reduced the issue to a matter of commitment. “At the end of the day, all the words in the world will not make up for one thing,” he said. “You have to have trust. I trust him.”
After a break to get people arranged, the candidates’ wives joined the interview. As I watched from the back of the room, I marveled at how far Mrs. Edwards had come. I knew she was uncomfortable, but she looked composed and she spoke without hesitating. Stahl was most interested in how these women saw their roles, and Mrs. Edwards accurately described herself as the person who would tell her husband the truth when others would not, and would provide a sort of ballast to keep him stable. To have someone who will play this role is “a very good thing,” she said.
Like Mrs. Edwards, who had always tried, in her way, to help her husband maintain his balance, I would be assuming a role similar to the one I had played since I volunteered for his campaign. I tried to make things run smoothly for the senator and to fix problems as soon as they arose. My immediate concern was the upcoming national convention in Boston. The senator asked me to be responsible for the care of his family and friends. While other people might get frazzled by logistics and dealing with emergencies, it came easily to me.
At the convention, Mrs. Edwards gave me a tough problem to solve when she left a dozen or so messages on my cell phone explaining that she had left the outfit she intended to wear when her husband accepted his nomination at a dry cleaner’s back in Raleigh. I knew that the last flight to Boston left Raleigh- ? Durham International Airport in less than an hour. With a few quick calls, I managed to get someone to race to the cleaner’s, pick up the outfit, and take it to the airport, where my contact with American Airlines got it on the flight. Mrs. Edwards was thrilled when her clothes arrived just a few hours after she’d informed me they were missing. (She also insisted I remove two women from a list of VIP guests from North Carolina, though I wasn’t told why they had to be cut.)
The following day, I had to get the senator’s friend and former law partner David Kirby from his law office in Raleigh to the arena where the convention was held in just over three hours. (He was stuck in an arbitration and feared he was going to miss his best friend’s nomination.) This task involved pulling strings with friends at the airline, who parked his car for him and held the flight. When he landed at the airport, he saw himself on TV in an interview I had set up the day before. The police escorted him from Logan International Airport to the Fleet Center arena. Kirby arrived grinning and flabbergasted. “Damn, the only person you need to know in this world is Andrew Young,” he told people in the senator’s box. “Fuck John Edwards. It’s Andrew who gets things done.”
I appreciated Kirby’s praise, but for me the real reward came in just attending a historic politica ctorl event where future leaders emerged. This was where Barack Obama gave the speech that made him famous. The speech was electrifying, and minutes after Obama left the podium, I brought Kirby’s daughter to take a picture with him. Although Senator Edwards had told me Obama was lacking in substance, I could see he was a brilliant person with a level of confidence similar to what I saw in Edwards. He was far more appealing than John Kerry.
As far as the average television viewer could tell, Kerry and Edwards were a closely bonded team and the convention was a celebration of their shared vision for the country. But I was close enough to the senator at this time to hear what was on his mind, and after less than one month into his partnership with John Kerry, I could tell it was starting to come apart. He wasn’t ready to start calling him names again, but he was frustrated because Kerry wouldn’t listen to his advice and had insulated himself with too many advisers. (At one point, he had more foreign policy aides than President Bush had in the White House.) A typical example of the way the men were diverging arose as Edwards was preparing his acceptance speech, which would be his first extensive address to a national audience. For six years, the senator had been calling on people to embrace a heartfelt hope for the future. More than any other word, hope was at the core of his politics.
Hope was not exactly an original theme. Jesse Jackson had made his name with speeches in which he implored the country to “keep hope alive.” However, it is a reliable and positive message. Unfortunately, Kerry’s staff insisted that the refrain in Senator Edwards’s speech be built on the word help, as in “Help is on the way.” The difference is not as small as it may seem. “Hope” allows people to imagine solving problems on their own. “Help” suggests a handout, which can deprive a person of his or her dignity. Edwards stood his ground and got to use the theme he wanted.
When the time came, and Edwards stood before a sea of flag-?waving partisans and the major networks all beamed his image and voice across the nation and the world, the senator did his duty by praising John Kerry and then rocked the house with a series of declarations that each ended with the promise “Hope is on the way.”
The speech was a hit with everyone except John Kerry’s top people. Afterward when I ran into Julianna Smoot, she said, “You picked the right horse,” and told me, “You deserve everything you get.” She asked me to pass word to the senator that she hoped he would call her. He never did.
