Chapter 1
From Wyoming to the White House: A Journey of Grit and Grace
Growing up in Wyoming, I never imagined I'd become the first Republican woman to serve as White House press secretary. Yet there I was in December 2008, six weeks before President George W. Bush left office, with a black eye from a Baghdad boom mic accident. The injury happened during the President's secret farewell trip to Iraq and Afghanistan-a journey so classified that only editors and one family member could know our whereabouts. When Afghan President Karzai gasped at my swollen face, I quipped, "Don't worry, Mr. President-you should see the other guy," making him laugh while President Bush rolled his eyes. That black eye remained for the administration's final weeks, changing from black to purple to blue to green to yellow. As press secretaries occasionally take metaphorical black eyes for their bosses, I had literally "taken a boom mic for the President." Yet even on my worst day, working for the Bush Administration was the best time of my life-a journey that began with a seven-year-old girl standing on a milk box in Denver, holding her father's flag and declaring, "One day I am going to work in the White House."
Chapter 2
Wide-Open Spaces: Roots That Shaped a Worldview
My story begins with my grandmother Lena Marie von Pertz, who left Germany at fourteen to come to America. My maternal grandmother Dorothy was orphaned during the Depression and sent to Wyoming, where she met my grandfather Thomas Brooks. While he fought in WWII, she worked as a "Rosie the Riveter." After the war, my grandfather built several successful businesses in Rawlins, Wyoming, teaching my mother the importance of firm handshakes, eye contact, and genuine interest in people.
My father climbed quickly in human resources at Western Farm Bureau Life Insurance Company, moving our family from Wyoming to Denver. Everyone at his office liked working for him, and he knew everyone from the boss to the mailroom staff. Though corporate America treated him well, he eventually pursued his dream of being his own boss by opening a neighborhood convenience store, which unfortunately couldn't survive the 2008 economic downturn.
In third grade, Dad started a tradition that shaped my future: I had to read both Denver newspapers before he got home and select articles to discuss at dinner. He'd read them and ask questions that helped me develop persuasive arguments-skills that proved invaluable later. As a voracious news consumer, he subscribed to every political magazine and watched all network news broadcasts. We planned Sundays around church and political talk shows. Dad got me hooked on news, which was definitely a good thing.
My sister, Angela Leigh, arrived when I was four. Though I was initially upset about missing school the day she came home, we grew close despite my occasional teasing. Angie excels during crises, immediately going into "how can I help" mode. Most remarkably, she's never shown envy of my success and genuinely celebrates others' achievements-a quality I try to emulate.
When I was seven in 1979, my parents took me to Washington D.C. Upon returning home, I stood on our milk box with my dad's flag and declared, "One day I am going to work in the White House." I believe every parent should take their children to D.C. twice-once around age seven for the magic of it, and again at fifteen to understand our history and future. It gives them a taste of democracy, and who knows where that early experience might lead?
Chapter 3
School Years: Finding My Voice and Direction
As the first granddaughters in the family, my sister and I were raised with high expectations. My dad told us we could be whatever we wanted, and I proudly wore a yellow t-shirt declaring "ANYTHING BOYS CAN DO GIRLS CAN DO BETTER" until it was threadbare.
Fourth grade brought serious challenges when Denver implemented school integration through busing. My 45-minute commute took me to a school where I was one of only five white students in my grade. The bullying was relentless-even bus drivers called me "little white princess" and threatened me if I told my parents. I began doing other students' homework and letting them cheat off my tests to avoid their wrath. This experience taught me to be hyper-aware of others' moods and to anticipate conflict, skills that later served me professionally.
My parents eventually resolved the situation by moving to Parker, Colorado. This experience formed the basis of my support for school choice-my parents had the means to move to a better school district, but many families don't have that option.
Junior high was confusing-I was sort of popular but didn't quite fit in. I joined student council, made the cheerleading team, and worked on yearbook. High school was better. I was essentially the Tracy Flick of my school-student body president who implemented flexible scheduling for extra tutoring and organized school dances. My greatest passion was the speech team, which I now think of when appearing on The Five.
Though I wanted to attend a large university, my father insisted I visit the smaller University of Southern Colorado. Despite my initial pouting, I discovered it was perfect-I received a four-year scholarship for joining the speech team, thrived in mass communications classes, and worked at the public television station. After graduating with honors, I pursued a master's degree at the University of Illinois Springfield's exclusive public affairs reporting program, where I encountered media bias against conservatives during my CBS affiliate internship.
