She entered without her usual pratfall; usually she made a show of adjusting her glasses, which caused her to fumble the loose papers she was carrying while muttering under her breath. She often began with a friendly insult: we were “ink-stained wretches” or “typewriter terrorists.” But not this night. She wasn’t even wearing her trademark rhinestone-framed glasses. “Hello, people.”

A couple of people in the back, probably White House staffers, shouted back, “Hello, Eunie!”

The job of the press secretary had changed considerably. Kaufman’s job, rather than answering questions, was basically to tell the media what the administration wanted the public to know and to do so in an entertaining way. She was sort of a human press release. And she was so entertaining that the public either overlooked, ignored, or just didn’t care that few questions were asked or answered. As long as she did her act, nobody other than a few reporters really cared. When a reporter did ask an unapproved question, she peered over the top of her signature glasses, threw her hands in the air, and issued what had quickly become a national catchphrase: “Why are you hocking me with these questions?” Perhaps her most oft-quoted line was, “Listen to me, Mr. Big Shot Reporter, I don’t need you to give me agita. I’ve got my own kids for that.” And the most cutting line of all: “Does your mother know you’re out here badgering an old woman?”

It was a reality show and she was the star. The reporters in that room were willing props, the audience was out there in Televisionland, on the far side of the remotely operated cameras. Not this night, though, not at all. Not while corpses were still floating off Pearl Harbor and through Louisiana streets, and body parts were being scraped off the walls of the Lincoln Tunnel.

Kaufman provided no useful information and did so with great confidence. No organization had claimed credit for the attacks. The intelligence community had promising leads it was pursuing but had no statement to make at this time. Our troops around the world were on high alert. Homeland Security could not yet provide any estimates of killed, wounded, or missing. The president, the first lady, and most of the cabinet had spent the day in the Situation Room, monitoring events. The president had spoken with European leaders, who had offered their prayers and condolences. They promised their cooperation in any investigation and stood ready to provide whatever aid was necessary. To avoid any sense of panic, the president had asked the stock market and banks to remain closed until further notification. A temporary eleven P.M. local time national curfew was being imposed in cities with a population of more than 100,000 for safety. The aviation industry would be reopening in the morning, although many flights would be delayed. It had not been decided when the president would visit any of the sites.

She continued for about ten minutes, mostly reading from the handout we had been given. When she finished, she perched her glasses on the end of her nose and looked over the top of them at us. “Okay, who’s got a question?”