The next night, Kerry stuck to his choice of “Help is on the way,” and while the delegates gave him all the noise you could ask for, the speech did not wind up on anyone’s list of best American political addresses. In contrast, Barack Obama’s brilliant keynote address, which challenged the idea that Americans were hopelessly divided, marked a historic moment. It was the one performance that every analyst gave a top grade, and more than anyone knew, it revealed the future of American politics.
Coming out of the convention, the Kerry-?Edwards team had a significant lead over Bush-?Cheney, but by the time the GOP had their convention and their alli candes began their well-?funded attacks-remember the “swift boaters”?-it became obvious that it would be difficult to unseat the incumbent. Kerry’s decision-?making style-slow, even dithering in response to the lies coming from the far right-frustrated Edwards, and he told me he suspected he was being sent to make low-?impact appearances in out-?of-?the-?way spots because Kerry was afraid of being upstaged. So much for trust.
Presidential candidates handpick staff for their running mate long before the candidate is even selected. As a result, Edwards had only two of his loyalists with him during the 2004 run. As often happens, tension arises between the vice presidential nominee-who’s supposed to be a lapdog-and the people serving the person at the top of the ticket. This dynamic was in full force on a weekend when I joined Edwards at his beach house. Except for the presence of the Secret Service guys, the weekend recalled the time we had spent together in years past, and we talked more football than politics. But when we did discuss the campaign, Edwards bragged about how he had won a minor victory by getting Peter Scher, whom Kerry had picked to be his chief of staff, to “go native.” By this he meant that Scher had come over to his side of things in some dispute with Kerry.
Candidates never recover the time and energy wasted on distractions in a campaign, so it’s always best to keep them out of intramural battles over issues like staff loyalty and to control any personal issues that might flare into controversies that would draw attention from important issues. During the 2004 campaign, the senator’s younger brother, Blake, a good ol’ boy who reminded me of the actor John Goodman, began telephoning the lawyer Wade Byrd, who was a big political contributor. Blake wanted help with what he said was a serious problem. With Roger Clinton and Billy Carter in mind, Senator Edwards asked me to find out what was going on and resolve it.
It turned out that Blake had a history of arrests for driving under the influence and had had his license suspended in Colorado. He had contacted Wade Byrd in hopes of getting his license back and perhaps having the charges removed from his record. But as I quickly discovered, this was not even a remote possibility. Instead, as authorities in Colorado indicated, Blake was wanted for failing to appear on a decade-?old charge of driving while intoxicated. The press learned of the warrant for Blake’s arrest and descended on the little house he shared with his longtime girlfriend, Debbie, in the town of Fuquay-?Varina, North Carolina, which the senator had bought for them.
While Blake and Debbie hid behind their locked front door, Mrs. Edwards reacted angrily when the press called the campaign. “How could he do this?” she asked, as if Blake had gotten drunk and taken to the road in a deliberate attempt to derail his brother’s ambitions. The senator was more relaxed in his response. He issued a statement that said he understood that Blake had committed serious crimes but that he was now taking responsibility and that he loved him.
The senator asked me to visit Blake and Debbie to reassure them, and help them network their way to the best lawyer available, who could try to delay the proceeding in Colorado until after the election. Eventually, we found someone who promised to do just that. The main challenge in thi calls process would be to help Blake with the anxiety he felt about the case and getting him to Colorado. Although his crimes had been dangerous, Blake hadn’t hurt anyone, and the man I knew was truly remorseful and frightened about what he faced. I did my best to reassure him, and when the time came for him to appear in court in Colorado, I picked him up at his house at five A.M. so he could catch an early-?morning flight and avoid the press. I’ve never seen a more forlorn person than he was as I dropped him at the terminal, but the outcome of the hearing was a reprieve: The judge delayed sentencing until January. Until then, Blake was a free man and the press would leave him alone.
It may come as a shock to the obsessive, twenty-?four-?hour-?a-?day crusaders who work in presidential campaigns, but life goes on for people who live away from the frenzy of cross-?country tours, press conferences, and debates. On August 11, 2004, the Kerry-?Edwards team was arguing with George Bush about health care. You might say I was involved with the same issue, but in a far more personal way, supporting Cheri in the delivery room as our third child, a boy we named Cooper, came into the world.
