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My name is Beverly Gelman Diamond, and if you live in Maryland, you likely saw my picture splashed across your local weekly in a compromising situation with senatorial candidate Michael Landau.
I’m not going to defend the kiss. It shouldn’t have happened. But if a movie camera had been rolling, you would have seen us both say exactly that approximately two seconds after the picture was taken.
And that is the entire truth. The article’s allegations of infidelity are fabricated. I can’t tell you for certain if it was my soon-to-be ex-husband in an attempt to blackmail me into quitting my work for the Landau campaign or if it was planted by Mr. Landau’s opponent to discredit him—though my now-estranged husband threatened both. But I do know this was an issue that should have been handled privately between the parties involved and potentially in court next month when the marriage is officially dissolved.
But, because it wasn’t, I want to set a few facts straight. The first is that I only joined the Landau campaign after catching my husband in a far more compromising situation. When he told me I couldn’t keep the house (and I didn’t know better, because who thinks that their marriage will end the way mine did?), I looked for a job. And I quickly realized that the field I knew best—if you know my maiden name, you know why—was politics.
Was I motivated by revenge? Yes. But that changed when I saw that Mr. Landau really is the best candidate for Maryland. I could have quit when my lawyer explained that my husband is legally required to support me. And I wouldn’t be writing this letter if I had, because nothing untoward would have happened. But the truth is that this campaign is more important than me being humiliated in the newspaper.
Next, I think it’s worth noting that Mr. Landau was willing not only to hire a woman, but to listen to her. Say what you will about a momentary lapse of judgment, but this is a man who wants to serve all people, not just those who look like him.
And finally, Mr. Landau is not someone who wants to play dirty to win. And believe me, we could. Maybe that’s not the best quality for someone going into politics, but I know that I would rather have someone I trust representing me. Someone who, if I were to bring an issue to his attention, would actually strive to address it, not just pay lip service for a vote. How many of his promises has Mr. Gibson kept?
Mr. Landau isn’t perfect. But who is? I prefer to judge a man on how he works to correct his faults rather than the facade of perfection he presents. And I hope, come November, that you will do the same.
Beverly Gelman Diamond
Campaign manager for Michael Landau
“Well?” I asked.
“I’m still reading,” Stuart said. I continued to pace until he looked up. “It’s good.”
“Michael?”
He took a few seconds to reply. “I think it’s incredibly well done,” he said cautiously.
“But?”
He shook his head. “I hate to make you do this.”
“Now you can cut that right out. You’re not making me do anything.”
He smiled wryly. “Fine, I don’t like having to be rescued by a knight in shining armor.”
“Think of it this way: I’m doing it to help the divorce go through without losing my kids.”
“Much better.”
Linda poked her head in the door. “Mr. Landau? There’s a Mrs. Walker on the phone for you.”
“Thank you,” he said. Stuart and I stood up to leave as Michael picked up the receiver. “Helen,” he said warmly. “Thank you for returning my call.”
“She’s a better secretary than you were,” Stuart said, gesturing to Linda with his shoulder.
“That’s because I was never a secretary.”
Stuart shook his head. “No. I don’t suppose you ever were.”
I brought Linda the letter. “Do you mind typing this up for me?”
“Of course, Mrs. Diamond.”
“Beverly,” I said. “We’re coworkers now.”
She smiled, and I patted her shoulder before I went back to my desk. Paul was in that morning, and I had asked him to bring the letter down to the Washington Post ’s office at lunch. Mailing would take extra days that we didn’t have to waste, especially if we wanted them to run it on Monday or Tuesday.