Excerpt: 'More Davids Than Goliaths,' by Harold Ford Jr.

Aug. 17, 2010 — -- On "Good Morning America" today you saw former Tennessee Rep. Harold Ford Jr. discussing the controversy surrounding a decision to build an Islamic center and mosque near the site of the World Trade Center terror attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.

In his book, "More Davids Than Goliaths: A Political Education," Ford writes about politics in America.

Read an excerpt of the book below and then head to the "GMA" Library to find more good reads.

The Apprentice

This is Harold Ford, Jr., and I'm campaigning for my daddy for Congress. If you want a better house to live in, better schools to go to, and lower cookie prices, vote for my daddy." I made my first political ad when I was four years old. It was 1974, and my father was running for Congress. My mom propped me up on a brown folding table at the back of my dad's campaign headquarters and I spoke into a microphone attached to a cassette recorder.

I did it in one take.

Politics was ingrained in me early. It was part of me in the best of ways. For my entire life, I've met and heard people, especially other politicians, talk about how they started early in politics by handing out leaflets, brochures, and so on. My start in politics was equally honest -- a commercial for my dad on his first congressional campaign. In a lot of ways, politics was -- and remains -- a part of my genetic makeup, and, for that matter, so was my party identification. I learned to be a Democrat the old-fashioned way: I was told that I was going to be one by my father and mother.

The campaign headquarters was a comfortable setting for me. I was there almost every day. My folks would pick me up at preschool and take me to the headquarters, where I delighted in the hustle and bustle and the steady inrush and outrush of staff and volunteers. For as long as I can remember, I've loved being around people.

As a kid, I always felt comfortable around adults. I didn't necessarily prefer adults over my peers, but sitting with, listening to, and talking in front of adults never really bothered me or made me nervous. I wasn't overconfident or anything like that. But I wasn't lacking confidence—I get that from both my mom and my dad. Nor was I different from other kids my age in that I enjoyed and played sports. It was more that I wanted to be a part of the conversation—I wanted to help in any way I could. I felt a particular but unarticulated closeness to the politics surrounding me—perhaps because it was my family involved and my dad's name on the ballot.

A few days after I made the ad, I heard it on the radio. I was sitting between my parents in the car. My mother smiled. My father grinned. I remember, at a precocious moment, thinking at the time, "I enjoy talking, and I really enjoy talking about campaigning." Although I didn't appreciate what exactly my dad was going to do to get people better homes and kids better schools, I knew he was going to try.

After the ad, I started going to more and more campaign events with my parents. It isn't uncommon for politicians to introduce their families or even to ask their families to join them onstage while they are speaking. And my dad would often do that. He would sometimes allow me to introduce him, and I often repeated my line from the radio ad. The cookie line was my favorite line in the introduction—my mother drafted that line. When introducing my dad, I always committed the additional lines to memory. I never used notes or read from a prepared text—even to this day, I don't use prepared remarks. I will sometimes refer to notes, but never a written speech. I don't use prepared remarks primarily because I find them hard to read with passion, sincerity, and force.

I remember speaking at one of my father's congressional prayer breakfasts in Memphis when I was seven. My dad's speaker that year was his congressional colleague and my parents' longtime friend Andrew Young. I helped introduce Congressman Young. I reminded the audience how much a role model Congressman Young was to people of all ages, especially for aspiring politicians like me. Prior to the speech, I remember going with my dad and some other politicians to meet with Congressman Young in his hotel in downtown Memphis. I sat at the dining room table in the hotel with Congressman Young and my dad as they discussed politics. I was just absorbing. My dad's focus was always people, especially hardworking poor people. My dad was listening closely to Congressman Young talk about how he and Maynard Jackson had built a black-white coalition in Atlanta premised on propelling black elected officials into high political offices and growing business opportunities for the entire Atlanta business community, including minority businesses. Memphis's persistent and pernicious occupation with race had prevented us from electing an African American mayor and widening sustainable business opportunities and growth to black businesses in the city. My dad's belief was that a racially diverse and successful Memphis business community was essential to better political and social cohesion in Memphis. One of the keys to realizing that dream was for the Memphis political landscape to become more racially and politically diverse first. Atlanta was a model for Memphis.

One of the things I learned from my dad at an early age about politics was never to allow jealousy, envy, or pettiness to get in the way of learning from a political peer. My dad inspired and taught a lot of politicians, younger and older, but he never shied away from learning himself. Andrew Young and Maynard Jackson are two southern politicians whom my dad respected and learned from.

Growing up in a political household seemed normal because it's all I knew. There were three basic givens in the house for Jake, Isaac, and me. We had to do our homework every night, we had to go to church every Sunday (and oftentimes Sunday school), and we worked on political campaigns for my dad and my uncles.