several passersby wished me well

I started the day that would change my life in the usual way, with an early-morning jog. I went out the back gate of the Governors Mansion, through the old Quapaw Quarter, then downtown to the Old State House. The grand old place, where I had held my first reception when I was sworn in as attorney general in 1977, was already decked out in American flags. After I ran past it, turned, and headed for home, I saw a newspaper vending machine. Through the glass, I could read the headline: Hour Arrives for Clinton. On the way home, several passersby wished me well. Back at the mansion I took a last look at my announcement speech. I had worked on it until well past midnight; it was full of what I felt was good rhetoric and specific policy proposals, but still too long, so I cut a few lines. At noon, I was introduced on the stage by our state treasurer, Jimmie Lou Fisher, who had been with me since 1978. I started out a little awkwardly, probably because of the conflicting feelings flooding through me. I was at once reluctant to abandon the life I knew and eager for the challenge, a little afraid but sure I was doing the right thing. I spoke for more than half an hour, thanking my family, friends, and supporters for giving me the strength to step beyond a life and job I love, to make a commitment to a larger cause: preserving the American dream, restoring the hopes of the forgotten middle class, reclaiming the future for our children. I closed with a pledge to give new life to the American dream by forming a new covenant with the people: more opportunity for all, more responsibility from everyone, and a greater sense of common purpose. When it was over, I felt elated and excited, but maybe relieved more than anything else, especially after Chelsea wisecracked, Nice speech, Governor. Hillary and I spent the rest of the day receiving well-wishers, and Mother, Dick, and Roger all seemed happy about it, as did Hillarys family. Mother acted as if she knew I would win. As well as I knew her, I couldnt be sure if it was truly how she felt or just another example of her game face. That night we gathered around the piano with old friends. Carolyn Staley played, just as she had done since we were fifteen. We sang Amazing Grace and other hymns, and lots of songs from the sixties, including Abraham, Martin, and John, a tribute to the fallen heroes of our generation. I went to bed believing we could cut through the cynicism and despair and rekindle the fire those men had lit in my heart. Governor Mario Cuomo once said we campaign in poetry but we govern in prose. The statement is basically accurate, but a lot of campaigning is prose, too: putting together the nuts and bolts, going through the required rituals, and responding to the press. Day two of the campaign was more prose than poetry: a series of interviews designed to get me on television nationally and in major local markets, and to answer the threshold question of why I had gone back on my commitment to finish my term and whether that meant I was untrustworthy. I answered the questions as best I could and moved on to the campaign message. It was all prosaic, but it got us to day three.