FITS AND STARTS

By November, however, Kerry was finally getting ready to make one decision: to fire Jordan. As early as July, Kerry had approached his political mentor, Ted Kennedy, and asked his advice about replacing Jordan. Kennedy told him he thought a change was long overdue. Kennedy was an avuncular figure to Kerry. In an interview with NEWSWEEK in June 2004, Kerry went on and on about how he had studied Kennedy, a legendary storyteller and schmoozer, trying to learn from the senior senator from Massachusetts (40 years in office) that in the end it was "the people" that mattered, not so much one's policy views. But Kerry was uncomfortable with personal confrontation. He kept giving Jordan more rope. In the end, Jordan hanged himself.

The campaign manager's first mistake was to underestimate the Internet revolution of the Deaniacs. "There are no votes on the Internet," Jordan had said back in the spring of 2003. At a meeting of top staffers and advisers at Kerry's house on Nantucket over the Fourth of July, Kerry asked for a show of hands. How many thought Dean had crossed over from fringe candidate to serious contender? Only two or three people had raised their hands. One was Kerry himself. The candidate may not have been a natural politician, but he was able to spot the power of the Internet, particularly as a fund-raising tool, before most of his advisers did.

Jordan's second fatal error was more personal. He alienated the candidate's family. Kerry is something of a loner; unlike most presidential candidates, he does not have a longtime political consigliere or friend who regularly travels with him on the plane. His only consistent adviser was his brother, Cameron, a Boston lawyer, a low-key figure who was devoted but not politically savvy. Jordan did not have much use for Cam. "He's no Robert Kennedy," said Jordan, and to Kerry, bluntly: "Keep your brother out of my way."

Kerry bridled at Jordan's impertinence, and he was especially protective of his wife, Teresa, who often clashed with Jordan. Teresa could be an earth mother, warm and funny, sometimes in an oddball way, and embracing to her friends and family. She liked to hand out her recipe for "Mama T's brownies" (she has 26 godchildren, who call her Mama T). But, in the manner of the very rich, she had an air of entitlement, a sharp temper, and she was known for keeping people, including her husband, waiting. The staff regarded her as something of a hypochondriac, and she canceled three trips in October--to Arizona, Pennsylvania and New Mexico--at the last minute, usually for what was described to aides as a "nonspecific malady."

Kerry seemed to be walking on eggshells around Teresa. He wanted her to be happy, in part because she was much more trouble on the campaign trail when she was unhappy. Teresa had a way of letting everyone know that Kerry was her second husband, and that she still loved her first, Sen. John Heinz, who died in a plane crash in 1991. (The portraits of the two Johns hang side by side in her Georgetown mansion.) Teresa above all valued her own candor. She wanted to be able to talk about her Botox injections and yak with women reporters about her views on reincarnation and the pros and cons of hormone-replacement therapy. She did not want to hear about "message discipline." Indeed, her frankness could be refreshing. Some crowds responded with "you go, girl" enthusiasm when she made fun of her husband and voiced a strong opinion on the trail. But others wondered why the slightly eccentric woman introducing the candidate was prattling on about herself in a difficult-to-understand accent. She was not one for the plastic, adoring smile of the traditional candidate's wife. On the other hand, Kerry's handlers wondered, did she have to look sullen?

At one point in the summer, as Dean was starting to pull away, Teresa called Jordan and demanded, "I want you to issue a challenge for me to debate Howard Dean." Jordan was less than diplomatic in telling her it was a crazy idea, and he had a little too much fun sharing the moment with other campaign officials. Jordan's e-mails trashing the candidate's wife, or word of them, inevitably reached his rivals--including Bob Shrum. An old friend of Teresa's from the Georgetown chattering-class party circuit, Shrum understood her moods and saw her importance to Kerry. Teresa and Shrum enjoyed drinking vintage wine together and commiserating about Jordan, sealing his fate.