Before he was born, doctors had told us the odds were against Cooper having the kind of congenital anomaly that made Gracie’s first months of life so difficult. When he showed some of the same signs of distress, but in a milder form, we asked to have him checked out anyway. Incredibly, we went through many of the same problems we had getting Gracie diagnosed until we confirmed that lightning sometimes strikes twice. Cooper did have an almost identical problem, and while we didn’t have to address it immediately, surgery would be required.
Informed by our previous experience, we decided to find the best surgeons for the job. I turned to a logical source, a famous malpractice attorney named Tom Demetrio, who helped us narrow the choice to Children’s Hospital in Boston. The doctors wanted to give Cooper some time to grow stronger, so we scheduled the procedure for late November. Cheri would keep a close eye on him until then. I would go back into the frenzy of the campaign, which, thanks to the swift boaters, became one of the nastiest in modern times.
By the end of September, everyone in the campaign assumed the race would be neck and neck to the finish. The war in Iraq occupied much of the candidates’ time and attention, but they also traded jabs related to character, and who might be better suited to the job of leading the free world. Occasionally, a gaffe or minor mistake gave comedians something to squawk about and distracted everyone from the substance of the campaign. For our side, one of the worst came when John Kerry insisted on going windsurfing in the waters of Nantucket.
Hard as it may be to accept, Kerry’s hobby had actually been the subject of intense conversation inside the campaign, and it was widely agreed that it was the kind of activity many Americans would view as effete and unpresidential-what if he fell off?-and it would be better if he just gave it up until after the election. Despite warnings, Kerry just couldn’t resist. On a day off he spent in cff Nantucket, he put on a bathing suit, grabbed a pair of gloves, and took to the water atop what looked like a surfboard with a sail. The image of Kerry tacking back and forth reminded everyone of the opposition charge that he was a “flip-?flopper” who couldn’t stick to a position and prompted Jay Leno to say, “Even his hobby depends on which way the wind blows.”
Fortunately, the first presidential debate came about ten days after the windsurfing exhibition and shifted the conversation away from the water. Kerry seemed to outpoint Bush in the first of the three presidential events, but the result was so close that it put more pressure on Edwards to score a knockout in the one encounter he would have with Vice President Cheney, the Darth Vader of Washington. Of course, Cheney also faced similar pressure, as Republicans said he needed to stomp Edwards in order to seize the momentum for his side.
The Republicans seemed most concerned about Senator Edwards’s telegenic looks and his ability to work a room. Standing next to Edwards, Cheney would look like a stooped old man. However, Kerry’s people gave away some of this advantage in the negotiations over the debate format when they agreed that Cheney and Edwards would be seated at a table for the entire ninety minutes. (The Republicans said they were concerned about how standing would affect Cheney’s heart.) Presumably the Democrats received something in return from the Bush side, but I never heard what it was.
When the date of the debate arrived, I escorted the senator’s parents to Cleveland and brought them to the site at Case Western Reserve University. During the event, I was positioned a few yards from the stage. I like to believe it helped him to see my friendly face. He performed about as well as could be expected, limiting the points Cheney scored against John Kerry and steering the discussion toward the deception the White House had practiced to get the nation into the Iraq war. The vice president went to great lengths to sell the country on his extensive experience in government, which stretched back more than thirty years. Edwards came back with a perfect retort, saying, “Mr. Vice President, I don’t think the country can take four more years of this kind of experience.” However, his performance was not flawless. At one point he brought up Cheney’s lesbian daughter, and this would be viewed by many as a cheap shot.
On my scorecard, Cheney failed to get the big victory he needed and Senator Edwards prevailed, as he showed he was equal to the job of vice president. The instant polls done that night found similar sentiments among viewers, but as time passed, the Karl Rove Republican spin machine shaped opinion and more people began to say that Cheney had won because he didn’t collapse when confronted by Edwards’s superior communication skills. This is how the scoring often proceeds with debates. First impressions are followed by endless nitpicking, and before you know it, the partisan analysis matters more than what actually happened during the debate itself. In the case of Edwards vs. Cheney, the only certain conclusion you might reach is that very few voters were moved out of their preestablished groupings, which found them divided almost evenly between the parties.
Unfortunately, Americans were so hardened in their positions that as election night grew close, everyone realized that we were fig cat hting over a tiny number of voters-a few hundred thousand in each of a handful of “swing” states-who might actually be undecided. Kerry’s campaign team decided that Edwards could serve them best by making a series of national TV appearances, and he performed perfectly on shows ranging from The View to The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Leno and Edwards liked each other. The host told the audience he loved the oft-?told story about how every
