But make no mistake, our hand sanitizer has no floral scent. It smells like embalming fluid and has a slight burn to it. After application one is tempted to make sure the skin is still intact. But it surpassed CDC guidelines and resolved the anxiety people had about running short of hand sanitizer.
Of course, in New York you get criticized for everything. There were complaints that it was an exploitation of the prison population to have inmates making hand sanitizer. I agree inmates are paid too little for the work they perform, and I have supported a higher minimum wage for inmates. But the fact that the prisoners were already making hand sanitizer and had been for years fell on deaf ears. The fact that the prison industry program was voluntary also fell on deaf ears. But as I have learned, an executive must make a decision that is right even if not everyone agrees. It is a difficult balance to do the right thing rather than the popular thing when your position is dependent on support of the people. The only path and rationale that I have found is to always assume that you are serving your last term and that what matters most is your legacy of success and integrity. There are no great political leaders who have followed the course of political expediency. There may be long-serving politicians who followed the path of political expediency, but none whom I would call great.
—
TRICKY CURVEBALLS COULD be thrown at us at any moment, making an impossible situation even more difficult: For instance, Rick Cotton, the executive director of the Port Authority, tested positive for COVID. Rick, like me, is not a young man, and I had asked him to keep an eye on the airports when the crisis first started unfolding. Rick’s agency, the Port Authority, has administrative responsibility for the airport facilities themselves, even though the federal Department of Homeland Security and Customs and Border Protection had screening jurisdiction. I felt personally responsible for Rick getting infected because he was there night and day at the airports under my instruction. He was at home and doing fine, but it was still scary, although a photograph of him in his silk bathrobe snapped by a photographer lurking nearby when he opened his door to accept a delivery ended up gracing the pages of the New York Post and lightened the moment. True to form, even with COVID, Rick looked good. Nonetheless, I was asking people to literally risk their lives.
As we could see the oncoming wave of infections slowly building, I boiled down my role to two parts. I had to communicate with the people of the state the scope of the problem and the plan forward. And I had to marshal a government that could actually execute the plan. The last time government needed to rise to a challenge of this magnitude was when the federal government had to retool the economy to produce tanks, missiles, bombs, and guns and draft an army for World War II. Government doesn’t do big, bold things anymore. It doesn’t even try. The lack of national unity and the lack of a competent government go hand in hand. One precedes the other.
This was beyond the scope of a state government and would have been highly challenging even for a competent federal government. The systems and functions necessary to fight a virus don’t exist. There is no adequate operational public health system in this country. Large-scale testing for a disease and contact tracing exist only in textbooks. No government in this country is capable of building new hospital structures on an emergency basis. We don’t have the manufacturing companies to make new medical supplies. Government is not equipped to develop and build large systems quickly. But, I told myself, we are where we are. The moment is here, and we will fight the battle with what we have.
I assumed and hoped the federal government would do its job. I at least assumed the federal government would try to help. I prepared a small note card on one of the first days that I carried with me at all times. It reminded me of the four priorities I must focus on: First, communicate with the public and develop a relationship of trust so they accept and follow the plan. Second, focus on government operations necessary to execute the plan. Third, get as much help from the federal government as possible. Fourth, keep my head focused and in the game, and stay positive. It all sounded so easy at the time.
MARCH 10 | 63 NEW CASES | 14 HOSPITALIZED | 0 DEATHS
“When you politically interfere with science, that’s when you tend to make a mistake.”
I CALLED INTO MY CONFERENCE ROOM the leadership of the Wadsworth Center, Dr. Michael Ryan, Dr. Jill Taylor, other health department officials, and members of my executive team including Melissa, Gareth, and Simonida. I began the conversation with my usual salutation: “Pardon my ignorance, but I don’t know what I’m talking about and I have to be educated. So excuse me if I ask simple or stupid questions.” First question, “What is large-scale testing?” The blank faces let me know that we were in trouble.
Wadsworth had done groundbreaking work over the years. However, the lab does not do high volume or mass testing, and that was exactly what we needed.
“This doesn’t work,” I told the team assembled around the big table that was in my father’s conference room as well. When I became governor, I asked the Office of General Services if they had any idea where my father’s conference table was. They found it in a warehouse in Schenectady.
The conference room is filled with other things that are meaningful to me. There is a humidor gifted to me by President Clinton and a piece of original terra-cotta from the New
