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Peace at any cost is a Prelude to War!
Women of the Clinton Scandals
Whatever happened to Paula and Gennifer and Monica and Connie and
Sally and Dolly and Susan and...
By Matt Labash
As the sun sets on Bill Clinton's presidency, it is easy to give in
to sentimentalizing, to legacy-assessing, to speculating about his
future: Will he run for Senate or host his own talk show? Will he
putter around his rutabaga garden in fuzzy house slippers? Where will
he take his first date?
As journalists plumb for answers to these important questions, the
most distinctive contingent of the Clinton era has been grossly
neglected. They come in all shapes and hair colors, some of them
without benefit of bleach or surgical enhancement. They've started
websites and written tell-all books. They do nude spreads and
penance, and one of them even did time. They've been hookers and
housewives and ladies all. They are the Women Of the Clinton Scandals
(WOCS).
In the interest of catching up and making sense of the last eight
years, we called some WOCS to take one last lap around infamy's
track. Space considerations necessitate limiting ourselves to a
representative sample. Besides, as of late, no one's seen much of
Sally Perdue (the former Miss Arkansas who was threatened after
disclosing the ugly particulars of her affair with Clinton—such as
his "wearing my black nightgown, playing the sax badly"). And neither
were we able to contact Gennifer Flowers, currently traveling with
her husband, the unfortunately named Finis Shelnutt. Since Flowers
has abandoned her Gennifer's Girls interactive cybersex service,
she's stayed busy on her website selling "Presidente" cigars, her
tell-too-much book ("Willard" and "Precious" were their pet names for
each other's privates), and pictures of herself. When not engaging in
presidential commerce, the cabaret veteran has brought the gift of
song to an international audience and lectured on "Surviving Sex,
Power and Propaganda" at the Oxford Union.
There are also WOCS who are attempting to rise above the past. These
days, Monica Lewinsky will only talk about the Big Creep to a federal
grand jury. While Lewinsky used to be all-embarrassing-disclosures,
all-the-time (her book informed us that she went to "fat camp," threw
a hissy fit when daddy wouldn't buy her a Snoopy telephone, and told
a gut-conscious Clinton, "I like your tummy"), she is all business
these days, especially since her tax and legal expenses have eaten
through her Jenny Craig profits. Fortunately, she has found a way
to "reawaken my creative senses" by selling purses online (our
favorite: the Moroccan Mermaid Button Purse). As she told the Pure
Oxygen website, "Bags are my life."
Still, there are other WOCS with stories to tell (and with listed
phone numbers). In the beginning, there was Connie Hamzy, the
infamous rock'n'roll groupie (who claims a résumé stretching from
Vanilla Ice to Richard Carpenter) and the first of candidate
Clinton's extramarital headaches. In the January 1992 Penthouse,
Hamzy detailed her 1984 encounter with Governor Clinton, when he
tried to pick her up in her skimpy purple bikini at a Little Rock
hotel pool. After stealing a quick grope, they were unable to find an
available room, and their session went unconsummated. As Newsweek
reported, Hillary Clinton wanted to destroy Hamzy's credibility, such
as it was (Hamzy boasted of taking on 24 guys during a single Allman
Brothers concert). But Hamzy, who passed a polygraph test
administered by the American Spectator, persuasively declared, "I may
be a slut, but I'm no liar."
Since her disclosure, it's been tough going for the woman Grand Funk
Railroad immortalized in song as "Sweet Sweet Connie." In 1995, she
was cited by police in a Little Rock park after her thong bikini
failed to conceal her sufficiently. In 1998, her campaign for mayor
of Little Rock self-destructed when she was arrested for public
intoxication. To support her groupie habit, she's worked a string of
dead-end jobs from part-time retail clerk to breeder of Persian cats.
So it's understandable she grows agitated when I ask her for a
Clinton assessment. "What's in it for me?" she asks. "Free
publicity," I offer. "I can't eat publicity," she snarls. "I'm not
talking unless you're talking money. Call me again, and I'll call
Bruce Lindsey at the White House." I try to explain that Lindsey only
intimidates people who've had sexual contact with Clinton, which, as
of this writing, excludes me. But she abruptly hangs up.
Celebrating the miracle of airbrushing, Paula Jones has, in its
latest issue, joined Sweet Connie in the Penthouse pantheon with a
multi-page layout and an accompanying interview in which she
denounces conservatives who used her harassment charge for political
ends. While Jones did not respond to interview requests, her
estranged husband Steve did. A failed actor and airline ticketing
agent, Steve had the first inkling their marriage was going south
after Paula jeopardized their credibility by lending her name to the
Celebrity Psychic Network. Her Penthouse spread has him apoplectic,
though he doesn't think it will win him custody of their children,
since in California, "you can be a prostitute and they'll give you
custody." Steve allows that he "enjoyed playing the chess game" that
nearly toppled Clinton. But he says that while his wife was
inappropriately propositioned, "she certainly shouldn't have stayed
[in Clinton's hotel room] as long as she did." With a mound of debts
and a busted marriage, Steve says, "I sometimes sit down with a good
Cabernet and think, What the hell was it all about, and would I do it
again? Absolutely not."
