
Photographer Christopher Anderson.
Susie Wiles, JD
Vance, and the “Junkyard Dogs”: The White House Chief of Staff on Trump’s
Second Term (Part 1 of 2)
Throughout the first year of Donald Trump’s second
administration, Vanity Fair writer Chris Whipple has
interviewed Wiles amid each moment of crisis. This insider’s account joins a
portfolio of portraits for an unflinching, up-close look at power—and peril.
On the
morning of November 4, 2025, an off-year Election Day, White House chief of
staff Susie Wiles was meeting in the
Oval Office with the president and his top advisers, men she calls her “core
team”: Vice President JD Vance, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, and Stephen Miller, deputy chief of staff.
The agenda was twofold: ending the congressional filibuster and forcing
Venezuelan president Nicolás Maduro from power. As she related it later,
President Donald Trump was holding forth on the filibuster when Wiles stood up
and started for the door. Trump eyed her. “Is this an emergency, that you have
to leave?” he demanded. It was nothing of the sort—but Wiles left Trump
guessing. She replied: “It’s an emergency. It doesn’t involve you.” With that,
according to Wiles, she departed the Oval.
Wiles, wearing dark pants and a plain black leather top,
met me in her office with a smile and a handshake. Over sandwiches from the
White House Mess, we talked about the challenges Trump faces. Throughout the
past year, Wiles and I have spoken regularly about almost everything: the
contents, and consequences, of the Epstein
files; ICE’s brutal mass deportations; Elon Musk’s evisceration of USAID; the
controversial deployment of the National Guard to US cities;
the demolition of the East Wing;
the lethal strikes on boats allegedly being piloted by drug smugglers—acts many
have called war crimes; Trump’s physical and mental health; and whether he will defy the 22nd Amendment and try to stay on
for a third term.
“I’m not
an enabler. I’m also not a bitch,” said Susie Wiles. “I guess time will tell
whether I’ve been effective.”
Most senior White House officials parse their words and
speak only on background. But over many on-the-record conversations, Wiles
answered almost every question I put to her.
We often spoke on Sundays after church. Wiles, an
Episcopalian, calls herself “Catholic lite.” One time we spoke while she was
doing her laundry in her Washington, DC, rental. Trump, she told me, “has an
alcoholic’s personality.” Vance’s conversion from Never Trumper to MAGA
acolyte, she said, has been “sort of political.” The vice president, she added,
has been “a conspiracy theorist for a decade.” Russell Vought, architect of the
notorious Project 2025 and head of the Office of Management and Budget, is “a
right-wing absolute zealot.” When I asked her what she thought of Musk
reposting a tweet about public sector workers killing millions under Hitler,
Stalin, and Mao, she replied: “I think that’s when he’s microdosing.” (She says
she doesn't have first-hand knowledge.)
Wiles is the most powerful person in Trump’s White House
other than the president himself; unlike any chief of staff before her, she is
a woman.


“So many decisions of great consequence are being made on
the whim of the president. And as far as I can tell, the only force that can
direct or channel that whim is Susie,” a former Republican chief told me. “In
most White Houses, the chief of staff is first among a bunch of equals. She may
be first with no equals.”“I don’t think there’s anybody in the world right now
that could do the job that she’s doing,” Rubio told me. He called her bond with
Trump “an earned trust.” Vance described Wiles’s approach to the chief’s job.
“There is this idea that people have that I think was very common in the first
administration,” he told me, “that their objective was to control the president
or influence the president, or even manipulate the president because they had
to in order to serve the national interest. Susie just takes the diametrically
opposite viewpoint, which is that she’s a facilitator, that the American people
have elected Donald Trump. And her job is to actually facilitate his vision and
to make his vision come to life.”
It’s been a busy year. Trump and his team have expanded the
limits of presidential power, unilaterally declared war on drug cartels,
imposed tariffs according to whim, sealed the
southern border, achieved a ceasefire and hostage
release in Gaza, and pressured NATO allies into increasing
their defense spending.


