Glory Days

The 2004 election cycle was a defining year in my career.

For this one, sit back, turn up the Springsteen, and let me tell you about my glory days.

Twenty years ago, 2004 was a defining year in my professional career. It started with an audacious idea to shape the political landscape and ended in a bittersweet victory when we won the battle but lost the war. In between, I got an up-close look at presidential politics and found myself in rooms and conversations with the most powerful Democrats in the country.

At the time, I’d been practicing politics for about a decade. I was working with a small consulting operation headquartered in Boston that made most of its income from direct mail and print materials. I was essentially the junior partner in a firm that consisted of senior partner Jim Spencer, who everybody just called “Spencer,” Chris Judd, the production and business manager, and a couple of graphic designers working on contract.

Spencer was a Chicago native who arrived in Boston via Los Angeles in the early 1980s to serve as executive director of the Massachusetts Democratic Party. He went on to run Rep. Joe Kennedy III’s campaigns and serve as his district manager. I met him when he was recruiting local consultants around the country to join Winning Directions, a firm that would provide high quality direct mail to campaigns while offering people like me a commission. When Spencer left the firm a few years later, I went with him and we formed The Campaign Network.

Spencer was a complicated character. Impatient with a short fuse, he frequently burned bridges and alienated friend and foe alike. He also inspired deep loyalty and carried an unbridled passion for politics and campaigns. He was a brilliant strategist who understood risks and could be reckless in taking them, but saw huge benefits when they paid off. He made decisions quickly and barreled ahead with often off-beat ideas.

Right after New Year’s Day in January 2004, Michael Whouley, John Kerry’s chief strategist, deployed most of the Massachusetts’ political operatives to Iowa as organizers for the Iowa Caucuses to help save Kerry’s floundering campaign. Whouley was a veteran of three presidential campaigns who Dana Milbank described in his book “Smashmouth” as a “chain-smoking, foul-mouthed, street-smart, Democratic political operative.” Al Gore referred to him as “The Brain.” In the 2000 New Hampshire primary, Whouley reportedly used Gore’s motorcade to create a traffic jam in an area full of Bill Bradley voters to prevent them from reaching the polls before they closed.

Whouley sent Spencer to Scott County, Iowa, the state’s third largest county. When he arrived, the race appeared to be between former House Minority Leader Dick Gephardt and former Vermont Governor Howard Dean. Kerry and the rest of the large field, including North Carolina Senator John Edwards, were vying for third place.

Politics, though, is anything but stable. Throughout the final weeks of the campaign, Dean and Gephardt slammed each other with negative ads, driving voters away from both of them. When the votes were counted on January 19, John Kerry emerged the victor with Edwards a close second. After the primary results came in, Dean gave his famous scream that left him the butt of jokes instead of a front-runner. Gephardt’s fourth place finish ended his campaign altogether.

The morning after the primary, Spencer called from Iowa ecstatic. Scott County had outperformed expectations and Whouley told him to leave immediately for New Hampshire. Spencer headed out, driving across the country in the age before smart phones and with spotty cell reception at best.

Establishment money that had been with Gephardt quickly shifted to Kerry. In just a few days, he had gone from struggling candidate to front-runner. Edwards seemed to be his main competition, though Dean and other candidates remained in the race.

A few hours after he left Davenport, Iowa, Spencer called, buzzing with excitement. He had an idea. He wanted to start a movement to draft a Kerry-Edwards ticket. He was sure Kerry was on his way to the nomination and he reasoned that the two U.S. Senators were a great match. Kerry brought the staid East Coast establishment and Edwards brought Southern economic populism. Kerry brought the experience of decades in politics and Edwards brought the excitement of youthful good-looks and energy.

As Spencer would later tell a reporter, “John Kerry is a great guy. I love him, but he’s not the most exciting, charismatic guy in the world. Edwards is charismatic and exciting.”