Chapter 4
Love at First Flight: The Meeting That Changed Everything
At twenty-five in 1997, despite having a good job as spokesperson for the House Energy and Power Subcommittee chairman, living debt-free in my own apartment, and enjoying a solid social circle, I experienced what I later recognized as a quarter-life crisis. Though outwardly successful, I felt stuck professionally with limited advancement options and personally frustrated by Washington's disappointing dating scene. My church community at Reformation Lutheran provided grounding through volunteer work tutoring underprivileged children and regular Bible studies.
On August 17, 1997, after nearly missing my flight from Denver to D.C., I boarded just ahead of the last passenger-Peter McMahon, who would become my husband a year later. In his British-accented version of our meeting, he spotted me walking down the jetway, hoped we'd sit together, and was delighted when we did. During our conversation, I discovered he shared my political views, had grown up with a military father, lost his mother young, and possessed qualities I admired-loyalty, dependability, and worldly experience that matched my travel aspirations. Despite his bringing a Filet-O-Fish on the plane (which I found disgusting), we exchanged contact information before landing.
Nine months after meeting on that fateful flight, I moved to England to be with Peter. Our whirlwind romance included ten visits from him to the U.S. and two trips for me to the U.K. To ease my concerns about financial dependency, Peter thoughtfully bought me an open-ended return ticket. I left my Capitol Hill job in May 1998, settling in Lytham St. Annes, a dreary northern village near Peter's parents.
Despite initial excitement about my newfound freedom, I soon grew restless. I filled my days cooking vegetarian meals, reading historical novels, taking fitness classes, volunteering with a disabled boy, and mastering pub quiz trivia. The highlight was getting Henry, our Vizsla puppy who became my constant companion as I adjusted to life abroad.
After our elopement at a British registry office and honeymoon in Santorini, we moved to San Diego in early 1999, bringing our six-month-old puppy but little else. We had no jobs, no transportation, and nowhere to live-just dreams and a bit of borrowed money. I bounced between unfulfilling PR jobs while Peter started his business. Despite trying to embrace the Southern California lifestyle, I couldn't shake my longing for Washington politics.
Seeing my restlessness, Peter staged an intervention with a whiteboard, making me list what I wanted in a career and assign values to each item. The verdict was clear: anything in D.C. would make me happier than staying in San Diego. Despite my hesitations about another move, Peter encouraged me to pursue my passion. I contacted my friend Mindy at the Justice Department in August 2001, planning a job-hunting trip for mid-September. Then 9/11 happened, and suddenly my skills were needed. Within weeks, I was back in D.C. working at the DOJ, handling non-terrorism cases while waiting for Peter and Henry to join me.
Chapter 5
Stepping Up to the Podium: From Deputy to Press Secretary
Back in Washington by October 2001, I temporarily moved into my old English basement apartment with the Sayles family on Capitol Hill. After starting at the Justice Department in December, I quickly adapted to being a government spokesperson, handling environmental, anti-trust, and tax cases. My willingness to take on unglamorous environmental cases caught the attention of Jim Connaughton at the White House Council on Environmental Quality, leading to my promotion as director of communications at CEQ.
Working closely with the White House press team under Dan Bartlett, I became the go-to person for environmental issues. After over two years at CEQ, including through the 2004 election, I was ready for a new challenge. Just as I was about to accept a Treasury Department position, Scott McClellan offered me the deputy press secretary job-my dream opportunity. I started in the White House press office on Inauguration Day of the President's second term.
The day I planned to resign from the White House turned out to be the day I learned I'd become the next press secretary. By summer 2007, after two-and-a-half years as deputy press secretary, I was exhausted from the relentless schedule-rising at 4 a.m., working until 10 p.m., and often waking in the middle of the night unable to sleep. During a vacation to Oregon while Peter participated in the Hood to Coast relay race, I finally made my decision to leave. Peter's jubilant reaction-"Hey, everyone, I'm going to get my wife back!"-confirmed it was the right choice. But the next morning, when I stayed after the communications meeting to resign, Ed Gillespie stunned me by offering me the press secretary position instead.
My predecessor Tony Snow was extraordinary-a man of remarkable character and wit with possibly the smallest ego in Washington. Unlike most DC power players who decorated offices with photos of themselves alongside VIPs, Tony's desk displayed only three 8x10 frames of his children. Despite needing to maintain weight during chemotherapy, eating pancakes with sausage smothered in maple syrup for breakfast and drinking three large vanilla lattes daily, he remained thin. When he left the White House, everyone lined up outside to cheer his departure, many of us crying alongside him. Less than a year later, he died on July 12, 2008, after a valiant fight against cancer.
