A few months ago, I was at my desk, working late, going through a list of people I wanted

to interview for this podcast.

Linda Tripp was one of the first people I had put on the list.

I didn't have high hopes when I doubted her number.

I wasn't even sure I had the right one.

But then, after a couple of rings, Tripp picked up.

I recognized her voice.

I remembered it from the 22 hours of tapes she made back in 1997, when she secretly recorded a series of phone calls in which her

friend Monica Lewinsky talked about her tumultuous affair with the president.

You have a crappy personal situation, and you have a crappy professional situation.

After I explained who I was and what I was doing, Tripp told me that she did not want to be interviewed.

She said it had been 20 years since all this stuff happened.

She had a whole new life now that had nothing to do with Bill Clinton or Monica Lewinsky.

I knew about this new life from stories I'd read about Tripp.

She lived on a horse farm in rural Virginia, and she owned a year-round Christmas store with her

husband Dieter, whom she spoke German with at home.

It made sense that Tripp didn't want to reignite interest in her past.

But I kept pushing, saying I wanted to get her side of the story.

After a few minutes, Tripp said something to the effect of,

there's no way you would ever get it right.

And when I asked what she meant,

she just started answering me.

...