Free Blind Allegiance to Sarah Palin by Frank Bailey Page A

“How the heck should I know, man?”
    â€œWell, she walks around the house with her robe open and with all those windows we have, well, you know,” Todd said, seeming not to care much either way.
    If it were my wife, fake X-rated photo or not, I’d be horrified.
    When I assured Todd that it had probably been Photoshopped, I felt as if I’d wasted words. Naked photos: not such a big deal.
    When the photo later appeared on Craigslist, the rest of us were less amused. A campaign staffer wrote,
“To Whom It May Concern: We have just been emailed a picture of a nude woman with the face of Sarah Palin on it. This is an altered picture and is not!!!! Sarah Palin. We want it removed immediately or there wil be repercussions.”
    However, at the other end of the concern scale, if a radio host suggested that Sarah had misrepresented a fact in a speech, Todd’s blood boiled. In particular, he came to loathe—as we all did—the Anchorage-based conservative radio host Dan Fagan. Fagan became in fact a top-lister on what eventually grew into an extensive enemies list. At first professing love—literally—for Sarah, he soon turned on her over issues that I believed became more personal than political and ultimately backed her opponent John Binkley in the primary. What this little man said about Sarah consumed us enough that we regularly wasted three hours in the afternoon listening to the radio for his barbs, slights, or criticism. When something was said that she didn’t like, Sarah’s mood would darken, or she might demand that we solicit friends and family to phone in and blast “evildoer Dan Fagan.” Finally, an infuriated Todd shot off an email to Sarah demanding that
she
take the upper hand in the battle with Dan and put him in his place. His tirade included suggesting that we make it known that Fagan was an
“unhealthy looking male that’s not married . . . And his life is all about the next free steak and cigar. . . . He looks sick . . . no wonder he can’t get a date.”
Words from a clownish radio commentator were declarations of war, but the prospect of nude photos of his wife?
Whatever
.

    It didn’t take long for me to realize the Palins’ family and marriage were complicated. What went on in the privacy of their home sometimes leaked out, as when Levi Johnston—former fiancé of Bristol Palin and father of her son, Tripp—described chaotic scenes of family and marital turmoil in his many interviews after becoming a Palin pariah. Granted, Levi is hardly an unimpeachable source. But once in2007, when Governor Palin was weighing a month-long reality show to be filmed in their home, Bristol said, in my presence, “They’d see some shit, that’s for sure.” Sarah not only seemed not to react to the use of a four-letter word, she giggled in agreement.
    Outside the home, there was further evidence of tension. At times, each spouse would separately instruct campaign workers to avoid informing the other of certain things, creating conflicting demands and a tough balancing act. Not only did Todd direct volunteers
not
to burden Sarah about everyday expenses and sign reorders, but he also demanded that we protect Sarah from certain types of emails as well.
    For example, when a concerned parole officer wrote Sarah a lengthy list of recommendations on ways that he believed the division could improve its operation, Todd instructed us to take action that we all knew never would have met with Sarah’s blessing:
    We need to stop, shield and intercept any e-mails from supporter’s who have fallen through the cracks and are mad, from getting to Sarah. When she receives these e-mail she feels obligated to respond, taking valuable time away from her preparation for the next day’s events.
    Not only did I find this message demeaning, since we always sought to make Sarah’s life easier by working seventy-hour weeks, but if