At the same time, Trump has waged war on his political
enemies; pardoned the January 6 rioters, firing
nearly everyone involved in their investigation and prosecution; sued media
companies into multimillion-dollar settlements; indicted multiple government
officials he perceives as his foes; and pressured universities to toe his line.
He’s redefined the way presidents behave—verbally abusing women, minorities,
and almost anyone who offends him. Charlie Kirk’s assassination in
September turbocharged Trump’s campaign of revenge and retribution. Critics
have compared this moment to a Reichstag fire, a modern version of Hitler’s
exploitation of the torching of Berlin’s parliament.
Historically, the White House chief of staff is the
president’s gatekeeper, confidant, and executor of his agenda. That often means
telling the president hard truths. Upon taking office, Ronald Reagan was
hell-bent on reforming Social Security. James A. Baker III explained to him
that cutting Social Security benefits was the third rail of American politics.
Reagan pivoted to tax cuts—and was ultimately reelected in a landslide. Donald
Rumsfeld, Gerald Ford’s chief, explained: “The White House chief of staff is
the one person besides his wife…who can look him right in the eye and say,
‘This is not right. You simply can’t go down that road.’ ”
Just how
far will Trump veer off the guardrails of democracy?
The question around Wiles’s tenure under Trump has been
whether she will do anything to restrain him. A better question: Does she want to?
T-MINUS
9 DAYS
January 11, 2025
Our first conversation took place little more than a week
before the inauguration. Wiles called from the road, en route from Mar-a-Lago to her home in Ponte
Vedra, Florida, in her BMW 530. She was in high spirits, basking in Trump’s
victory. Not that she’d ever doubted the outcome. “At no point did I think we
would not win,” she said. “Not in my core, not in my sleep, not in my rational
mind.”
In
Wiles’s view, RFK Jr.’s shock treatment of HHS is warranted. “He pushes the
envelope—some would say too far. But I say in order to get back to the middle,
you have to push it too far.”
But on that January day, as his second inauguration
approached, Wiles was determined to show the world a new Trump. “I told Hakeem Jeffries, ‘You will see a
different Donald Trump when he gets there,’ ’’ she recounted to me. “I’ve not
seen him throw anything, I’ve not seen him scream. I didn’t see that really
horrible behavior that people talk about and that I actually experienced years
ago.”
Wiles’s childhood had prepared her for difficult men. She
was raised in Stamford, Connecticut, and Saddle River, New Jersey, the only
daughter and eldest of three siblings. It was her famous father, Pat Summerall,
who put Wiles on a path to the pinnacle of political power. Summerall had been
a kicker for the New York Giants and afterward parlayed his knowledge and
mellifluous baritone into fame and fortune as the “voice of the NFL.”
At her father’s knee, Susie Summerall became a football
aficionado, rattling off win-loss records and player stats like a miniature
John Madden—an ability she says Trump shares. “The president, it turns out, is
a junkie of that and is like a statistical savant,” she said. “And I remember a
lot of it.” As a child, Susie also absorbed the zeitgeist of her father’s 1970s
Manhattan. “Much of what Donald Trump remembers about the New York of the ’70s
I lived through with my dad,” she said. “So when he talks about Frank Sinatra’s
bodyguard, I know that name.” Steve Witkoff, Trump’s real estate friend turned
special envoy, says Wiles and Trump are creatures of that same bygone era:
“That whole world of the Copacabana and Sammy Davis Jr. and all, those are
things that he wants to talk about.”


