Then, he turned his full attention to Sister Souljah, a young rapper who had expressed solidarity with the rioters in Los Angeles who attacked white motorists following acquittals in the Rodney King police-beating case. A few days earlier, Sister Souljah had been quoted in a Washington Post profile saying: "I mean if black people kill black people every day, why not have a week and kill white people? … So if you're a gang member and you would normally be killing somebody, why not kill a white person?"

The day before Clinton's speech, Sister Souljah had been invited to speak at the Rainbow Coalition forum where Jackson had praised her for contributions to his organization's work. Clinton knew Jackson was vulnerable. "If you took the words 'white' and 'black' and you reversed them, you might think David Duke was giving that speech," Clinton said, drawing audible gasps in the predominately African-American audience of Jackson supporters. He went on to take notice of her presence at the meeting the day before.

Jackson was embarrassed and outraged. Visibly shaken, he told me, "I do not know why he used this platform to address those issues. It was unnecessary. It was a diversion. … Perhaps he was aiming for an audience that was not here."

Indeed, he was. Suddenly, I understood it perfectly. That's why the team from Little Rock was at the ready. They were there to spin the story for the fat Sunday papers and well-watched talking-head shows.

Knowing that the second day story would be reaction from black leaders to the candidate's comments, I (joined by Gwen Ifill, then of the New York Times) rushed to grab a quote or two from black congressional leaders. I wanted to know if they were as offended by Clinton's comments as Jackson was.

Comparing notes, Ifill and I realized that Rep. Maxine Waters, D-Calif., and Rep. John Lewis, D-Ga., had made almost identical comments to us. Clinton had given them his talking points in advance, covering himself beautifully.

You don't have to strain to see the parallels.