"If you can sit her down, she has a talent for listening to a policy presentation that is so boring it would bring tears to your eyes," the aide said. "Then -- boom -- she will nail it down to its essence."
Palin often toted index cards when she walked out in front of the cameras, cribbing from them when the cameras were on her rivals. "She'd carry these cards with her like she was cramming for a test," Halcro said.
Her debate strategists also warned Palin not to stray onto such hot-button topics as creationism and same-sex marriage. On questionnaires sent to socially conservative activists, Palin backed "intelligent design" alternatives to the theory of evolution and opposed nontraditional unions. But she managed to avoid those subjects during most of the debates.
Palin remained so low-key that even her pollster, David Dittman, confessed he was unaware of her strong Christian conservative tenets. "I didn't know what she believed in," he said. "We never had any discussions about it, and from our polls, Alaska voters had the same impression."
By the final key televised debate in late October, Palin had grown used to the format, her aides and rivals recalled. Still using index cards, she was breezily confident in her back-and-forth with Halcro and former Alaska Gov. Tony Knowles.
Palin had ready answers on tough questions about social concerns such as native needs, abortion and assisted suicide. Sometimes her remarks seemed glib, but she was usually poised and sometimes kicked back at her opponents and questioners when they took the offensive.
Larry Persily, a panelist questioner in the campaign's final televised debate, said Palin flummoxed her rivals "like Muhammad Ali dancing around the ring." She avoided statements and tough questions that could have impaled her and repeatedly stung her opponents. And Palin, a former sportscaster, was easily the most comfortable in front of the camera. "She knows television," said Persily, who participated in other debates and has watched Palin closely for years. "She knows how to look at her interviewer."
Palin saved her most devastating riposte for the final question of the debate, when Persily asked the three candidates whether they would hire their opponents for a state job.
Knowles and Halcro offered halting jokes. But when it was Palin's turn, she pounced.
Smiling at Halcro, who recited reams of statistics by rote, Palin observed that the businessman "would make the most awesome statistician the state could ever look for."
As the debate audience laughed, Palin pivoted to Knowles, who had owned an Anchorage restaurant. "Do they need a chef down in Juneau?" Palin asked, smiling as she twisted the verbal knife. "I know Mr. Knowles is really good at that."
Two years on, Halcro and Knowles admit they are still baffled by how their mastery of policy and state issues was trumped by Palin's breezy confidence and feel-good answers.
"When you try to prove she doesn't know anything, you lose, because audiences are enraptured by her," Halcro said. "And her biting comments give you a sense of how competitive she is. Anybody who doesn't take her seriously does so at their peril."
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steve.braun @latimes.com
tom.hamburger @latimes.com