When Ed Gillespie offered me the press secretary position, I didn't immediately accept. Despite recognizing the honor and significance of crossing from deputy to press secretary after years as a "bridesmaid," something bothered me about the circumstances. I knew taking the role would dramatically change my future career prospects and make me only the second woman (and first Republican woman) to serve as press secretary. But President Bush's impromptu remark during the announcement-"I chose Dana because I know she can handle you all"-gave me the confidence I needed.
Chapter 6
Behind the Scenes with President Bush: Character Revealed
During a pivotal 2008 Middle East trip, I witnessed President Bush's remarkable leadership during a dinner at Israeli Prime Minister Olmert's residence. After pleasantries, Bush firmly addressed the table: "If anyone here is waiting in the tall grass to attack this good man when he makes a tough decision, tell me now. I will not waste my country's capital on you if you aren't serious." When silence followed, he brilliantly redirected the conversation, asking each cabinet member about their family origins. As they shared stories from Iraq, Ukraine, Poland and elsewhere, connections formed among officials who'd forgotten their shared purpose.
News of American casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan overwhelmed me emotionally. Though I maintained composure when addressing the press, I often had to suppress my feelings just to speak about the fallen. The hardest days were when President Bush visited the wounded or families of the fallen soldiers.
On one visit to Walter Reed, I witnessed the President award a Purple Heart to an unconscious Marine with his family present. When the Marine suddenly opened his eyes during the ceremony, the President rushed to his bedside, cupping the Marine's face in his hands. Tears streaming down his face, the President asked for the award to be read again. Sadly, the Marine died six days later.
During the same visit, a grieving Caribbean mother screamed at the President, demanding to know why her child lay dying instead of his. He stood there absorbing her anguish without rushing away. Later on Marine One, he quietly acknowledged, "That mama sure was mad at me. And I don't blame her a bit," as a single tear rolled down his cheek.
As a new deputy press secretary, I was assigned to accompany the press corps to Europe where President Bush would meet with Russian President Vladimir Putin. When I mentioned reporters would likely ask about press freedoms in Russia, Putin retorted, "Why would I answer any questions about press freedoms in my country, when you just fired that newsman?" He was referring to Dan Rather. President Bush explained that private companies make those decisions in America, not the government, revealing Putin's fundamental misunderstanding of how free press operates in democratic societies.
The most important lesson I learned from President Bush was about forgiveness. When Scott McClellan published his tell-all book critical of the President, I was devastated. When the book was released in May 2008, the media devoured it. I was uncharacteristically anxious about handling press questions. Later that morning, President Bush called me to the Oval Office and surprised me by saying, "I'd like you to try to forgive him." When I asked if I could throw Scott under the bus first, he firmly said no. The President's suggestion of forgiveness freed me like a weight being lifted.
Working for the President created amazing opportunities for my family. After my parents' divorce in 2000, my relationship with my dad had grown distant. By 2008, he still hadn't visited me at the White House. When Prime Minister Berlusconi of Italy came for a dinner, I invited my dad instead of my husband. The President noticed my dad on the guest list and told me, "I am so proud of you," understanding the significance of this reunion. That evening, the President gave me back my relationship with my father-an invaluable gift I'll always cherish.
Chapter 7
The Five: Finding My Voice in a New Arena
The day we celebrated the launch of The Five, Bob Beckel nearly died choking on a shrimp, saved only by Eric Bolling's quick action. Fox News CEO Roger Ailes had envisioned an ensemble cast with diverse backgrounds discussing daily news like families would at dinner. When Glenn Beck left the network, the 5 p.m. slot opened up, giving Roger the chance to try his concept.
The Five surprised everyone with instant success, maintaining most of Beck's audience while attracting younger viewers. We flew by the seat of our pants and laughed more than any other cable news show. The choking incident happened at Del Frisco's when Bob turned purple after swallowing a massive shrimp. Eric vaulted across the table and performed the Heimlich maneuver, saving Bob's life. That night on air, Bob thanked Eric, and I think of that day as when we truly became a team.
The show saved me too, breaking the cycle of burnout in my post-White House life. I had been juggling too many responsibilities-my business, speaking gigs, nonprofit work, and Fox News contributing. The Five finally allowed me to emerge from behind my press secretary persona and be myself on camera.
