How John Kerry Won Iowa
Inside the last week of the Senator's surprising caucus surge
By
DOUGLAS WALLER
The Democratic Candidates: Living In Bill Clinton's Shadow

Tuesday, Jan. 20, 2004
As the caucuses were beginning Monday night, John Kerry was in Urbandale, Iowa. As caucuses go, Urbandale’s was a rich
prize seven precincts with 1,400 potential caucus-goers and Kerry wanted one last
chance at convincing the undecided Iowans there to side with him. Donna Wilcox, a 69-year-old
department store worker in Urbandale, still hadn’t decided between Kerry or North
Carolina Sen. John Edwards. Kerry asked her what problem worried her the most. For Wilcox it was health care for her parents, both in their 90s. Kerry
quickly outlined his health care plan, paid for by rolling back Bush’s tax
cuts for the wealthy. “I hope you’ll help me,” he pleaded.
“Okay,” Ms. Wilcox said, but she wanted to hear from Edwards’ precinct
captain first.
“Thanks for listening,” Kerry said, not knowing if he had won her over,
and rushed to another caucus goer.
It turns out Iowans were listening to John Kerry and Monday night they
handed him nothing short of an astounding come-from-behind victory. Kerry had
trounced the presumed front-runners, former Vermont Gov. Howard Dean and
Missouri Congressman Dick Gephardt. The Massachusetts senator won 38% of the caucus
vote, with Edwards taking 32% and Dean and Gephardt trailing badly at 18% and
11%.
“Thank you Iowa for making me the comeback Kerry,” the Massachusetts
senator roared to his faithful at election night party Monday. “Not so long ago
this campaign was written off.” But, Kerry said, “I have listened to you and I
have learned from you…You have made me a better candidate.”
The Kerry Surge
How did a candidate who just two weeks ago was considered dead in Iowa
pull off such a miraculous victory? Kerry’s turnaround began largely unnoticed
back in mid-November. With advice from outsiders like former President Bill
Clinton, Kerry had sharpened his populist message on the stump, delivering
shorter, less rambling speeches with snappier bight lines that connected with
audiences. With his poll numbers in New Hampshire free-falling, Kerry decided to
“bet the house on Iowa” to resuscitate his campaign. He blanketed the state with
about $2 million worth of television ads. Campaign workers were rushed into
the state during December, along with a crack field team headed by Michael
Whouley, who ran Al Gore’s ground game. Kerry, who had already raised some $20
million, pumped another $6.5 million from his own fortune into the campaign, much
of it going to Iowa, where he eventually assembled close to 120 paid
operatives.
The extra effort began to pay off by the beginning of January. At events
in both Iowa and New Hampshire, Kerry began to see far larger crowds,
and critical for his campaign more undecided voters showing up at events to check him
out. Slowly, Kerry’s poll numbers began to climb. By the beginning of last week, “Kerry was on fire,” said a campaign adviser.
Sunday night, his aides were stunned when 1,000 wildly cheering supporters
jammed into an Iowa State Fairgrounds hall in Des Moines, while another 500
shivering outside had to be put in an adjacent tent. “This is the most unfair
economy, the most unfair workplace that I have seen in all of my public life,”
Kerry thundered in a voice cracking and raspy from giving so many speeches.
“Americans are working for the economy and we deserve an economy that is working
for Americans.”
Kerry was clearly benefiting from voter concern over Dean’s verbal
missteps. Curt Nedoba, a 64-year-old Cedar Rapids psychotherapist, had been a
Dean supporter until two weeks ago. But he was sitting at a Kerry rally with Ted
Kennedy at a Waterloo elementary school Sunday afternoon and planning to
caucus for Kerry the next night. Dean had finally turned him off with the report
that he’d disparaged the Iowa caucuses four years ago as governor. That swipe
and “other Dean statements were kind of impulsive,” Nedoba believed, “and it
reminded me of the kind of things that George W. said. So if you want a change
you don’t want someone who’s unelectable.”
A Des Moines Register survey released Sunday morning had even better news for the Massachusetts senator: 26% for Kerry and 23% for Edwards with Dean
and Gephardt trailing badly at 20% and 18% respectively. Kerry’s internal
numbers still showed that Edwards had stalled by Friday, particularly with Iowans
who were more likely to attend caucuses. Nevertheless, a nervous Kerry took a
swipe at his new public rival. The party’s nominee, Kerry argued Sunday
evening, had to be seasoned in national security issues “to stand up to the
onslaught that will come from the Republicans.” Edwards had only four years of Senate
experience. “When I came back from Vietnam in 1969 I don't know if John Edwards
was out of diapers then,” Kerry said sarcastically. “Well, I'm sure he was out
of diapers." The 50-year-old Edwards was 16 at the time.
Last week’s surge by Kerry opened the money spigot for his
cash-strapped campaign. Kerry fundraisers who’d been stiff-armed a month ago
suddenly found more of their calls being returned for contributors. “The money is
coming in,” says one campaign adviser. Over a five-day period from last Monday
through Friday, the campaign collected about $300,000, a hefty one-week take
considering it had raised just $2.5 million from October through December.
About $100,000 of it was rushed to Iowa for last-minute get-out-the-vote efforts.
One sign that Kerry was gaining: By last Friday, Dean and Gephardt, who had been attacking each other
relentlessly, turned their guns on him, claiming the Senator was an enemy of farmers. A
Dean worker on Saturday passed out a sheet at a Kerry speech in Clinton, Iowa,
with a Kerry quote from a 1996 Worcester (Massachusetts) Telegram & Gazette
story that the federal government should “get rid of the Agriculture Department,
or at least render it three-quarters the size it is today.” Kerry, who had
the endorsement of Iowa’s agriculture secretary, Patty Judge, dismissed the
attack as a last-minute “smear effort.” Sunday, two Dean supporters stood out
front of Kerry’s rally in Waterloo holding a bed-sheet sign that read “Sen.
