Political trackers stay on the hunt for a 'gotcha'

In modern political warfare, they are spies hiding in plain sight.

They work day and night, showing up in every corner of the state, relentlessly shadowing candidates' every word and gesture with video cameras, waiting for that one off-message moment.

Gotcha.

They are called trackers and they have become indispensible infiltrators in big election contests like Minnesota's race for governor. This week, they also became the focus of fresh controversy when DFL candidate Mark Dayton accused GOP trackers of "harassment" for following him so closely at a weekend event. Republicans scoffed at the charge, saying trackers have become an accepted part of the political landscape.

On Tuesday, while a crowd filled Nisswa's Grand View Lodge for a gubernatorial debate, Abby Michaud quietly set up a small video camera on a tripod to start recording. When Dayton stepped offstage afterward to mingle, the 22-year-old Republican tracker whipped out a Flip camera to follow him around.

On her Twitter account, Michaud lists her occupation as GOP researcher and "professional stalker."

For months the University of Minnesota grad has tailed the leading DFL candidates in her white Volkswagen Jetta bearing a bumper sticker for GOP candidate Tom Emmer.

She hits the office early to troll campaign websites, Twitter and politics blogs in an attempt to ferret out campaign events to cover.

When she shows up, candidate supporters know why she's there and the glares can be discomfiting.

"This job has taught me a lot of about confidence," Michaud said.

Sam McCullough, 22, has worked as a DFL tracker since February, keeping tabs on Emmer, U.S. Rep. Michele Bachmann and a host of GOP candidates.

Like Michaud, McCullough said he always tries to be polite and forthcoming at candidate events.

"I never want to make the candidate uncomfortable," he said. "I want them to be as natural and organic as possible."

A mode of accountability

But underneath the friendly exterior is a serious intent.

When Dayton made a routine stop in Hibbing recently to meet with the local VFW, a tracker caught him saying he was opposed to a particular tax exemption for veterans. GOP officials quickly cranked out a news release headlined: "Trust Fund Baby Dayton Tells Hibbing Veteran He Opposes 'Little Tax Break' For Career Military Veterans." Dayton was forced to respond to the controversy at a news conference.

DFLers used tracker video of Emmer talking about state agency reductions at various events around the state to calculate his cuts in real terms: the loss of 13,000 government jobs.

"Part of it is to catch the 'macaca moment,' " said DFL Party Chair Brian Melendez, referring to the now-infamous footage of former Sen. George Allen using a racial slur to refer to a tracker. "But another part of it is to just find out what the other side is saying."

Republican Party Chairman Tony Sutton said it is a matter of "holding people accountable." Twenty years ago, a candidate could offer different messages depending on where they were and to whom they were talking. Trackers, Sutton said, ensure consistency. "It's the same job that the press does, only on a much broader scale," he said.

Track or provoke?

Dave Colling, who led DFLer Matt Entenza's gubernatorial campaign before Entenza lost the primary, started out as a tracker for Bill Clinton in 1996. Colling said he was dubbed "Secret Squirrel" for his ability to burrow into so many GOP events.

Back then, he would hold up a large cell phone at candidate speeches so his side could fire off responses in real time.

In recent years, he said, he's noticed that sometimes trackers crowd in a little closer than necessary. During the 2006 race between DFLer Mike Hatch and GOP Gov. Tim Pawlenty, Colling said he noticed Republican trackers edging closer than he'd seen before and conspicuously cutting through crowds to get to Hatch, who was known to have a volatile temper.

"I am not sure their job was to track so much as provoke," Colling said.

Then he saw how close GOP trackers stuck to Dayton at Game Fair on Saturday.

"I think they are trying to do the same thing with Dayton," said Colling, noting that the GOP has tried to paint Dayton as erratic. "They are being much more in-your-face than we had ever been," he said.

Bonding with the enemy

Trackers have their own tales of aggression. They've had supporters use signs and even their own bodies to block camera shots. They've been mocked, criticized and compared to terrorists.

In 2002, a Republican tracker accused a group of union members at a Paul Wellstone campaign event of assaulting him.

"It takes a lot of nerve and grit to do something like that because often times you're covering a candidate in a very hostile environment with all members of the opposition party around you," Sutton said.

But DFL and Republican trackers alike say that spirited gamesmanship comes with the job.

Sometimes, candidates can even turn the tables. Michaud was walking alongside former DFL gubernatorial candidate Margaret Anderson Kelliher on a farm near Moorhead during the primary campaign. Kelliher is fond of playing up her rural upbringing, but Michaud is quick to admit "I wasn't raised on a farm" and recalls that she had attended the event "in a dress and kind of nice shoes."

Suddenly, Michaud stepped in something and exclaimed, "Ah, I got mud all over my shoes." To which Kelliher replied, "Sweetie, that's not mud.'"

Gotcha.

Baird Helgeson • 612-222-1288, Eric Roper • 612-673-1732