Less remorseful is Dolly Kyle Browning, the spunky Dallas real estate
attorney with self-described "sea-mist green eyes" who was outed
during impeachment as one of Clinton's paramours. Not just any
paramour, mind you, like the "12-year one night stand" that Browning
says Clinton conducted with Flowers. Browning has known Clinton since
they were children, and says that as a pair of sex addicts (she's in
recovery), they had a 30-year multi-dimensional relationship which
she has detailed in her self-published roman a clef Purposes of the
Heart (best character: Mallory Cheatham, the fat-ankled wife of
southern governor Cameron Coulter).
Though Browning planned a trilogy, she interrupted writing "book two
to write book true," a non-fiction treatment of her experiences
entitled Perjuries of the Heart. When asked what Clinton should do
next, Browning replies, "He needs to turn and repent and get his life
straight." What she believes he'll do instead is a reverse
Reagan. "Reagan did the B-movies first and then the presidency," she
says. "Clinton will do the presidency and then the B-movies. He has
to be in the limelight, and he'll do whatever it takes to get there."
While Browning is waiting for Clinton to turn up in Porky's 4, Susan
McDougal wouldn't be able to afford a matinee ticket. Out of work and
living at her parents' home in Camden, Ark., Clinton's Whitewater
partner is battle-hardened after serving 22 months in seven different
prisons resulting from her refusal to testify before Ken Starr, whom
she has likened to Charles Manson. Now taking up the mantle of prison
reform (she is incredulous that I'm unaware prison toilet tanks
double as water fountains—"you've lived a sheltered life"), McDougal
says she doesn't resent Clinton in the least, though she wouldn't
mind a presidential pardon to erase her substantial contempt fines.
McDougal's been romantically linked to Clinton, a charge she
categorically denies, though she does find him "brotherly
attractive." The suspicion is hardly surprising, she says, since "any
woman of a certain age in Arkansas was suspected." She's elated about
Hillary's election, though of the Clinton marriage, she says, "I
can't figure that whole deal out." McDougal thinks Clinton's been
a "great president," but her praise comes with a caveat. She wishes
he hadn't been embroiled in the Lewinsky scandal, which she says kept
Starr on the case, costing her an additional six months in jail.
Two non-consensual WOCS who are more liberal with their Clinton
criticisms are Kathleen Willey and Juanita Broaddrick, allegedly
pawed and raped, respectively. Willey is now happily remarried after
filing bankruptcy as a result of debts incurred by her first husband,
who committed suicide on the day of her Clinton encounter. After
being systematically harassed by anonymous tormentors who, among
other things, stole her cat and threatened her children, after being
demonized by administration soldiers who leaked her private
correspondence, and after developing a nasty case of stress-related
shingles, Willey has dropped her lawsuit against the
administration. "What they did was wrong," says Willey. "But this
will take years in court with the Clintons, and I just don't have the
stomach to be in the same room with those people anymore."
Of all those she resents, Hillary is foremost. "She put a lot of this
stuff in motion. She put Sid Blumenthal out there," says Willey. The
$8 million book deal Hillary secured is especially irksome to Willey,
who was once accused by Clinton lackeys of trying to turn a quick
literary buck (which she never attempted). "You know what that book's
going to be?" asks Willey. "It's going to be page after page of
lies." Willey adds that "she'll write that like she wrote the book on
entertaining [the first lady's recent offering, An Invitation to the
White House]. Give me a break. I worked in that social office.
Hillary Clinton's expertise you could fit in the head of a thimble—
she doesn't know a dessert spoon from a soup spoon."
Two years ago, Juanita Broaddrick claimed that she was raped in 1978
by then Arkansas attorney general Bill Clinton, who bit her lip until
it was swollen then told her before leaving, "You better put some ice
on that." Broaddrick's life has returned to normal: tennis matches,
tending to the animals on her Van Buren, Ark., spread, gathering her
nursing home business's records for the mysterious tax audit that
seems to come the way of many of the WOCS. Broaddrick, who believed
finally coming forward would lead to Clinton's removal from office,
says she is partly to blame that the controversy blew over (Clinton
left his denial to his lawyer and hasn't addressed it since). "I
should've come forward sooner," she says.
On the whole, Broaddrick says her disclosure has been beneficial to
her marriage and mental health. Still, whenever she sees Clinton on
television, "There's just a hatred. I want to go through the TV
screen and strangle the man. I just wish he'd be removed from public
sight, but I feel like he's going to stay active and try to get
[Hillary] elected [president] in 2004."
Asked what they'd say to Clinton if they ran into him at the
Stop'n'Shop, Willey laughs. "You mean if he was buying a pound of
bacon?" she asks, before lapsing into thoughtful silence. "I'd say
that my family worked for you, my children admired you. I am just so
profoundly disappointed that you turned to this, that you did this to
people like me, for going into a courtroom and telling the truth
under oath." Broaddrick is less circumspect: "I'd tell him to go to
hell."
By Matt Labash
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