Arthur Hailey - Strong Medicine

"But you did discuss Montayne?" "Yes.”

"Did you hope to persuade Dr. Stavely and Citizens for Safer Medicine to cease, or moderate, their campaign to have the FDA's approval of Montayne withdrawn?" "I did not. The thought never occurred to me.”

"Was your visit an official one, on behalf of your company?" "No. In fact, no one else at Felding-Roth knew of my intention to call on Dr. Stavely.”

In his seat beside Urbach, Donahue seemed displeased. He asked, "Are all those truthful answers, Mrs. Jordan?" "All my answers have been truthful.”

Anger seized her as she added, "Would you like me to take a polygraph test?" Donahue scowled.”You are not on trial here.”

"Excuse me, Senator. I hadn't noticed.”

Glowering, Donahue motioned for Urbach to continue. The questioning moved on to the Felding-Roth Doctrine. "You have heard Dr. Stavely describe the document as a 'shameless piece of sales promotion,' " Urbach said.”Do you agree with that assessment?" "Of course not. The doctrine has no objective other than the declared, straightforward one of charting future company policy.”

"Oh, really. Are you convinced, then, it will have no sales promotion value at all?" Celia sensed a trap being sprung. She decided to be wary. "I didn't say that. But if-as an honest declaration-it eventually has that kind of value, it was not the original intention.”

Donahue was fidgeting. Urbach turned to him inquiringly.”Senator?" The chairman seemed uncertain whether to intervene or not. Then he said dourly, "It all comes down to interpretation, doesn't it? Whether we should believe a selfless, dedicated persop like Dr. Stavely, or a spokeswoman for an industry which is so obsessed with profit that it regularly kills people or mutilates them, using drugs it knows in advance to be unsafe?" There were gasps from spectators. Even Donahue's aides looked uneasy, sensing he had gone too far. Ignoring all else, Celia asked acidly, "Is that a question directed at me, Senator? Or is it what it appears to be: a totally biased, unsupported statement, revealing this hearing as a charade which reached its verdict before any of us arrived?" Donahue pointed to Celia, as he had to Mace.”Let me warn the witness: there is an offense in this place called contempt of Congress.”

Not caring anymore, she shot back, "Don't tempt me!" The senator thundered, "I order you to explain that remark!" Celia had progressed beyond all caution. Scarcely hearing a whispered plea from Quentin, and shaking off his hand, she leaped to her feet. "I explain it by pointing out that you, who sit here in judgment of Montayne and Felding-Roth and FDA, are the same person who, two years ago, complained about a delay in approving Montayne, and described it as ridiculous.”

"That is a lie! Now you are in contempt, madam. I made no such statement. " Celia felt a wondrous glow of satisfaction. Donahue had forgotten. It was hardly surprising-he made so many statements on so many subjects. And his aides, if they knew of what was said earlier, had failed to brief him. On both counts, Quentin had been wrong. There was a folder in front of her which she had not opened until now. She had brought it, just in case. From it Celia produced a batch of press clippings stapled together. She chose the one on top. "This is from the Washington Post of September 17, 1976.”

She was still standing as she read:

"Referring to the drug Montayne, now under review at FDA and intended for women during pregnancy, Senator Den- nis Donahue today described the FDA's lack of a decision as 'clearly ridiculous in the circumstances.' "

She added, "The same report was in other newspapers.”

Celia stopped.”And there is something else, Senator.”

She selected another paper from her folder. Donahue, who had flushed a deep brick red, reached for his gavel. As he did, Senator Jaffee on the minority side called out, "No, no! Let the lady finish. I want to hear.”

"You accused our industry of killing people," Celia said, addressing Donahue.”I have here your voting record on tobacco subsidies ever since you entered Congress eighteen years ago. Every one of those years you voted 'yes' for subsidies. And with those votes, Senator, you have helped kill more people from lung cancer than the pharmaceutical industry has killed in most of its history.”

The last few words were lost in a tumult of confused shouting, some of it Donahue's as he banged his gavel, declaring, "This hearing is adjourned.”

What started, for Celia, as a dismal experience ended-or so it seemed-as a personal triumph. The same evening as her explosive clash with Senator Donahue, the television networks-ABC, CBS and NBC--carried almost the entire dramatic scene on their evening newscasts. As a critic subsequently wrote, "It was great theater, and TV at its immediate best.”

Newspapers, next day, accorded the story similar prominence.

The New York Times headed its report: A Spunky Lady Bests a Senator.

The Chicago Tribune had it: Sen. Donahue Crosses Jordan Afterward Wishes He Hadn't.

There was other emphasis. In this instance, it emerged, reporters-both for television and the press-had done their homework and some digging. As one explained it to Julian Hammond, who passed the information on to Celia, "Most of us found out about Mrs. Jordan's resignation over Montayne, also her insistence when she came back that the drug be withdrawn without waiting for the FDA. What no one seemed sure of was how to use that bit of background, so we saved it. As it turned out, holding it proved more effective in the end.”

Thus, most reports after the showdown had Celia standing tall in two ways. First, both her departure from Felding-Roth and her return-now recorded publicly-revealed her as a person of strong moral principle. Second, her refusal to make herself look good at the Senate hearings at the expense of her employer demonstrated a noteworthy loyalty. The Wall Street Journal began an editorial: There is usually more honor in business than business receives credit for. How pleasant it is, then, to have some honor not only plainly shown but widely acknowledged.

A few days after her return from Washington, Celia and Julian Hammond were together in her office. The public affairs vice president had brought in, happily, a newly received batch of press clippings which he spread over Celia's desk. Moments later, the arrival of Childers Quentin was announced. Celia had not seen the Washington lawyer since their final day on Capitol Hill. His visit now was to review, with her, some more proposed settlements of Montayne lawsuits. She told her secretary to send him in. He looked tired and sounded moody, she thought as they greeted each other and she asked him to be seated. Hammond said, "I was just leaving, Mr. Quentin.”

He pointed to the news clippings.”We were savoring the spoils of victory.”

Quentin appeared unimpressed.”Is that what you call them?" "Certainly.”

The public affairs chief seemed surprised.”Wouldn't you?" The answer came grouchily.”If you think that, then you're both short-sighted.”

There was a silence, after which Celia said, "All right, counselor. You've something on your mind. Tell us.”

"All of that," Quentin motioned to the clippings, "as well as the TV coverage you've had, is heady stuff. But in a few weeks, most will be forgotten. The publicity will count for nothing.”

It was Hammond who asked, "What will count?" "What will count is that this company-and you personally, Celia-have acquired a formidable enemy. I know Donahue. You made him look a fool. Worse, you did it on his own home ground, the Senate, and-as it turned out-with millions watching. He'll never forgive that. Never. If, any time in the future, he can do harm to Felding-Roth or to you, Celia, he'll do it and enjoy it. He may even look for ways, and a United States senator-as I told you once -has levers of power he can pull.”