Eric Trump said on Tuesday that it took “courage” during Monday night’s debate for his father to refrain from bringing up Bill Clinton’s infidelity, saying it was something he’ll always remember. - BuzzFeed News
PROFILES IN COURAGE, CHAPTER 2
"Trump in Hempstead"
Some American soldiers distinguished themselves at Iwo Jima. For others, it was Omaha Beach.
But for Donald J. Trump, it was the presidential debate stage at Hofstra University where his bravery and patriotism would most gloriously shine—all thanks to his swift, courageous decision not to bring up the decades-old, completely irrelevant affairs of his opponent's husband.
Donald Trump never got to see military action in a true war zone, due to a disqualifying bout of having a bad foot.
But here on Long Island—an inhospitable strip of dirt that locals call "The Devil's Bicep"—his opportunity presented itself.
At Hofstra, a besieged Trump was facing enemy fire from multiple fronts—like Napoleon at Austerlitz, or Ray Romano during a classic episode of Everybody Loves Raymond.
To the south, a radical mercenary-journalist (from a supposedly "neutral" entity) tried to pin him down; on his flank, a centrist movement led by the unsmiling wife of a long-deposed Monarch had arisen, wearing the traditional blood-red uniform of her mendacious cohort.
They had teamed up to take him out for good—like Napoleon at Waterloo in 1815, or Ray Romano in the Everybody Loves Raymond episode "Marie's Meatballs" in 1998.
Trump had watched as this powerful alliance had brought down several former brothers-in-arms—men like Chris Christie, at the Battle of George Washington Bridge, and Paul Manafort, during the Siege of Putingrad.
He would not repeat their mistakes. He would show true courage—the kind that his children would remember forever, and brag about to local DJs.
A lesser man would have attacked Clinton for her husband's infidelities. But Trump would not.
And why not? Because of the C-word.
It starts with "C" and sort of rhymes with "nourish."
It was the quality exhibited by George S. Patton at the Battle of the Bulge, and Dwight D. Eisenhower during the invasion of Normandy, and Ray Barone, when he confronted wife Debra about her sub-standard meatballs.
And so, fighting a devastating bout of the sniffle-wiffles, and hopped up on what modern historians now believe to be some sort of stimulant, Donald Trump displayed true courage at Hofstra.
He would not unleash his attack on Bill Clinton's marital indiscretions at the debate.
As the old Welsh proverb goes, "Sometimes courage is what you don't say about your opponent's spouse."
Indeed, in a courageous moment of geopolitical chess, he would have his lieutenants praise him for not attacking.
It was a moment of daring and pluck that would be memorialized in poems ("Infidelis Deum: Visions from Hofstra") and the six-hour Lars von Trier psychodrama Trump/Clinton.
Eventually, Congress would establish the Orange Heart Medal, an honor presented to those who "exhibited the necessary courage to only talk about the marital scandals of a political adversary when he or she is not in the room."
It was an act that would become so synonymous with Courage that in the game Taboo, if you received the word "courage," you could not use the words "Trump" or "Hofstra" or "Bill Clinton's liaisons."
But at that moment, there was only capital-C Courage.
Donald Trump would not discuss the extramarital affairs of Bill Clinton, during a presidential debate against Bill Clinton's wife.
Instead, he would insult Rosie O'Donnell for a few minutes and then wander off into the night.
We still remember his courage to this day.
Previously in "Profiles in Courage": The Product Managers Who Removed the Headphone Jack from the iPhone