Vanessa Kerry, as predicted, delivered a sincere and humorous speech meant to present her father in a familiar and human light. And from this seat, it seems the crowd believes she did just that. Take, for example, her first line:

Thank you. As someone who knows all 6 foot 4 inches of my dad best — 6 foot 6 if you count the hair — I’m here to share some secrets.

Full text in the extended entry.

Vanessa Kerry’s Speech Before the Democratic National Convention, Thursday, July 29, 2004

Thank you. As someone who knows all 6 foot 4 inches of my dad best — 6 foot 6 if you count the hair — I’m here to share some secrets.

Over the years, I’ve come to know him in many ways — through the silly moments, when he laughs with his head thrown back and his shoulders rocking, and through sad moments such as when my grandmother lay dying and also through warm moments when he enveloped me in that Dad hug that overwhelmed me with a feeling of safety.

People ask why Alex and I are so close to our dad — especially since he loved to mortify us when we were little by showing up to our sports games in a bright orange hunting hat and cheered what seemed just a tad too loudly. As I’ve thought about it, I realize it is because he and our mother have given us great gifts: a willing ear, unwavering respect for our choices, and unconditional love.

During the course of this campaign, I’ve heard people talk about John Kerry the father and John Kerry the public servant as if they were two people divided. But, I can assure you all they are truly one and the same. I know his values-revealed in quiet 11 p.m. phone calls of frustration from what he’s seen at work, or the simple reminder that we never turn our backs on those in need. What drives my father to serve is exactly what has made this public servant the father I’m proud of, look up to, and love.

I would like to give you all an inside scoop on this past December. I traveled with my father almost every day of that long, cold month. And I promise you there was not one moment where he doubted his ability to win. Not one week when he lost his fight. He was convinced when others were not. He had the courage to take risks and to fight for his beliefs when others may have given up. He never wavered, he never faltered and he stayed the course.

In that snowy month at a Derry, N.H., chili feed, my father looked to the packed crowd and said, “I want you to look at my heart, my mind and my gut and ask yourself, what kind of president will I be?” It is an important question. What will guide the conscience of a man in his toughest hours, amid the hardest decisions?

Here’s my answer. My father loves this country and is ready to lead it. He believes in challenging oneself to dream and to follow. He believes that fear is limiting, while determination, innovation and optimism will allow us to surpass our own best hopes. And at my father’s core is integrity.

I was reminded of this one fall day two years ago. My grandmother was ailing, and no longer able to leave her bed. She loved autumn, and my father wanted to find a way to bring the foliage to her. Together, we devised a plan that involved copper wire, collected leaves and a little imagination. I watched my 6’4” father hunch over a tiny 8” copper tree. And I watched the focus and the love with which he twisted the wire into a trunk, teasing out the branches and finally weaving the foliage into a rounded tree top. And I noticed the gleam in my grandmother’s eye as her son brought a little bit of autumn to her bedside.

A little while later, he told her his plan to run for president. With a sigh of relief, she said “It’s about time.” And then she smiled, and said, “Johnny, remember integrity.” But it was not so much a reminder as a value she knew her son shared. A statement of need for the times we face today.

We are in a season of great possibility and great hope. And for me that possibility is marked by a tree now on my father’s desk. The leaves are a little worn but the message is still strong. It is one of promise, and hope, of a willing ear and unconditional love, of unwavering respect, and the most important quality which makes all else possible (and I assure you is in his gut) — integrity. And now I’d like to introduce my sister, Alexandra Kerry.

Source: Democratic National Convention Committee