We mix up topics on The Five, covering politics, culture, and sports. Everyone pitches ideas, but producer Porter Berry makes the final call on what makes the rundown. We don't discuss show content before meeting in the greenroom, where conversation stays casual about family and current events.
I overprepare like the Lisa Simpson of the group (while Greg is Bart), reading extensively and consulting Washington contacts. I avoid talking points and conventional wisdom, preferring to develop original perspectives during my walks to the office. With only about seven minutes per segment split between five people, comments must be concise.
The Five works because we're an unlikely crew with diverse backgrounds and strong personalities. Our commercial breaks can be as intense and hilarious as the on-air segments-sometimes arguments spill over, other times we're explaining innuendo to each other or asking Bob if he "really believes" what he just said.
When I accepted the offer to join The Five and move to New York, I worried about taking a different direction and limiting my involvement in charitable work and public relations. But Fox News actually helped me expand my reach-in 2013, when Peter and I visited Mercy Ships in Congo, Fox aired our amateur footage multiple times, reaching millions of viewers.
Five fans know that I love my dog Jasper and that he drives Bob crazy. Bob's turned making fun of Jasper into a daily rant: "That damned dog!" Before Jasper, there was Henry-my Hungarian Vizsla who was nearly fourteen and in failing health when we moved to New York. After our move to Manhattan, Henry's health deteriorated rapidly. We took him for one last trip to a dog beach, where he briefly regained his spirit in the ocean air. Days later, we had to say goodbye at an emergency vet clinic.
The night Henry died, I received a call from Greta Van Susteren who advised me to get another dog immediately. Though hesitant about managing a dog in Manhattan, I followed her advice. We called a Vizsla breeder in Maryland who reserved a male puppy we named Jasper before he was even born. Jasper became a social media star after appearing on The Five, gaining fans nationwide. President Bush even painted his portrait-my most treasured possession.
Chapter 8
Take It from Me: Career Wisdom Worth Sharing
My college speech team coach Shawnalee Whitney gave me one of the best pieces of advice I've ever received. During a competition where I unexpectedly made the finals and was nervous, she told me: "It's okay to have butterflies in your stomach, as long as you make them fly in formation."
This visualization helped me channel nervous energy into enthusiasm rather than anxiety. I learned to ride the waves of fear when speaking before judges, and even won that tournament. Today, I still get nervous before speeches or TV appearances, but I've learned that adrenaline is essential for a good performance-it alerts my brain to be ready.
To help others succeed professionally, I recommend several quick fixes. First, find your strong voice by eliminating up-talking that makes statements sound like questions. This verbal habit suggests immaturity and lacks seriousness in professional settings. The solution involves breathing from your power center at the top of your diaphragm. Also, ban exclamation points in professional communications, as they suggest emotional instability rather than steadiness. Keep emails rare, spare, and specific with clear subject lines. Dress appropriately-no UGG boots shuffling around the office-and never chew gum at work.
Professional success requires developing positive habits that strengthen relationships and demonstrate character. These include sharing credit generously, practicing two-way loyalty, taking blame for your team's mistakes, and defending others even when they don't know it. President Bush demonstrated this when American hostages were rescued from FARC in Colombia. Though I wanted to share colorful details about his reaction, he insisted, "I don't want any credit. Make sure that President Uribe gets all the credit-he needs it more than I do."
Finding work-life balance is the million-dollar question. When starting your career, work should be your life-as Gutfeld says, "the bottom rungs of the ladder are supposed to be uncomfortable." I've learned to manage my schedule rather than letting it rule me. This means saying no to requests, protecting morning hours for show preparation, making time for exercise in phone-free environments, and strategically scheduling mentoring meetings between shows to ensure they don't run long.
We all talk negatively to ourselves, constantly feeling we're not good enough at anything. When I became press secretary after Tony Snow, I felt deeply inferior. On his last day, Tony made me look him in the eye and said, "You are better at this than you think you are." Two weeks later, I realized what he meant-I didn't need to be him, I could just be myself. Once I embraced that, everything fell into place.
Chapter 9
Civility, Lost and Found: Building Bridges in a Divided World
In January 2009, days before President Bush would hand power to President-elect Obama, I witnessed a historic gathering: five Presidents together in the Oval Office. Former Presidents Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton, George H.W. Bush joined President Bush and President-elect Obama for lunch in the private dining room. Despite their political differences and past criticisms of each other, they stood united in a display of presidential honor, respect and civility-a reminder of American tradition that transcends politics.
