Nothing about Iowa is glamorous. The star quality that passes for currency in New York and Los Angeles is as alien to the Hawkeye state as a palm tree. That is why every four years, with the influx of people and attention that comes with the Iowa Caucuses, Iowans feel like they have been transported to another world.

And so did I. Walking among the politicos, journalists, wonks and other suited outsiders that deplaned with me in the Des Moines airport this December felt like being in a raiding party; we were entering a foreign land in search of democratic booty.
The plunder would not be easy to come by. When I arrived in Iowa there were three weeks left until the caucus and the polls showed John Edwards, Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama in a three-way tie.

Edwards was my candidate. Without the vindicating results of Iowa and South Carolina’s contests, Obama’s artful rhetoric seemed little more than cake icing. And anyway, if Obama really stands for the whole country, why isn’t his health care plan universal? Clinton’s claims of independence and a readiness for change were and remain insubstantial pandering; how independent can you be if you accept more lobbying money (to the tune of tens of millions of dollars) from pharmaceutical and defense corporations than any other member of congress? John Edwards, the old school populist, the class warrior liberal with no financial ties to special interests, was my guy, despite lacking the other candidates’ news support and a $100 million war chest.

It was impossible to spot the Edwards headquarters from the street except by the signs on the door and the rotating crowd of cigarette smokers outside of it (as my boss said, “if you don’t smoke on a campaign, there is something f***ing wrong with you”). Similarly nondescript buildings nearby played host to the Clinton and Obama campaigns; all of the high-profile downtown office spaces were occupied by the Republican candidates’ staff while we Dems held it down in the boonies.

It was clear that the office we were in was not meant for anything nearly as intricate as a modern large-scale grassroots campaign. The bottom floor was home to the field office (the branch of the campaign dedicated to non-mass media voter contact) while all the strategy, press and finance people who were either too important or not important enough to be with John on the stump were upstairs. I found my home below decks with the field people.
If a campaign is an army trying to win the caucus-battle, the field office is the infantry and logistics branch (the press specialists could be the air force, dropping bombs, the strategy people might be the intelligence and leadership, you get the idea). In the two weeks before caucus week we sent about 30 volunteers knocking door to door and made more than 1,000 phone calls per day.

The tempo increased exponentially in the last five days before the caucus when the 14 field organizers and I began the field blitz we had been planning. Every house of likely caucus-goers in every precinct in Des Moines would be contacted at least three times by phone and visited at least once at their door. We were marshaling our corps of volunteers to do battle with two better funded and better covered campaigns.

I worked in the largest caucus staging location for these last days, a gymnasium-sized union hall with one central room, a smoke-filled break room and dingy offices. Burly steel workers sat next to Southern belles in this melting pot of Edwards supporters, each working frantically for the cause.

When caucus day finally came, the weather changed drastically. It had been terrible for my first three weeks, never topping 15 degrees. On caucus day, the thermometer shot up to 35, melting ice and our clench on victory. Through our superbly organized field operation we had been able to contact every voter we thought would attend the caucus; according to their responses, Edwards would sweep.

The weather told a different story; it wouldn’t only be the hard-core activist Democrats (Edward’s base) that would make it out to the caucus as usual. First time caucus-goers (Obama’s chance for a win) and old people (Clinton’s coalition) would now surely find their way to caucus in the relative warmth. Our game plan, resting largely on the assumption that the level of caucus participation this year would remain similar to that of previous years, was burned by newly arrived sun.

The rest is history; Obama won by 8 percent in a caucus with almost double the turnout of 2004. Senator Obama’s appeal to traditionally politically inactive individuals is a powerful force, and the great weather of Jan. 3 certainly helped him bring them out. I was sad, even depressed, for a while. But now I am excited to support Obama against the establishment Democrats for Clinton, and to continue on the path fighting with the underdog in Iowa set for the next step of my political life.