The New York Times gets everything first. This happens because even in the Internet age, the Times stills sets the media agenda, especially where TV network news operations are concerned. This is why it’s always a good idea to give the Times an early exclusive on an important story, especially if you think it might spin things your way. On the next to last day of 2002, the senator got just this kind of treatment when the nation’s “paper of record” quoted unnamed sources to report that Edwards was going to announce the formation of his presidential exploratory committee-the first step toward a real campaign-and that he would be perceived by many Democrats as “the anti-​Gore.” As the anti-​Gore, Edwards was handsome, energetic, and quick on his feet. He was also, as the Times said, “a more authentic Southerner who could have far more appeal in states like North Carolina, Georgia, Kentucky and the mother lode: Florida.”

By letting unnamed campaign “advisers” leak the story to the Times, we got a flood of inquiries from other press outlets around the world. Among them were requests for live interviews from the three major networks as well as CNN. At four o’clock on the morning of January 2, the Edwardses’ neighborhood was filled with production trucks from the TV networks, and the street in front of their house was lit up like a stadium set for a night game. When the senator, Mrs. Edwards, and I looked out from the window of Wade’s carefully preserved bedroom on the second floor, we saw truck drivers and technicians standing outside their rigs, sipping coffee and smoking cigarettes. A few of them said hello when I later went outside to clean up so every angle visible to the TV crews looked good.

When I finished my work and went inside the house, I helped some volunteers finish clearing away furniture (much of it was piled in a neighbor’s carport) so that the different networks could occupy separate rooms with cameras and lights and crews. The senator was thrilled by the prospect of all the media attention, but Mrs. Edwards paced nervously around the house. I tried to reassure her and reminded her that it was very important to just keep breathing. By the time she was called for the first interview-Good Morning America -she was a little less anxious than your typical deer in the headlights. Given my own fear of public speaking, I felt sympathy for her as she struggled to answer questions about her husband with both tact and openness. She got better as the morning wore on but never looked completely comfortable as she listened to the questions through an earpiece and tried to address the camera as if it were a person.

While the Edwardses were introducing themselves to America, I tried to help our press secretary, Mike Briggs, corral the growing media horde on the front lawn. The senator was scheduled to make a formal announcement and take questions at ten-​thirty. At about ten-​twenty, I noticed that several of the cameras were trained Von a side door, where some garbage cans were lined up. Concerned they might appear in a side shot, I jogged over to move them, and as I did, Edwards emerged from the front door and the cable networks like CNN went live with the shot. I scurried to get out of view and then stood to the side as he spoke before the microphones:

Well, good morning. Good morning to everyone. Today I filed my-the papers to set up an exploratory committee to run for president of the United States. I run for president to be champion-to be a champion for the same people I fought for all my life, regular folks. They are people like my own family, where I was the first to go to college and my dad worked in a textile mill all of his life, or my mother’s last job was working at the post office, to the people I went to school with, the people I grew up with, the families that I represented for almost two decades as a lawyer. And exactly the same group of people. They are the reason I ran for the United States Senate.

I think these people are entitled to a champion in the White House, somebody who goes to work every day seeing things through their eyes and who provides real ideas about how to make their lives better-not somebody who’s thinking about insiders or looking out for insiders.

The prepared remarks belonged as much to Elizabeth Edwards as they did to the senator, and they described perfectly the man they wanted to present to the voters. Among the various archetypes found on the American political landscape, “champion of the average Joe” fit the senator best, and this was the role he would assume as he considered facing a field of potential Democratic contenders that included half a dozen men with greater experience in politics and government.

Although Edwards talked about the economy, health care, terrorism, and education, the initial questions from the press were focused more on the nuts and bolts of politics. They seemed most concerned about how much money was in the campaign account (none yet) and whether Edwards would consider running as someone else’s pick for vice president if he didn’t grab the nomination. (He said he was thinking only about being president.) For me, the event was a perfect example of the main problem with media coverage of politics. While voters say they want to hear about issues, and pundits complain about the lack of substance in campaigns, reporters invariably highlight the horse-​race aspect of elections. I don’t know if they are trying to impress people with their cynical insider perspective or they just think that issues are boring, but at the front lawn press conference, politics outweighed policy by a substantial margin.

No one in the campaign seemed surprised by the questions, and the senator was prepared for them all. In the next twenty-​four hours, we would see that TV and print reporters boiled things down to the same few essential points. First, they said that in a media age a candidate’s image is more important than his résumé. Next, they said that Edwards had the look of a president but would need to prove he could connect with the common man. Finally, they co [nalncluded that Edwards was at least as attractive as any of the others who would challenge George W. Bush, so he had no reason not to throw his hat in the ring.

Besides affirming the news media’s limited interest in substance, the senator’s encounters with the press that day reinforced my understanding of politics as stagecraft. Once you get the TV trucks lined up and the camera crews running around, people tend to fall into their roles. Senator Edwards was certainly aware of his opportunity, and he went to great lengths to make sure the press had all the pictures they wanted. This included coming back outside after the initial press conference to take Emma Claire and Jack for a stroll in a neighborhood nature walk called the Greenway. The kids looked like walking props to me, but no one said a word about this.

I had my own brush with fame when this happened and CNN went live with a picture that included me standing with my shirt half-​untucked and a baseball cap on my head. I didn’t even know I was being caught in the scene until my phone rang and I heard Cheri say, “Andrew, you’re on TV!” I got myself out of the picture as fast as I could.

The way I saw it, my job was behind the scenes, and if I ever appeared in the press, it meant I had made a mistake. The big-​time consultants, policy wonks, and media gurus all knew the more powerful reporters by their first names and had their phone numbers on speed dial. They played a game that involved leaking information to make themselves look good and make others look bad. After the news conference, I turned to the job of preparing for a party that would start in the early evening.

Once the press departed, I spent the afternoon making sure that cleanup crews and food servers were on schedule and trying desperately to contact the caterer, who was absent without leave. I finally got through to him and discovered that his truck had broken down and he had run into trouble finding a replacement. He reassured me that he would make it to the house before the guests, and with no other option I just accepted his apologies and told him to hurry. With the next call came another minor disaster. We had sent out a worldwide fax to the press with our new contact information. BellSouth had activated our toll-​free number, but it was working in only three states.