The most valuable gift Susie got from her dad was
hard-earned. Summerall was an absentee father and an alcoholic, and Wiles
helped her mother stage interventions to get him into treatment. (Summerall was
sober for 21 years before his death in 2013.) “Alcoholism does bad things to
relationships, and so it was with my dad and me,” Wiles said.
“Some
clinical psychologist that knows one million times more than I do will dispute
what I’m going to say. But high-functioning alcoholics or alcoholics in
general, their personalities are exaggerated when they drink. And so I’m a
little bit of an expert in big personalities.” Wiles said Trump has “an
alcoholic’s personality.” He “operates [with] a view that there’s nothing he
can’t do. Nothing, zero, nothing.”
Susie Summerall got her first taste of politics in the late
1970s, interning as a college student in the Capitol Hill office of Jack Kemp,
the New York congressman, who’d been a Giant with her father. Then, at 23, she
landed a job in the Reagan White House as a scheduler, where she watched his
chief of staff Baker in action. She married a GOP advance man, Lanny Wiles, and
in 1984 they moved to Ponte Vedra. Wiles wanted to “start a family and a life
outside politics.” But in 1988, Baker lured Wiles back to work with Dan Quayle,
George H.W. Bush’s running mate. The couple had two daughters, Katie and
Caroline. Wiles plunged into state politics—and over the next two decades
became a formidable political strategist, serving as chief of staff to the
mayor of Jacksonville, Florida, running Rick Scott’s gubernatorial campaign,
and, briefly, leading Jon Huntsman’s campaign for president.
In 2015, Wiles was invited to Trump Tower to meet the real
estate tycoon turned presidential candidate. The star of The Apprentice couldn’t believe he
was talking to the daughter of the great Pat Summerall. “He’s said it a million
times,” Wiles said. “ ‘I judge people by their genes.’ ” Wiles thought Trump
was interesting and smart. “And they called me one night and said, ‘We’re
serious about Florida now. Would you like to co-chair our leadership team?’ And
I said, ‘Yeah, I would.’ ”
“I had
become disenchanted with what we now call traditional Republicans,” she
recalled.
Wiles’s relationship with Trump almost ended at his Miami
golf club one night in the fall of 2016. Unhappy with a poll showing him doing
worse than expected in Florida, Trump berated her in front of a gaggle of
cronies. “It was a horrific hour-plus at midnight,” Wiles told me. “And I don’t
think I’ve seen him that angry since. He was ranting and raving. And I didn’t
know whether to argue back or whether to be stoic. What I really wanted to do
was cry.”


Wiles steeled herself. “I finally said, ‘You know Mr.
Trump, if you want somebody to set their hair on fire and be crazy, I’m not
your girl. But if you want to win this state, I am. It’s your choice.’ ” Wiles
walked out. Trump turned on a dime. “Lo and behold, he called me every day.”
Wiles never looked back. Trump carried Florida, the first big prize in his
stunning 2016 upset over Hillary Clinton.
Then, in a fateful turn of events, Wiles went to work in
2018 for an ambitious gubernatorial candidate named Ron DeSantis. (Trump urged DeSantis,
then his protégé, to hire her.) She led the underdog candidate to victory. But
afterward, DeSantis turned on her, denouncing Wiles publicly and bad-mouthing
her privately. To this day, Wiles doesn’t know what triggered the governor’s
vendetta. “I think he thought I was getting too much attention, which is
ironic,” she told me. “I don’t ever seek attention.”
George
W. Bush himself had gotten wind of the gutting of PEPFAR. He called Rubio to
express alarm, according to a former aide close to Bush. “He’s been appalled by
Trump from the beginning.”
Wiles landed on her feet, organizing Florida for Trump’s
2020 reelection bid. Trump had rescued Wiles, recently divorced, at a dark
moment in her life. (Wiles and her husband divorced in 2017—due, she has said,
to his bad financial decisions.) Looking back on DeSantis’s behavior, Wiles
reflected: “Had he said, ‘Look, thank you. I appreciate your help. We’re done
here.’ I believe the course of his history would have been different. I might
or might not have gone to work for Donald Trump.”
DAY 1
January 20, 2025
On Trump’s first day in office, the president signed a
flurry of executive orders, 26 in all, withdrawing the US from the World Health
Organization and the Paris climate agreement, rescinding birthright
citizenship, sending troops to the southern border, freezing foreign aid, and
stopping federal hiring. Then Trump issued pardons to almost everyone convicted
in the bloody January 6, 2021, assault on the Capitol, in which nine people
ultimately died and 150 were injured. Even rioters who’d beaten cops within an
inch of their lives were set free. (Fourteen people convicted of seditious
conspiracy had their sentences commuted.)

A picture of old friends in better times.

A statuette of President Donald Trump sits at the copier in
Susie Wiles’s support-staff office.

Robert F. Kennedy Jr. departs the White House on November
13.

Challenge coins, which are on various displays throughout
the White House.

James Blair apparently wears many hats.

