Columnist Benjamin Grove: Families treated with kid gloves

Benjamin Grove

Friday, Oct. 26, 2001 | 4:57 a.m.

Benjamin Grove covers Washington, D.C. for the Sun. He can be reached at 202-628-3100, Ext. 269, or by e-mail at grove@lasvegassun.com.

WASHINGTON -- Since Sept. 11 congressional lawmakers have served up countless media interviews about terrorism, anthrax and the "new normal" in the nation's capital. They put on brave faces. They talk tough. They say what reporters want to hear.

But what do polished politicians really think about these weighty issues -- what do they say in quiet, private moments, long after hot camera lights are doused and annoying journalists disappear?

What do they tell their children at night?

Three Nevada lawmakers -- Reps. Jim Gibbons and Shelley Berkley, and Sen. John Ensign -- have children under the age of 21. Ensign has children whose ages are 3, 5 and 9. Berkley's sons are 16 and 19. And Gibbons, in addition to having children who are 22 and 25, has a 13-year-old son. (The dean of the Nevada delegation, Sen. Harry Reid, has five adult children.)

The lawmakers stay in touch with their families by phone during the week and fly 2,500 miles to be home on weekends. Their interactions offer a glimpse at parenting in troubled times.

Sen. John Ensign's 3- and 5-year-olds don't even know the word anthrax. They never saw the images of planes smashing into the World Trade Center. Still, kindergartner Siena is aware that some bad things are happening in America. So the senator and Siena pray together before bed, as they always have. They have their "snuggle time."

Ensign's 9-year-old son Trevor knows far more about terrorism. He knows dad works in Washington, a target for anthrax mailers and hijackers. When Ensign and Trevor kneel at bedtime, they pray for the nation, the president, and the U.S. military.

Several times, Ensign has burrowed inside the boy's head. Is any of this bugging you? Dad asks. Are you sleeping OK? But Trevor seems fine.

"You have to ask probing questions of a 9-year-old," Ensign said. "They're not going to volunteer a lot. I've tried to open him up to see if anything is bothering him. And there really doesn't seem to be."

Ensign explains to his children that he has a job to do, faraway in Washington. He reassures them he's OK. They accept that.

His overriding message: "You are to fear nothing and trust in God," Ensign said. "Take reasonable precautions, but don't worry all the time."

Ensign recommends parents turn off television news. He recommends parents talk about what it means to have a free society.

"If I give a child the freedom to ride a bicycle, I know that I cannot protect the child at every moment from injury. But part of being a kid is riding a bicycle. I want my kids to enjoy a full life. To live in fear would be to put a stop to that freedom."

Rep. Jim Gibbons, R-Nev., reassured his 13-year-old son, Jimmy, immediately after anthrax was detected on Capitol Hill on Oct. 15. Jimmy watches the news more than most children his age and is well aware of anthrax scares in Washington. He knows two postal workers died here.

So Gibbons explained to his son that more people die from influenza than anthrax, and that the risk of being exposed -- even in Washington -- is extremely low.

"I assured him that we are taking all the appropriate precautionary procedures," Gibbons said. "He's pretty level-headed."

Jimmy wants to be a doctor and is fascinated by anthrax. He despises the lifestyle of a congressman. He doesn't like that Dad is far away so much, especially these days.

"He hates (politics)," Gibbons said. "He understands it. He appreciates it. But he doesn't want it in his future."

Rep. Shelley Berkley, D-Nev., rarely talks terrorism with her 19-year-old son Max. He is busy being a college student at the University of Arizona, she said.

But Berkley talks to her 16-year-old son, Sam, every day about the latest development in Washington. He's a news junkie, she said. Sometimes, he knows more up-to-the-minute headlines than she does.

On the morning of Sept. 11 the high school sophomore was in class. His teacher encouraged him to use his cell phone to call mom for the latest news from Washington. She had evacuated the Capitol with everyone else and fled to her townhouse on Capitol Hill.

But Washington cellular phone networks were jammed with callers. They left each other messages.

Mother and son talked later that night. He wanted to know when she was coming home to Nevada. A few days later, she was on her way back for the weekend.

For the son of a congresswoman, Sam isn't overly worried about the terrorist and anthrax risks his mother faces in Washington. He's probably more focused on keeping his grades up and getting a car, she said. Those two things are linked, she said.

But Sam thinks about terrorists. He even says things that surprise his mom. He wants to "get bin Laden."

The two swap theories about what motivates the bad guys. Berkley fills him in on what she knows about the war overseas. She stresses that she has a job to do in Washington and that he has a job, too: school.

Sam wonders: are these anthrax cases escalating? How much worse will it get?

But on that point and others, Berkley -- known among reporters for having colorful responses for every question -- simply admits to her son that she doesn't have an answer.

"Sometimes I just tell him, 'I don't know,' " Berkley said. "I wouldn't want him to come back to me later and say, 'You told me something that turned out to be untrue.' "

In those moments, she is a mom -- who is also a politician -- with nothing to say.