At the end of the tour, Freddie returned Joe to the amicable Sister Lola, who told Joe more than he really wanted to know about Dr. Goodpasture. Joe made a show of taking notes while the woman talked, and he asked a number of questions. When the other people in the office began pulling out sack lunches and heading for what was apparently the break room, Joe thanked Sister Lola and told her how impressed he was by everything he had seen and heard. “Would it be possible for me to attend choir practice this evening?” he asked. “And I would like to spend a half hour or so of personal meditation time in the sanctuary.”
Joe headed first for the restroom then wandered the halls for a time and revisited the choir room before making his way back to the sanctuary. He sat in the back row of the main floor and studied the room, getting things straight in his head. He even thought about saying a prayer but decided he would save his prayers for a more holy setting. Someplace where he was surrounded by nature with the sky overhead.
Marcia and her cameraman showed their ID badges to a uniformed security guard before being admitted into the suite on the top floor of the stately old hotel in downtown Dallas. The spacious suite looked as though it had been furnished with visiting royalty in mind with ornate rococo furniture, luxurious Oriental rugs spread over hardwood floors, and huge arrangements of fresh flowers on the tables and sideboards. They were greeted by a sleek gray-haired woman in a designer suit who introduced herself as the public relations director for the Alliance of Christian Voters.
“I watched your noon broadcast,” the woman told Marcia.
Marcia expected some comment to follow as to whether or not the PR director enjoyed the program. Instead the woman asked, “Can you assure me that Miss Hartmann’s interview will be aired on this evening’s news broadcast as well as on your own show tomorrow?”
“Barring a major fast-breaking news event, that is correct,” Marcia said, adding that the station’s reporters usually did not interview evangelists, but with Miss Hartmann’s Texas roots, her tremendous name recognition here in the state, and her position with the Alliance of Christian Voters, her visit to Dallas was considered newsworthy.
Marcia had anticipated resistance from the station’s news director when she pitched her idea to him, but he hadn’t given her any flack at all. “Stress the political angle,” he said, “and if your story turns out well, we’ll send it along to the network.”
Network was the magic word. Marcia had stayed late at the station viewing archived footage of Amanda Tutt Hartmann and checking old files for information about her parents and brother. She discovered that Mary Millicent Tutt’s father had been an evangelist before her and that Jason Hartmann’s father had founded the family oil company. She’d found nothing on Gus Hartmann.
The PR director asked them to have a seat. “I’ll let Miss Hartmann know that you have arrived,” she said.
Marcia sat. The cameraman prowled around the room deciding where he wanted Marcia and Amanda to sit. Then he adjusted the brocade draperies and existing lights and set up his camera and the portable lighting that he’d brought along. That done, he joined Marcia on the sofa, and they waited. For almost an hour they waited.
When Amanda Hartmann finally entered the room, Marcia’s first thought was how lovely she was. And how gracefully she walked across the room. Marcia’s irritation at having been kept waiting dissipated somewhat, and her pulse began to race just a bit in anticipation. After all, Amanda Hartmann was one of the most famous people she had ever interviewed.
Amanda was wearing a cream-colored pants suit and a matching silk blouse with a softly draped neckline. Her blond hair was in a soft upsweep, her complexion lustrous, and her makeup flawless. And beyond her looks, Amanda had a calm, regal presence about her as she extended her hand and offered a greeting. Marcia felt a bit tongue-tied as she thanked her for agreeing to the interview and showed her where to sit and attached a tiny microphone to her lapel.
Marcia took her own seat across from Amanda and explained that her lead-in would be done during the broadcast, at which time she would explain about Amanda’s Texas roots and her illustrious parents. And she would announce that Amanda was holding a revival in Dallas that would begin tomorrow evening and would run for three nights.
Then Marcia nodded at the cameraman.
“When did you first know that you would follow in your mother’s footsteps?” she asked Amanda.
“I always knew,” Amanda said, her hands resting gracefully on the arms of the wing chair. “God has been in my life ever since I can remember, but I formally gave my life to Jesus when I was four years old. We had already moved to Washington, D.C., following my father’s election to Congress, and my mother no longer conducted regular Sunday services in her Glory Temple over on Taylor Street right here in downtown Dallas. But once or twice a year, she would hold weeklong revivals there. The building was torn down to make way for the Central Expressway, but I remember how beautiful it was. My father had brought me to the services that day as a surprise for Mother. When she looked down and saw her own little daughter kneeling in front of her, she cried out and lifted me in her arms and asked if I felt the love of our Savior the Lord Jesus Christ filling my heart. And I did,” Amanda said, touching her heart. “I still feel that love, and I have spent my life helping others to open their hearts to God’s love and saving grace.”
Marcia realized that this was a story Amanda had related countless times before, but she told it well. With that bit of background out of the way, Marcia moved on to her next question.
“Your mother is not only remembered as an evangelist but as the founder of a political action group, the Alliance of Christian Voters, which supports evangelical Christian candidates running for political office. And you apparently have no qualms about asking your followers to support these candidates and using the money donated to the Alliance to run political ads. How do you justify this practice in light of the constitutional dictum of separation of church and state?”
“The Alliance does not tell people whom they should vote for,” Amanda said, her voice even but firm. “We ask only that voters consider what is in a candidate’s heart before they support him or her with their prayers and their money and their votes. And if they choose to make a donation to the Alliance, we use that money to encourage voters to vote for evangelical Christians, but the Alliance does not support specific candidates.”
“But what if the most qualified candidate in a race is not an evangelical Christian?” Marcia asked.
“We believe that the nation can be best served by those who consider God’s wishes when they lead and legislate,” Amanda said.
“Many observers believe that your organization was an important factor in the election of our current president. Has he lived up to your expectations?”
Amanda looked directly at the camera and said, “He has grown in understanding as to the special role he plays in bringing goodness and hope to all Americans, and I am sure that in God’s eyes there is no one better qualified to lead our country.”
“So will he have your vote for a second term?” Marcia asked.
“Yes, he will,” Amanda said with a nod.
“I understand that you are expecting a full house at all three of your revivals here in the city, which begin tomorrow evening and will be held at the Temple of Praise.”
“Yes,” Amanda said. “The Temple of Praise is an inspiring house of worship.”
“Will you have your baby with you?”
Amanda beamed. “Definitely. I keep him with me as much as possible.”