The staff entrance to the West Wing, away from the prying
eyes of the press.
Did she
ever ask the president, “ ‘Wait a minute, do you really want to pardon all
1,500 January 6 convicts, or should we be more selective?’ ”
“I did
exactly that,” Wiles replied. “I said, ‘I am on board with the people that were
happenstancers or didn’t do anything violent. And we certainly know what
everybody did because the FBI has done such an incredible job.’ ” (Trump has
said his FBI investigators were “corrupt” and part of a “deep state.”) But
Trump argued that even the violent offenders had been unfairly treated. Wiles
explained: “In every case, of the ones he was looking at, in every case, they
had already served more time than the sentencing guidelines would have
suggested. So given that, I sort of got on board.” (According to court records,
many of the January 6 rioters pardoned by Trump had received sentences that
were lighter than the guidelines.) “There have been a couple of times where
I’ve been outvoted,” Wiles said. “And if there’s a tie, he wins.”
In the West Wing, Wiles is surrounded by young MAGA men.
“She is a ‘go to church every Sunday, uses a swear word very, very rarely’ ”
person, said James Blair, Wiles’s 36-year-old
deputy chief of staff. “She doesn’t raise her voice. But she likes being around
junkyard dogs.” Indeed, Wiles has seemed content to let her pit bulls—deputy
chiefs of staff Miller, Blair, and Dan Scavino—run loose as she watches.
During Oval Office events, Wiles almost always sits just
off camera. “There’s the president and then there’s whoever the three
high-ranking people are on the sofa,” she said. “And then there’s a chair at
the corner of the sofa, which is my chair, which means I’m the one that gets
hit in the head with the boom mic.”
For all the chaos in the Cabinet, Wiles has kept palace
intrigue and shivving to a minimum in the White House. Trump has empowered her;
when Wiles weighs in, everyone knows she is speaking for him. She has in turn
empowered her team: Blair, Miller, Scavino, and Taylor Budowich, who departed
in September.

“First and foremost, she brings no ego,” says Blair. “And
that is the starting point from which just an immense amount of power flows.
There’s so much ego and testosterone around her, there wouldn’t be any room for
hers anyway.”
From day one, Wiles had to grapple with another power
center: Elon Musk.
“He is a complete solo actor,” said Wiles of Trump’s
billionaire pal who led the scorched-earth blitz known as the Department of
Government Efficiency. Wiles described Musk as something akin to a jacked-up
Nosferatu. “The challenge with Elon is keeping up with him,” she told me. “He’s
an avowed ketamine [user]. And he sleeps in a sleeping bag in the EOB
[Executive Office Building] in the daytime. And he’s an odd, odd duck, as I
think geniuses are. You know, it’s not helpful, but he is his own person.”
Musk
triggered the first true crisis of the Trump presidency and an early test for
Wiles. Trump’s chief was shocked when the SpaceX founder eviscerated USAID, the
United States Agency for International Development. “I was initially aghast,”
Wiles told me. “Because I think anybody that pays attention to government and
has ever paid attention to USAID believed, as I did, that they do very good
work.”
In his executive order freezing foreign aid, Trump had
decreed that lifesaving programs should be spared. Instead, they were
shuttered. “When Elon said, ‘We’re doing this,’ he was already into it,” said
Wiles. “And that’s probably because he knew it would be horrifying to others.
But he decided that it was a better approach to shut it down, fire everybody,
shut them out, and then go rebuild. Not the way I would do it.”
Wiles knew that fixing this was on her. “The president
doesn’t know and never will,” she told me. “He doesn’t know the details of
these smallish agencies.”
Wiles says she called Musk on the carpet. “You can’t just
lock people out of their offices,” she recalls telling him. At first, Wiles
didn’t grasp the effect that slashing USAID programs would have on humanitarian
aid. “I didn’t know a lot about the extent of their grant making.” But with
immunizations halted in Africa, lives would be lost. Soon she was getting
frantic calls from relief agency heads and former government officials with a
dire message: Thousands of lives were in the balance.
“She is
a ‘go to church every Sunday, uses a swear word very, very rarely’ ” person,
Blair, Wiles’s 36-year-old deputy chief of staff said. “She doesn’t raise her
voice. But she likes being around junkyard dogs.”
Wiles continued: “So Marco is on his way to Panama. We call
him and say, ‘You’re Senate-confirmed. You’re going to have to be the
custodian, essentially, of [USAID].’ ‘Okay,’ he says.” But Musk forged
ahead—all throttle, no brake. “Elon’s attitude is you have to get it done fast.
If you’re an incrementalist, you just won’t get your rocket to the moon,” Wiles
said. “And so with that attitude, you’re going to break some china. But no
rational person could think the USAID process was a good one. Nobody.”
The shuttering of USAID crippled the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR).
The antiretroviral program, launched with $15 billion by George W. Bush in
2003, was credited with preventing millions of deaths. It depended on USAID
grants. In an interview with The Financial Times, Bill Gates
remarked: “The picture of the world’s richest man killing the world’s poorest
children is not a pretty one.”