While he drove across the country, I reached out to one of our graphic artists to start designing a logo and print materials. We would leverage the internet to garner attention, offering supporters a petition page to show support. At the time, a lot of candidates didn’t even have websites. The DraftWesleyClark.com movement that propelled the general into the race provided a model and Howard Dean’s low-dollar fundraising through emails showed the advantage of accumulating email addresses.

Over the next two weeks, we pulled together the parts and pieces. We started a nonprofit called Citizens Consent to house the project. We set up the website, a much more complicated task back then, and printed bumper stickers and lapel stickers. Then, we waited.

The New Hampshire primary results sealed the deal. Kerry won a solid plurality of the voters and Edwards came in a distant and disappointing fourth. South Carolina was now the North Carolinian’s best hope to stay in the race. So just days before the primary, we launched the Draft Kerry Edwards campaign.

Almost immediately, Edwards faced questions from reporters about whether he would accept the vice-presidential spot. As South Carolina’s The State newspaper reported, “Edwards’ campaign is not amused.” I got pushback from Edwards operatives who were angry that their candidate was getting knocked off his message. At the same time, we were getting calls from Kerry people cheering us on. That situation would flip in a few weeks.

The DraftKerryEdwards.com movement garnered national attention with articles in newspapers across the country. When the Carolina Panthers faced the New England Patriots in the Super Bowl, we sent out a press release that read, “John Kerry and John Edwards may be sitting on opposite sides of the field come Sunday, but they should be paired up on the same side of the line of scrimmage come November 2.”

After Super Tuesday in early March, Edwards finally dropped out, but we kept Kerry Edwards alive, getting periodic press throughout the spring and early summer. Edwards supporters suddenly took a liking to our efforts, but some of Kerry’s operatives wanted us to shut it down. Kerry said he didn’t want to be pressured into a decision.

Spencer and I both believed that our efforts were in the best interests of the Democratic Party, but we were also trying to raise our profile and attract business. It worked. In June, the Kerry campaign called and asked me to help pull together an exploratory trip to Raleigh for Cam Kerry, John’s brother. About the same time, a friend asked me to join the podium security team at the Democratic National Convention to be held in Boston in July. And Spencer made sure Michael Whouley remembered his work in the primaries.

In early July, Kerry announced he had chosen Edwards to serve as his running mate and we issued a press statement saying that the work of Draft Kerry Edwards was done. The Kerry campaign transformed into a national political organization focused on winning electoral votes instead of chasing delegates or picking a running mate. Whouley went to the DNC as National Campaign Director and the party took over the responsibility for much of the paid communications.

At the Convention in Boston, I worked with a team of political operatives backed by the Secret Service to ensure only authorized people were allowed behind the podium. We were the front line, checking credentials and making nice with big egos trying to get backstage while the Secret Service agents were the muscle if anybody tried to push through. For the most part, we had few problems.

We also got to socialize with the people waiting to speak and members of their entourages. I met ex-presidents and future presidents, senators and governors, movie stars and rock stars. I hung out with Stephen Stills who seemed surprised and flattered that I recognized him. I made a lot of connections that I’ve maintained and others that I should have.

A week or so after the Convention, Spencer called to tell me we were part of the DNC mail consortium, the operation providing direct mail and print materials for the Kerry-Edwards operation and coordinated campaigns in targeted states. They assigned us New Hampshire. We were one of about six direct mail firms hired and by far the smallest. Michael Whouley had come through.

There was a catch, though. Whouley wanted Spencer to go to Miami to run the GOTV effort in Dade County. I would need to go to Boston to manage the mail program. Throughout September and October, Spencer spent most of his time in Florida and I spent most of mine in Massachusetts.

The mail consortium began with an extensive research operation. We were delivered dozens of files of messaging memos and hundreds of photographs of Kerry and Edwards. We spent days on conference calls with pollsters and the communications team.

Once adequately briefed, we were given five days to produce ten pieces of mail to specific audiences about specific issues, like female persuasion comparison, African American GOTV, negative jobs, positive health care, etc. Each piece would be presented to focus groups around the country.

