband a glass of water and gathered the children around him.

"What did you do today, Cora?" he asked his little girl.

"Grandmama and Mommy took me to the zoo!"

"Oh? And what did you like best about the zoo?"

"The lemurs!"

"The lemurs?! That's very interesting. Do lemurs make noises?"

"They burp!"

"What . . . ?"

"They burp!"

"Maureen?"

"Tell Daddy about Zoboo, honey."

"Zoboomafoo***** has his own TV show! He's a lemur! And every day when he visits Martin and Chris, they feed him and then he burps! Then he can talk! But not before," she informed him wisely.

"Ohhh! I see! Yes, that's very interesting. Very smart lemur, he is. Jack and Sam, what did you do with your Grandpa today?"

"We went fishing!"

"Did you? Where?"

"The lake by Mount Vermin!" Sam supplied.

"Mount Vernon,"****** Robert laughed. "Yes, I hear that's a very good lake. Did you catch anythi-- Maureen, look at the time. Jack, grab my jacket, please. Maurreeeeen, my tie!"

"Stay calm, darling. Being flustered isn't one of your strong points," she straightened his tie for him as Jack brought his jacket, which he slipped on. "Cora, kiss your daddy. Jack and Sam, you too."

"All right, Maureen. This is it. Let's go out there."

A barrage of cheers and screaming met the ears of the candidates and their families as they stepped onstage and waited for the final count of votes to be posted on the huge television screen. Only a few percent difference between Robert Harrison and Garret Grant with Bartholomew Scott trailing with only 12% of the votes so far.

Just minutes to go . . . seconds to go...the arena is packed with screaming, overcrowded citizens, all waving banners and shouting chants through megaphones.

Final count just in! Grant-Ternetti with 37% of votes total . . . Scott-Fitzgerald with 14% of votes total . . . and Harrison-McCune with 49% of votes total!

The stadium erupted in cheers as the new President and Vice-President shook hands.

"Daddy! Did you win?" Cora shouted to her father, who was shaking hands with Scott's running mate.

"Yes, honey! I won!" he swung his baby girl into the air and kissed her, then gathered all three of his children into his arms.

"Congratulations, Robert!" his mother cried and hugged him and kissed him and hugged him and kissed him repeatedly.

"I'm proud of you, Son."

"I hope I do as well as you."

"Don't you dare do as well as I. I'm expecting you to do ten times better. Congratulations, Robert."

"Thanks, Dad."

The proud parents stepped aside as the First Lady finally approached her husband and whispered coyly in his ear, "Congratulations, Mr. President," before kissing his cheek.

Flash! Snap! Flash! Flash! Snap! Flash! Snap! Snap!

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the picture that appeared in the next morning's paper, all over the country. His loving wife at his side, two proud parents with their arms around each other on the other side, his daughter on his left arm . . . his eldest on his right . . . and the middle child right atop the future President of the United States' shoulders.