The Road Warrior

In 1998, Edwards ran for Senate. He believes "he's got an obligation bigger than himself," says Elizabeth, "to do work that Wade would be proud of." Edwards was an unknown outside legal circles, but threw himself into the campaign with his usual intensity. Penry, his former law colleague, says Edwards would "be at his desk making phone calls" to potential supporters "15 hours a day." It didn't hurt that Edwards—who now has an estimated net worth of $30 million—put $6 million into his own coffers. His first campaign touched on many of the common-man themes he uses today. He was going to be the voice of the little guy in Washington, D.C. Edwards dispatched his Democratic rival, and then defeated the incumbent, GOP Sen. Lauch Faircloth, painting him as an ineffective voice for the people.

Junior senators are usually seen more than they are heard, but Democratic elders had plans for the telegenic lawyer. He scored a prized seat on the Judiciary Committee, where he used his courtroom skills to grill White House appointees before C-Span cameras. In North Carolina, though, some people began grumbling that the freshman senator was more interested in his newfound celebrity in Washington than he was in working for the people back home. Political pros speculated that he was already getting ready to run for president.

They were right. Ed Turlington, an old Edwards law colleague who had worked on Bill Bradley's presidential campaign, says he had a serious discussion with Edwards about a possible presidential run in fall 2001—just three years after Edwards had won his very first election to anything. (Al Gore had briefly considered him for veep in 2000.) Edwards started showing up in Iowa and New Hampshire, and once again began dialing for dollars. Turlington would go on to chair his 2004 campaign.

Edwards positioned himself as a cheerful optimist who refused to join in the nasty tit-for-tat between the front runners, Dean and Dick Gephardt. "If you're looking for the candidate who will do the best job of attacking the other Democrats, I'm not your guy," he said. Iowa voters wound up punishing Dean and Gephardt. Kerry and Edwards took the No. 1 and 2 spots.

It was an impressive showing, but Edwards couldn't hold on past Super Tuesday. After dropping out, he immediately got to work persuading Kerry's campaign to pick him for vice president. The Kerry-Edwards union was uneasy from the start. There were little things: Edwards wanted to lead audiences in his "Hope is on the way!" cheer. Kerry thought "Help is on the way" sounded more dignified. Neither man would budge, and they wound up using two different slogans. There were also larger differences. When Kerry came under the Swift Boat attacks over his war record, Edwards urged him to fight back early. Kerry believed it was beneath him to dignify his attackers with a response.

Yet Edwards himself delivered a lackluster performance in his big campaign moment: his debate against Vice President Dick Cheney. Cheney came looking for a fight; Edwards remained deferential to the veep and missed obvious opportunities to strike back. Edwards, the master courtroom performer, came off as unprepared. At the time, some in the Kerry camp groused that Edwards was already thinking about 2008 and didn't want to damage his sunny reputation. But Edwards insists he dedicated himself to the Kerry cause. "I believed in him," he tells NEWSWEEK. "And I advocated for him with everything I had."

The day after the election was lost, Elizabeth was diagnosed with breast cancer. While she underwent chemotherapy, the couple spent hours talking about his next move. The treatment was successful, and she went into remission. She says she wanted him to run again.