- I don’t quit. I keep going….
- I cannot be insulted. You know? I just can’t be.
- My life has been kind of an unfolding drama; to me as well as everybody else.
- When I look at what’s available in the man department, I’m surprised more women aren’t gay.
Like Dorothy’s, Hugh’s childhood had been marred by ignorance and poverty. Hillary’s paternal grandparents were Welsh immigrants who, in an era before child labor laws, settled in Scranton, Pennsylvania, and went to work rather than attend school. Hugh landed a football scholarship to Penn State, and after graduating with a degree in physical education went to work unloading crate boxes at a warehouse. Later, Hugh struck out for Chicago—and a salesman’s job at the company where Dorothy Howell worked, Columbia Lace.
Dorothy and Hugh were married after a ﬁve-year courtship, in 1942. Almost immediately, Rodham enlisted in the navy and dis-covered a unique opportunity to put his degree in physical education to good use. Rodham was assigned to whip raw recruits into shape using the Gene Tunny program, a regimen devised by the re-tired world heavyweight boxing champion.
When he returned to Chicago after his discharge, Hugh declined an offer to return to his old job. Instead, recognizing that a postwar housing boom would mean a surge in demand for home furnishings, he launched his own custom drapery business. He and Dorothy were ensconced in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in Chicago’s Lincoln Park district when, on October 26, 1947, Dorothy gave birth at nearby Edgewater Hospital to eight-and-a-half-pound Hillary Diane. Dorothy chose what she had always believed to be a man’s name, Hillary, because to her it sounded “exotic.” Even as a toddler, eager-to-please Hillary impressed her mother as being “very mature, very grown up.” When Hugh Jr. arrived three years later, the family relocated to suburban Park Ridge, an upscale, all-white Republican stronghold thirty-ﬁve miles north-west of Chicago.
What she really liked about Saul was his he “believed in a win-at-all-cost approach in the battle for power, and that that required zeroing in with laserlike intensity on one’s enemies. Alinsky advised his students: “Pick the target, freeze it, personalize it, and polarize it.”
I would say that is definitely happening with the hapless Trump right now. They are beaming on him and magnifying his every step to an nsane degree while minimising her many financial and legal fiascos. Obviously Donald has to get back on track.
|Bill & Hill at Yale|
Bill Clinton began life as William Jefferson Blythe III on August 19, 1946, and he never knew the man listed on his birth certiﬁcate as his biological father. Hard-drinking, womanizing W. J. Blythe II had gone through three wives—including a pair of sisters—before he married Virginia Cassidy, a student nurse with a fondness for garish lipstick, stiletto heels, and tight sweaters.
Blythe never bothered to tell his bride that he hadn’t taken the trouble to divorce his third wife. Therefore, the marriage that theoretically produced a future President was invalid.
Back home in Hope, Arkansas, Wife Number Four (Bill’s Momma) was guarding secrets of her own. After her husband shipped out for Europe with the 12th Battalion in 1943, Virginia returned to the wild life she had led before they married, dating old boyfriends and partying until the early morning hours. Blythe returned from the war in December of 1945, and six weeks ;ater Virginia announced that she was pregnant. (so who the real father is basically unknown).
On May 17, 1946, Blythe was speeding down Route 61 when he blew a tire, causing his midnight blue Buick to roll over. Pulling himself from the wreckage, he collapsed in a drainage ditch—and drowned. William J. Blythe III was born three months later.
The first of many well timed deaths for the Clintons….the saga continues.