A look at the hopeful Dems

Four congressional candidates, and not a politico among them.

"I'm not a politician" has been the well-intended, but now common, refrain offered by Democrats in the campaign to replace Rep. Dennis Hastert in the 14th Congressional District.

Meant as a way to distance themselves from party politics and business as usual in Washington, the phrase has provided another common thread linking candidates Bill Foster, John Laesch, Joe Serra and Jotham Stein.

From a policymaking standpoint, the quartet's overall philosophies align fundamentally and closely when it comes to, among others, withdrawing troops from Iraq, border security and reducing the middle-class tax burden.

Agree as they might, the candidates often are the only ones able to point out what makes them different.

Stein says he's the lone candidate talking about hungry children; Foster thinks his scientific approach works across the board; Laesch keys on his military background; and Serra touts a true "moderate" stance.

The outward signs of difference are clear when Stein attacks "wealthy millionaire scientist" Foster for trying to buy the election. Foster, in turn, recently has put sights on Republicans and the March 8 special general election to fill out the remainder of Hastert's term. Meanwhile, Laesch subtly gives off a been-there, done-that aura signifying he's a different candidate from the one who lost to Hastert in 2006.

Still, through all the debates, door-to-door campaigning and quieter moments along the way, each offers the "not a politician" reminder at some point.

So then, who exactly are they?

The guarded scientist

The rare moment of introspection came in the backseat of a campaign worker's car.

Foster, 52, described a particularly good spot at Fermilab's Wilson Hall to watch sunsets. Painting the scene, Foster segued into a mild reminiscence of the job and friends he had for two decades. Does he miss it?

"A lot, at times," Foster answered frankly.

Minutes later, Foster tells the story of how a computer program he created to bolster Rep. Patrick Murphy's 2006 run for Congress was cited by Murphy's campaign manager for the victory. That e-mail, which he still has, is when he knew the move from science to politics was the right decision, he said.

Leaning heavily on his background as a businessman and a scientist, Foster has led a straightforward campaign that seems to exemplify a scientific approach. In forums, debates and most interviews, he often takes responses directly from his notes, but he's quick to point out that's not a sign of unfamiliarity with the issues.

Instead, it's his way of avoiding a fatal campaign mistake he fears could undo the hard work of his supporters.

You're "always 20 seconds away from ruining your campaign," Foster explains. "The same is true in government. You really have to have someone who thinks before speaking."

Like his Democratic counterparts, Foster promises change in Washington. He insists his experience, especially in science, provides an advantage when dealing with the complex issues of global warming and energy independence, as well as in taking reasoned approaches to pulling troops out of Iraq or fixing the national debt.

"You just have to continue to comb the lice out of government," he said.

Acknowledging he's not the "loudest voice in the room" or the most-polished, Foster said he can make a difference in the small groups where policies are formed.

"Good policy should pass no matter" who proposes it, said Foster, co-founder of a theater lighting company.

During a recent door-knocking venture on Aurora's May Street, the small settings are living and dining rooms. Foster talks with a Hispanic woman who says health care for seniors and children and immigration are on her mind. Staying close to the message, though in fewer specifics, Foster stoically assures the woman he'll work for her. She later agrees to put a campaign sign in her yard, while her daughter was scheduled for a ride to vote early the next day.

Foster's campaign -- clearly the biggest among Dems, with two offices and 70 field staff -- estimates 52,000 voters in the Feb. 5 primary. He's pulled financial support from former co-workers and family members, including his ex-wife.

The grass-roots veteran

Lt. Gov. Pat Quinn had just endorsed Laesch and was barely out the door when the real work began for the Yorkville resident. Cell phone intermittently attached to his ear, Laesch helped a campaign worker straighten out a computer issue and prepared for the final day of fundraising.

"He personally feels the call," Laesch's father, Jim, surmised of his son's work.

Inside the campaign's downtown Aurora headquarters, a giant outline of the 14th District is painted on one wall, the top portion of the U.S. Constitution on another.

His military experience and work as a union carpenter are frequently cited to separate him from Stein and Foster, and his call for a minimum federal funding level for education and cuts to war funding stand in contrast to them. He proudly says his platform is all his own, with only the "idea mill" of two top campaign workers and his wife, Jennifer, to tweak his writing.