Privately, another drama was playing out.
Bush himself had gotten wind of the gutting of PEPFAR. He
called Rubio to express alarm, according to a former aide close to Bush. “He’s
been appalled by Trump from the beginning and he’s determined not to weigh in,”
the aide said. But Musk’s attack on one of his legacy achievements was too
much. Bush, said that person, “cares deeply about the PEPFAR program. That and
Wounded Warriors are the two things where he will weigh in, not publicly, but
with intention.”
Did Rubio have any regrets about the
untold number of lives that PEPFAR’s evisceration might cost? “No. First of
all, whoever says that, it’s just not being accurate,” he told me. “We are not
eviscerating PEPFAR. PEPFAR has been rearranged and reorganized in such a way
where we’re now going to be able to deliver aid in a way that has a goal. The
goal is to help countries become self-sustaining.” With a note of “America
First,” he added: “Let’s begin with the premise: Is it the United States’
fault? Why isn’t China paying for more immunizations? Why isn’t the UK or
Canada or any of the G7 countries?” (The UK, following in the footsteps of the
US, slashed foreign aid in 2025. In November, China, which funded the Africa
CDC, pledged $3.5 million in AIDS prevention in South Africa alone.)
When I
repeated Rubio’s comment to a former GOP White House chief of staff, he
remarked: “I find that immoral.”
DAY 8
January 27, 2025
“Our job is lethality and readiness and war fighting.”
—Pete Hegseth on his first day at the Pentagon, days after Vance cast the
tiebreaking vote in his Senate confirmation
For Trump, Wiles has helped pick a Cabinet of MAGA
hard-liners: Pete Hegseth, secretary of war
(formerly defense); Kash Patel, FBI director; John Ratcliffe, CIA director; Pam Bondi, attorney general; Tulsi Gabbard, director of national
intelligence; and Kristi Noem, head of Homeland
Security. Wiles calls them “a world-class Cabinet, better than anything I could
have conceived of.” Trump’s Cabinet members are either one of the least
qualified presidential teams in history or, to hear Wiles tell it,
disrupters—the only people with the balls to take on an entrenched deep state.
“It was
a horrific hour-plus at midnight,” Wiles said of an interaction with Trump in
2016. “And I don’t think I’ve seen him that angry since. He was ranting and
raving. And I didn’t know whether to argue back or whether to be stoic. What I
really wanted to do was cry.”
“People talk about the deep state being at the State
Department,” Wiles said. “It’s not. It’s the military-industrial complex.”
Hegseth, in her view, is just the guy to take on the powers that be. She
referred to Health and Human Services secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr., another world-class
disrupter, as “my Bobby” and “quirky Bobby.” In Wiles’s view, RFK Jr.’s shock
treatment of HHS is warranted. “He pushes the envelope—some would say too far.
But I say in order to get back to the middle, you have to push it too far.” (In
December, Kennedy’s federal vaccine panel voted to end the decades-long
recommendation for newborn vaccinations against hepatitis B, which is highly
infectious and causes liver failure.)
DAY 56
March 16, 2025
“US deports hundreds of Venezuelans to El Salvador, despite
court order.” —NPR
In mid-March, after Trump invoked the Alien Enemies Act,
Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents (ICE) shackled and herded 238
immigrants onto transport planes and flew them to a notoriously brutal
Salvadoran prison. According to Trump, the men were members of Tren de Aragua,
a violent Venezuelan gang, but the evidence was sketchy (often based on tattoos
alone). Most had committed no serious crimes; one, Kilmar Abrego Garcia,
was deported by mistake, the Trump administration admitted.

