Four Trials, by John Edwards: on Principles & Values

On birth of 1st son, thanked wife for what he always wanted

While the anesthesiologist hovered over Elizabeth, she strained to listen to her obstetrician and heard him say, "It's dead." The stillborn baby [from a previous pregnancy] fresh on her mind, she was frantic. Elizabeth did not know that they were talking about the cauterizing machine, which had lost power. It was nearly midnight on July 18 before she was finally relieved by the sight of our son, alive, healthy, and loud.

When they brought him to me, fresh from delivery, he was discolored and bruised. He was also the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. All I could say to Elizabeth was "Thank you for giving me what I always wanted."

Makes most speeches from notes, not a prepared text

Mill-town job persuaded him to get college education

The weaving room was massive, with great throbbing looms and a big system of ducts that pulled as much dust as possible out of the generally foul air. The noise was deafening, the ducts poorly lit, and the lint that stuck to them was black and wet. I was sixteen, and my job was to clean those ducts. At night I would come home caked with sweat and covered with some obscure residue, and my mother's face would always grow tense as she opened the door and I walked into her clean house. "Now you see," my dad would say, "why you need to go to college."

Lawyers help people, lawmakers help many people

Unfortunately, the insurance company also did what many powerful businesses do, lobbied the state legislature. Soon a bill was passed disallowing punitive damage awards against a company as a result of an employee's actions, unless that particular action was specifically ratified by corporate officers.

Yes, our lawsuit had sent a message, and that message ultimately was: if you don't like the law, change it. The message to me was: If you can't help enough people being a lawyer, consider being a lawmaker.

Climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro with his teenage son

By the fifth night, before the six-hour push to reach the summit by dawn, I was feeling as helpless as a child. When a harsh chill set in around midnight, I simply couldn't go on. [My climbing partner] asked, "What do you want out of this trip?" I said weakly, "for Wade to make it to the top." And so we agreed: the other three would go on, while I would stay behind with one of the porters.

They made the summit just after dawn. My son said, "I never would have thought I would have been able to do something so hard." The three began the 14-hour journey downhill. Just then, a battered sight came into view. It was me--numb toes, pounding headache, and all. They joined me for the short ascent to the summit.

It took months for two of my toes to regain their feeling. But that wasn't what mattered. That trip to Africa with my son is worth a book in itself. It was worth everything.

Lost teenage son in a traffic accident

I cannot tell you why such care was not enough that afternoon. I can only say that there are crosswinds on certain stretches of that interstate, and one of them swept my boy off the road. Tyler walked away. Wade was dead.

My son Wade remains as alive in my heart today as he was alive in my heart then. Nothing in my life ever hit me and stripped everything away like my son's death.

At the funeral service, our house was filled with friends and family. Then it was not. For many weeks, we felt nothing in that house but Wade's absence.

But we were not about to let go of our son, and it was that determination that brought us out from the paralysis of grief. Elizabeth and I formed the nonprofit Wade Edwards Foundation.