America has become a nation of arguments. Despite being so blessed, we've gone from confident world leaders to a people who bicker about everything. Record numbers of Americans distrust the government, and our political parties are so entrenched we can barely agree on Mother's Day resolutions. As government grows larger and less effective, people feel powerless, breeding frustration.
Being civil starts with personal choice. As Charles Krauthammer said, manners are the keys to civility-without them, we're hopeless. Restoring civility requires changing bad habits: being more congenial, communicating better, and anticipating concerns. These improvements benefit all relationships, from personal to professional. Civility isn't extinct; it's a choice we make multiple times daily.
Religion and politics shouldn't be conversation starters in polite company. As a Republican in New York, I'm cautious about revealing my profession when meeting new people. I don't evangelize conservative principles socially-I do that professionally. I've learned to handle awkward encounters with "The Look" when people insult my former boss or Fox News.
Criticism is inevitable if you're doing anything interesting, and social media has made it immediate and often vicious. When criticized, avoid defensiveness-like playground bullies, critics want a reaction so they can attack again. Keep your head high, which drives them crazy while making them look small. Consider whether there's anything to learn from feedback, but if you must respond, do so with grace and humor.
You can be assertive without being aggressive by finding a pleasant, gracious tone that remains persuasive. As press secretary and on "The Five," I learned to choose productive responses over combative ones, using phrases like "I understand why you're asking the question that way, but..." These approaches work well in office settings too. Instead of showing frustration through body language, maintain a poker face and summarize what the other person said before responding. Once voices are raised, productivity is lost. To win a heated argument, keep your cool.
Vice President Joe Biden has accumulated friends rather than losing them throughout his career in Washington. In 2010, when Biden invited the newly confirmed Broadcasting Board of Governors for swearing-in, I was nervous about returning to the White House as a Republican nominee under President Obama. My concerns vanished when Biden enthusiastically greeted me with "Where's that Dana Perino? Oh, there she is!" He hugged me and said, "I watch you every day on TV. You're fantastic! Won't you come over to our side?" I replied, "Well, sir, I listened to everything you say, too... so that I can make fun of it later." He howled with laughter. That day I learned why most everyone in Washington likes Joe Biden-he's one of the most personable and friendly politicians you'll ever meet.
Chapter 10
One More Thing: Lessons for the Long Haul
Of all the advice I've received, Margaret Spellings telling me to "put my big girl panties on and deal with it" stands out-a reminder to stop worrying and embrace opportunity. Senator John Warner once noticed my shyness at a press dinner and advised me to stand proudly when introduced: "Flash them a big smile and wave-give them a reason to applaud. They want to be happy for you." Though unnatural for me, I followed his advice and gradually became more comfortable in the spotlight.
My mentors have helped me achieve what I now crave: "productive serenity." Guided by the Serenity Prayer, I work at being actively calm, generous, dignified, and gracious-sharp but not snappy, tough but not aggressive, understanding but not a pushover. A Buddhist saying became my personal doctrine: "Say little. But when you speak, utter gentle words that touch the heart. Be truthful. Express kindness. Abstain from vanity. This is the way."
On President Bush's final day in office, January 20, 2009, I visited the Oval Office one last time. The President told me he could look himself in the eye and say he'd been true to his principles. Later at Andrews Air Force Base, he kissed my forehead before boarding the plane to Texas. Everything was ending, but so much was beginning as well.
Why am I a conservative? I'm often asked this with disbelief, as if liberalism is natural and conservatism requires explanation. My path to conservatism was meandering. Growing up around mostly conservative or libertarian views, I admired Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush. After college, I initially hid my conservatism, even wondering "What is wrong with me?" But after reading Peggy Noonan's book, I found my ideological footing and gained confidence in my beliefs.
I'm conservative because it demands more than easy answers. I gravitate toward facts, logic and reality, whereas liberalism seems based on theory, feelings and fantasy. Conservatism gives me freedom within a framework of principles. I'll listen to arguments and can be persuaded by proof, not sanctimony. Being conservative doesn't mean rejecting compromise; my nature is to seek agreement and find common ground. Conservatism is inherently compassionate-conservatives are charitable, forgiving, and always more willing to laugh at themselves. Being a conservative has given me clarity and freedom-my mind is free; therefore, my heart is lighter. And that's a gift from God that I believe we have an obligation to share with others around the world. Besides, I love to be right. Just ask Peter.
