http://www.newsweek.com/id/142650
http://www.newsweek.com/id/142651
- Interview
Contact:
Jan Angilella FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:
at
212-445-5638 Sunday, June 22, 2008
COVER:
BEHIND THAT SMILE
UNDERSTANDING CINDY MCCAIN
CINDY
MCCAIN SAYS IT TOOK HER LONGER THAN HER HUSBAND TO GET PAST 2000
AND THE
SOUTH CAROLINA PRIMARY; 'IT'S ANOTHER LESSON I LEARNED FROM MY
HUSBAND
ABOUT FORGIVENESS'
----
SAYS
IT'S BEEN GOOD TO MEET OTHER MOTHERS WITH SONS IN THE WAR;
'I HAVE
MADE A LOT OF LASTING FRIENDSHIPS'
New York-Cindy McCain tells Newsweek that
it took her longer to get past the dirty politics of the 2000 South Carolina
primary than her husband, Sen. John McCain. "It's another lesson I learned
from my husband about forgiveness," she tells White House Correspondent
Holly Bailey in the current issue. "I have publicly said it was very
difficult for me because it was my daughter ... You can go after me, but stay
away from my children. In a sense, I am over it. I can sit here
now and say it was just politics, and that's the downside to all this."
Cindy McCain's interview is part of the
June 30 Newsweek cover, "Behind That Smile," (on newsstands Monday,
June 23). Bailey also talks to Cindy McCain about their son in Iraq, a topic
they do not bring up on the campaign trail.
She says, from a mother's standpoint, "If I can hear his voice, I
know he's OK. And I know that's a feeling that thousands upon thousands of
other families in this
country have felt. It's been good for me to meet other mothers who are going
through what I go through, and I have made a lot of lasting friendships through
this common bond."
Cindy McCain says she had to "think
about it a little bit" when asked whether she was eager to go through
another presidential election. "I wasn't as eager as others were,"
she says. "I had to come around. I'm very happy and I support him 100
percent, and I'm onboard. But having done this before, I knew what I was
getting into, and I didn't know if I was ready to make the sacrifice again.
It's not that I don't believe in my husband, but if I was going to do this, I
wanted to do the very best I could and give 100 percent. So I did have to think
about it a little bit."
In the cover story, Bailey profiles Cindy
McCain, who calls herself her husband's "best friend, best adviser and
closest confidant." After nearly
30 years together but apart, she has her own sense of mission, one that does
not necessarily require a husband in the White House. That doesn't mean
she
doesn't want it-particularly for him. As First Lady, she would not sit in on
cabinet meetings. But the White House would give her a platform to advance
causes, like special education, that are important to her. "My biggest
goal is hopefully to inspire more people to get involved in their communities,
to focus on, as my husband has said, causes greater than themselves."
Bailey was with Cindy McCain last week in
Vietnam where she went to do charity work with Operation Smile, which helps
children with cleft palates. She got started after a 1984 scuba diving trip in
Micronesia, when a friend was injured and had to be taken to the hospital. She
was sickened by the
filthy conditions in the ER: "There were cats in the operating room and
rats everywhere," she says. When she returned home, she began collecting
medical supplies and sending them to the hospital. "Finally, the hospital
called and said, really what we need is a good orthopedic surgeon," she
says. "So I called some friends and we planned a trip ... I don't know
what made me do it."
She named her charity the American
Voluntary Medical Team. In 1991, she camped in the Kuwait desert five days
after the end of the gulf war to bring medical supplies to refugees. That same
year, she visited Mother Teresa's orphanage in Dhaka, Bangladesh, where she saw
160 newborn girls who had been abandoned. The nuns handed her a small baby with
a cleft palate so severe that she
couldn't be fed. Another baby, also just a few weeks old, had a heart defect.
Worried they would die without medical attention, Cindy applied for medical
visas to take the girls back to the United States. But the country's minister
of health refused to sign the papers. "We can do surgery on this child,"
an official told her. Cindy, frustrated, slammed her fist on the table.
"Then do it! What are you waiting for?" The official, stunned, simply signed the papers. "I don't
know where I got the nerve," Cindy said.
When
she arrived in Phoenix, she carried the baby with the cleft palate off the
plane. Her husband met her at the airport. He looked at the baby. "Where
is she going," he asked her. "To our house," she replied. They
adopted the little girl and named her Bridget. Family friends adopted the other
little girl.
Last
week in Vietnam, Cindy relived that time as she talked to a young Vietnamese
mother at a hospital in tiny Nha Trang. The woman clutched a tiny newborn with
a severe cleft palate. Ditching
her handlers, she went over to talk with her. "Where's the
interpreter?" Cindy said. In tears, the woman told Cindy that she had been
denied a consultation by the Operation Smile workers because they feared her
baby was too sick to be helped. "I had a baby just like yours," Cindy slowly
told her, allowing the interpreter to translate. She played with the baby's
tiny fingers, recalling that her own daughter had been written off as
unsavable. She joined the mother in the observation room and listened as
cardiologists told them they feared the baby might go into cardiac arrest
if they were to operate. As the mother cried, Cindy, through an interpreter,
told her that she knew exactly how she felt and patted her back. "That
baby deserved a shot," she said, "just like Bridget did." In the
end, the doctors decided to perform the surgery.
# # #
(Read interview and cover story at www.Newsweek.com)