The Softer Side of John Kerry

Jim Rassmann stood in a California bookstore in January with tears in his eyes, clutching a copy of Tour of Duty, Douglas Brinkley's biography of John Kerry.

The story of how Kerry saved Rassmann's life in Vietnam 35 years ago was all in there in the book—how, on March 13, 1969, Rassmann was blown into the Bay Hap River by a mine detonated under a nearby boat, and how Kerry, a patrol-boat commander, wounded by the same explosion, turned back for Rassmann and pulled him aboard.

That day in the bookstore, Rassmann, a former Army Green Beret and a registered Republican, decided to pledge his support for the Democratic presidential contender. His call reached the Kerry campaign on Jan. 16, three days before the Iowa caucuses.

At the time, Kerry had been airing several emotional ads in Iowa that it believed were connecting with voters. One featured Del Sandusky, the pilot who steered Kerry's boat back to rescue Rassmann. (In the spot, Sandusky says, "The decisions that he made saved our lives. He had unfailing instinct and unchallengeable leadership.") On Saturday, Jan. 17, Kerry shook Rassmann's hand for the first time in more than 30 years before a crowd of Iowa voters. Both men were in tears.

"It was just an amazing thing, and it reinforced the advertising," says Jim Margolis, a senior partner at political consulting firm GMMB in Washington, D.C., and a top Kerry media strategist. "The combination of the Del Sandusky advertising on the air and the Rassmann story was very powerful to Iowa voters."

The human dimension that Rassmann gave to Kerry's war record came unexpectedly. But it fit well into a strategy that Kerry's image handlers were already implementing: of adding a measure of likability to Kerry's electability—of giving him a softer side. In ads and in person, the Massachusetts senator is working to present himself as an everyday guy. Still, it is a balancing act: He must be seen as both personable and strong, down to earth and presidential. In essence, he must become a man of the people, while remaining a man of dignity and stature.

Early on in the campaign, convincing the public of Kerry's tough side was a challenge all its own. In November, with his campaign flagging and his speeches often falling flat, Kerry fired his campaign manager and named Mary Beth Cahill, Sen. Edward Kennedy's former chief of staff, to the position. She chose to focus strongly on Iowa.

At the same time, Mike Donilon, a partner at Washington political consultancy Shrum, Devine & Donilon, who has worked on a number of Kerry's ads, believed the campaign should stress Kerry's qualifications with a spot focusing on what he would do in his first 100 days as president.

For Donilon, it