Kerry why didn’t you vote with Sen. Kennedy against the war,” referring to
Kerry’s support of the Iraq war resolution. Kerry was delighted with the barbs,
which he claimed showed that his campaign “is moving.” The last time the senator
took incoming fire from other candidates was at the beginning of the campaign
when he was considered the front-runner. (Kerry stayed positive in his TV ads,
but attacked Dean and Gephardt in campaign mailings.)
Winning the Ground War
Kerry’s aides would have been ecstatic if the surge in the polls had been
in New Hampshire, a primary state; but in a caucus state like Iowa the survey
numbers meant far less. They did create momentum for the campaign and heated
up the media buzz over Kerry, all of which helps entice supporters to go to
the caucuses “because they like to be with a winner,” said Kerry’s Iowa
director John Norris. But as Kerry told more than 750 people Sunday at a
rally in an Iowa City mall, “polls don’t turn out caucus goers, people turn out
caucus goers.” It was the candidate with the best ground organization to turn
out caucus goers who wins in Iowa. The question senior Kerry advisers were
asking themselves privately: “can our ground organization catch up with the
momentum?” as one told TIME.
By last week, Kerry’s Iowa organization had begun to show results.
More than 450 out-of-state volunteers arrived the week of Jan. 12, according to
campaign aides, about ten times the number that showed up two weeks earlier.
The “night numbers” the week before the caucus the count of people campaign
workers called each evening who promised to attend the caucuses as Kerry
supporters were almost double what they had been four weeks earlier. Campaign
volunteers were reporting that they weren’t having to work as hard on follow-up phone
calls to keep people committed to spending their Monday night at a caucus.
Inside the campaign this was known as “flakage” among caucus goers. By last
week, “we were finding minimal flakage,” says Norris. It meant that Kerry
supporters were sticking with him.
A Vietnam War hero, Kerry had also invested heavily in Iowa’s vets, as a
counter to Dean’s thousands of young volunteers and Gephardt’s union muscle.
The campaign had identified about 160,000 veterans in the state, a little
under 50,000 of whom were registered as Democrats. Kerry campaigners had about
10,000 of the vets, along with many of their wives, signing pledge cards or
promising over the phone to attend the caucuses as supporters of the senator.
Phone banks manned veterans in Iowa and seven other states made 20,000 calls to
in the Hawkeye state.
Kerry had begun a routine at practically every American Legion Hall, Elks
Lodge and VFW post he visited to turn out more vet caucus goers. Three
Sundays ago, for example, 250 people braved a snowstorm in Indianola, Iowa to troop
to the local American Legion hall and hear Kerry. After a stirring
I'm-for-the-soldiers speech, Kerry asked for the veterans in the hall to stand up and be
honored. Seventy got out their seats. Campaign aides passed out supporter
cards to every one to recruit them as caucus delegates.
Caucus Night
The Kerry campaign, however, did not know whether this hurry-up drive to
recruit veterans was any match for the organizations Gephardt and Dean had on the
ground to turn out their caucus goers. The other candidates were going after
veterans as well. Gephardt had a formidable force of seasoned union
operatives blanketing the state. Dean had an army of young organizers turning out his
faithful along with a powerful set of endorsements that included former Vice
President Al Gore, former senator and presidential candidate Bill Bradley, Iowa’s
senior Sen. Tom Harkin and Ambassador Carol Mosely Braun who urged her caucus
goers to back Dean. “He should be blowing the socks off everyone,” a Kerry
adviser said Friday. The weather forecast for Monday night also worried Kerry’s
organizers bitter cold, which meant the best organized like Dean and Gephardt
would have a better chance at getting their supporters to leave their warm
homes.
Fortunately for Kerry, a large number of caucus goers remained undecided
even a day before the vote. But maddening for him, and the other candidates,
many of these Iowans walked into the caucus still with their minds not made up.
They were folks like Robert Beyers, a 54-year-old sheet metal worker from
Clinton, who found Kerry “interesting” but still an unknown quantity after
listening to him speak, and Beverly Smith, a 73-year-old retired school teacher
from Waterloo, who said Kerry “looks Linconesque” but, along with the rest of
the Democratic candidates, had yet to prove he “can beat George Bush.” Beverly
was getting so many phone calls from different campaigns desperate to know how
she planned to vote caucus night, she says she began to hang up on them.
By the end of last week Kerry’s aides worried privately that his momentum in
the polls could backfire by raising media expectations for a surprise
victory when his ground organization could only reasonably expect to produce a
second- or respectable third-place finish. “Six days ago we were absolutely
dead,” Whouly complained in one campaign meeting last week. “Now you want me
to win this thing?” Kerry, whose voice was growing raspy and whose body was
becoming bone tired from only four hours sleep a night, would have preferred to
have his surge sneak up unnoticed on the other candidates. But in an age of
instantly released tracking polls and 24-hour news coverage, that was impossible.
So Kerry faced the peculiar problem of peaking too early with poll numbers
that didn’t count.
But this time, the polls were surprisingly accurate. By the time
Kerry’s bus had returned to Des Moines Monday evening, his aides had alerted him
that he may have scored a stunning upset. Kerry planned to take a late night
flight to New Hampshire so he would be campaigning there Tuesday when the sun
rose. “I have only just begun to fight,” he vowed.
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