“I will
concede that we’ve got to look harder at our process for deportation,” Wiles
told me at the time.
When we spoke again in April, in cities across the country,
masked ICE agents were snatching people off the street, throwing them in vans,
and zip-tying and frog-marching them into makeshift deportation camps. Many
were US citizens or entitled to be here. (ProPublica documented 170 cases in
the first nine months of 2025 of US citizens being caught up in ICE’s dragnet.)
“I’m a
little bit of an expert in big personalities.” Wiles said Trump has “an
alcoholic’s personality.”
“If somebody is a known gang member who has a criminal
past, and you’re sure, and you can demonstrate it, it’s probably fine to send
them to El Salvador or whatever,” Wiles told me. “But if there is a question, I
think our process has to lean toward a double-check.” But as the usa.gov site
itself notes, “In some cases, a noncitizen is subject to expedited removal
without being able to attend a hearing in immigration court.” Not long after
the El Salvador deportation fiasco, in Louisiana, ICE agents arrested and
deported two mothers, along with their children, ages seven, four, and two, to
Honduras. The children were US citizens and the four-year-old was being treated
for stage 4 cancer. Wiles couldn’t explain it.
“It could be an overzealous Border Patrol agent, I don’t
know,” she said of the case, in which both mothers had reportedly been arrested
after voluntarily attending routine immigration meetings. “I can’t understand
how you make that mistake, but somebody did.”
DAY 74
April 3, 2025
“Long-threatened tariffs from U.S. President Donald Trump
have plunged the country into trade wars abroad….” —PBS News
The president declared April 2 “Liberation Day,” bragging about billions
of dollars that would flow into US coffers from tariffs, refusing to
acknowledge that the levies were a tax on consumers.
The
question around Wiles’s tenure under Trump has been whether she will do
anything to restrain him. A better question: Does she want to?
“So much thinking out loud is what I would call it,” said
Wiles of Trump’s chaotic tariff rollout. “There was a huge disagreement over
whether [tariffs were] a good idea.” Trump’s advisers were sharply divided,
some believing tariffs were a panacea and others predicting disaster. Wiles
told them to get with Trump’s program. “I said, ‘This is where we’re going to
end up. So figure out how you can work into what he’s already thinking.’ Well,
they couldn’t get there.”

Wiles
recruited Vance to help tap the brakes. “We told Donald Trump, ‘Hey, let’s not
talk about tariffs today. Let’s wait until we have the team in complete unity
and then we’ll do it,’ ” she said. But Trump barreled ahead, announcing
sweeping “reciprocal” tariffs, from 10 to 100 percent—which triggered panic in
the bond market and a sell-off of stocks. Trump paused his policy for 90 days,
but by that time the president’s helter-skelter levies had given rise to
the TACO chant: “Trump Always Chickens
Out.”
Wiles believed a middle ground on tariffs would ultimately
succeed, she said, “but it’s been more painful than I expected.”
At the time this article went to press, shortly before the
December holidays, a Harvard poll showed 56 percent of voters think Trump’s
tariff policies have harmed the economy.
DAY 207
August 14, 2025
“National Guard mobilizes 800 troops in DC to Support
Federal, Local Law Enforcement—Trump declared a crime emergency in the nation’s
capital.” —US Department of War
During the summer, Trump ordered the National Guard into four
Democratic-led cities, claiming the troops were needed to crack down on crime
and protect federal immigration facilities. In June the president deployed some
4,000 guard troops to Los Angeles; later he sent them to Washington, describing
the city’s crime rate as “out of control.” “This was like a vitamin boost of
ICE, of the [National] Guard, of the Park Service police, who actually have
more authority than the DC Metro Police,” Wiles said. “And the idea was to
right the ship and then slowly back off. And that’s what we’re doing.”
“I don’t
think there’s anybody in the world right now that could do the job that she’s
doing,” Rubio said of Wiles. He called her bond with Trump “an earned trust.”
Critics denounced the deployments as unconstitutional,
performative, and ineffective, and many feared Trump had another, more sinister
plan up his sleeve.
Will the president use the military to suppress or even
prevent voting during the midterms and beyond?
“I say it is categorically false, will not happen, it’s
just wrongheaded,” she snapped.
“Do you understand where people who think that are coming
from?” I asked.
“I do a little bit, but not fully. I mean, I think they
hate the president. They think he’s too wrapped up in what happened in 2020.”
The president and his team were pushing almost every legal
and constitutional boundary and defying courts to stop them. But would Trump
obey the Supreme Court? “Do you think he will adhere to whatever the courts
decide in the end?” I asked Wiles. “I do,” she replied. But Wiles made a
prediction: “The smart lawyers around us think that we will be slowed down, as
we already have been, but we will ultimately prevail.”