We were given little lead time, thrown into a fast-moving campaign and expected to keep up. I loved every minute of it. We were working fast and I was at the top of my creative game. I knew we were producing great mail.

The focus groups were fascinating. I’d never had my mail tested before. Each group was a different demographic and shown mail targeted to them. They were handed a piece and allowed to look at it for a minute or so and then the pieces were collected. The focus group moderator would then ask questions about the mail. “Tell me what you remember most.” “What did the piece say.” “How did it make you feel.” They were trying to gauge the impact of the mail on its audience.

After the focus groups were completed, the mail was rated for effectiveness. Our pieces were consistently rated among the highest in the groups. The DNC bought several of our designs that they then allowed other firms in the consortium to use with an explanation of the target audience and why it was effective. Watching the response to our mail in the focus groups gave us a feeling of validation. We were as good as we thought we were.

New Hampshire was the smallest of the targeted states, but it had a competitive governor’s race and the DNC decided against going on television. The lower half of the state, where a majority of the population lives, is in the Boston media market, making it an extremely expensive and inefficient market. Mail would be the primary medium for communicating with voters in the state.

We had a lot of masters. Every piece we produced had to be approved by the Kerry-Edwards campaign, the DNC, and the New Hampshire Democratic Party. We were also producing the mail for John Lynch, the Democratic nominee for governor who was running against incumbent Republican Craig Benson. Pieces for that race required approval by the Lynch campaign, too.

Legendary Massachusetts pollster Tom Kiley did our polling. He had been advising Kerry for decades and knew New England voters as well as anyone in politics. He gave us our targets and our messages.

Beginning in mid-September, Kiley would poll almost every other day. Our team would get on conference calls when the results came back and take his direction. “We’re slipping with older women in rural areas,” Kiley would say. “They’re concerned about getting to the doctor.”  Within 24 hours, we would turn around a couple of pieces that addressed concerns of women over 50 who were worried about healthcare.

The fall was fast-paced with long hours. We were writing, designing, and producing mail in rapid succession. Spencer and I talked daily on the phone and he flew in from Florida a couple of times. We brought on additional consultants to help with our other clients because the consortium work took so much time. Our business boomed.

The Boston Red Sox became our great distraction. The team entered the playoffs as a Wild Card team and quickly dispatched the Anaheim Angels to reach the American League championship game against their arch rivals the New York Yankees. Down three games in the four-of-seven series, the Red Sox came back to win four straight to make it to the World Series. Then, they swept the St. Louis Cardinals in four games, breaking the Curse of the Bambino by winning the World Series for the first time in 86 years.

The New England Patriots won the Super Bowl. The Boston Red Sox won the World Series. Surely, it seemed, John Kerry would win the presidency, giving Massachusetts some version of a hat-trick.

Alas, it didn’t happen. George Bush was re-elected with 286 electoral votes to John Kerry’s 251. Kerry won the three West Coast States, the Upper Midwest, and every state from Maryland north. Bush won everywhere else.

Kerry won New Hampshire and John Lynch defeated Republican Governor Craig Benson. For us, it was a bittersweet night. Between mid-September and election day, we sent 27 runs of mail to various audiences of New Hampshire voters. We competed against a Bush campaign that ran a month of television ads across the state and we won. New Hampshire was the only state that voted flipped from red in 2000 to blue in 2004. We did our job but it wasn’t enough in the tough business of presidential politics.

A few months later, at a conference of the American Association of Political Consultants, we almost swept the category of Best Presidential Mail, winning three of four awards presented. Again, the honor was validating in a highly competitive industry increasingly dominated by large firms. It was the cherry on top of the year 2004.

For me, the year was a defining period in my professional and political development. I saw how an audacious idea combined with innovative strategies and tactics could influence a national conversation. I saw how relationships create opportunities. I worked with a talented team of local and national consultants and operatives to flip a competitive state. Along the way, I met some of the most interesting and powerful people in the country. It was a helluva ride.