A Regular Life in Unusual Times
She goes to Bible study class and buys cookies from every Girl Scout who comes to the door. She gave $40 to the neighborhood association for tree planting, which earned her the rank of “regular,” not quite “patron” or “sustaining.”
Sherron Watkins, 42, became a national figure in the Enron Corp. affair this week after the disclosure of her August letter warning fellow company executives of questionable accounting measures. But friends say Watkins, an Enron vice president, has tried not to let the growing scandal at her company overwhelm her life.
The last time Carrie Wood, Watkins’ neighbor and former sorority sister, saw her friend was Sunday. Wood asked how she was.
“I’ve gotten an SEC [Securities and Exchange Commission] subpoena,” Watkins said.
“For documents? Or for you?” Wood asked.
“Both,” Watkins said.
But she appeared normal, Wood said, noting that “she was going off to buy her daughter some shoes.”
Watkins lives in Southampton, a pleasant, tree-lined Houston neighborhood with big but not extravagant houses nestled close together. A few blocks away is Rice University, where she runs up the stadium steps to keep fit.
Watkins and her husband, Richard, who works in oil and gas financing for a Canadian company, and their 2-year-old daughter live in a gray saltbox-style home with a large American flag out front. On Tuesday morning, television news trucks filled the street, but by afternoon they had given up their quest for an interview and left.
Like the street, the inside of the Watkins house was quiet, domestic--golf clubs on the study floor, family photos on the walls and tables, an empty beer bottle near the door. Richard Watkins had a clipboard on which he was noting who called and what they wanted. It was a long list.
The husband didn’t want to talk much, but neighbors were glad to offer testimonials.
“She’s very professional--we keep it just neighbors,” said Chris Cagley, who lives across the street.
Cagley worked for Enron too, as a contract employee, but he said he never discussed office matters with Watkins. Her role in calling attention to the questionable practices came as a surprise to him when he picked up the Tuesday paper. He was filled with admiration.
“You know how corporations are,” he said. “No one wants to stand out, to say anything bad. But Sherron wanted to inform people, to let them know what was going on.”
Meanwhile, Watkins’ attorney, Philip Hilder, was being besieged by the news media in his new downtown offices, which are still under construction. He did simultaneous TV interviews, perfecting the art of saying nothing.
“We fully anticipate we will be subpoenaed to appear” before Congress and other regulatory hearings, he said repeatedly.
Hilder, a former federal prosecutor who specializes in white-collar criminal defense, responded to one interviewer who asked if he had handled a case like this before:
“Has anybody handled anything like this before?”