Among the candidates, Laesch carries the most political background, from volunteer work to his unsuccessful run at Hastert in 2006. His tales of a forming political life include making $400 a week and sleeping on a couch during Dennis Kucinich's failed 2004 presidential bid, as well as his brother's deployment to Iraq.

"I've never looked back, ever," Laesch says of his political career.

At 33, Laesch suggests he has a "longer vision" and deeper commitment this time around versus his 2006 bid, which garnered him 40 percent of the vote. Taking a lighter tone, Laesch also says getting married and overcoming his dislike of regularly wearing a suit are the other big changes from his last campaign.

The consultant

Serra, 46, thinks his dilemma comes not from matching policy with the three other Democrats. He says Illinois' primary system, combined with his moderate tendencies, make for his biggest obstacles.

Voters on Feb. 5 must select either a Democratic or Republican ballot. Serra says his "sometimes liberal and sometimes conservative leanings" put possible supporters in a tough spot if they usually vote GOP.

"There's a lot of disenfranchised voters out there like myself," Serra, a St. Charles native, explains.

Nevertheless, Serra promotes himself as a "consultant" to the voting public.

"I give you all the information, you decide," he says of his low-key campaign. "No one is telling me what to say. I'm an independent thinker."

Iraq, the economy and immigration rate as his top issues.

"I hate the war, I hate the situation over there," Serra says of Iraq, adding he wants to see greater support for troops.

He also wants "as much funding as possible" to help curb violence and get the Iraqi government in order. Doing so would allow for troop withdrawals within the next two years. Homeland security and troop support are two areas he feels have been relatively untouched throughout the race.

Echoing sentiments of his opponents, Serra wants to get rid of President George W. Bush's tax cuts that benefit the rich. Not in favor of total amnesty for undocumented immigrants, Serra describes a plan where citizenship is earned only after someone admits to being here illegally and pays a fine. He'd also put the onus on employers for making sure workers are legal.

Serra acknowledges he's "flip-flopped" on the Prairie Parkway. Previously opposed to the Hastert-led project to link major interstates in western Kane and Kendall counties because of the farmland it would destroy, Serra now thinks expected growth in that corridor makes the highway necessary.

Dismissing debates and candidate forums as "dog and pony shows with feathers and glitter," Serra has maintained a campaign on his own terms.

"I have no money, there's no fundraising going on -- and that's fine," the married father of six explains. "The only way to beat money is by working hard."

"Why keep going? Because it's important to me to discuss (these issues)," Serra says. "Absolutely, I can win. So can Foster, so can Laesch, so can Jotham."

The pitch man

Stein's perspective on the election is simple.

If voters care and listen to the issues, he will be one step closer to Washington. Since launching his oft-mentioned Web site nearly a year ago, Stein has taken no shortcuts in telling people he has "real solutions" to our nation's problems.

That includes occasionally butting heads with advisers who tell him to stick to the war and immigration reform when Stein wants to talk about children in need of food and health care.

"I make the decision," Stein, 45, says, his Long Island accent apparent.

With his wife an Illinois native, Stein and family moved to Geneva from California in 2005. Learning he moved into Hastert's district prompted a strong response.

"I almost had a heart attack," he quips, adding his mood didn't improve knowing former Rep. Henry Hyde's district was nearby.

Moved by politicians who refused to take concrete stands on difficult issues, Stein decided to get involved full bore with 12 detailed policy statements he can't fit into tight debate time frames. His 10-point plan to fix global warming is among the lengthier. He spices up the platform, and attacks Foster's wealth, in YouTube videos that have Stein playing with snow and shopping at the grocery store.

Yet, before dawn on a Metra platform or traipsing through a northeast Aurora neighborhood on a bitterly cold morning, Stein knows how to be brief when he has to. As late commuters dart for their train, Stein offers a handshake, a quick mention of his run for Congress and hands off campaign literature.

He ends most exchanges with a simple, "I'd be grateful for your vote."

"I've always known there are a lot of good people out there," Stein, an attorney, said of his campaign trail encounters.

Stein's team expects a turnout in the range of 40,000 for the primary. Stein is "absolutely not" scared of losing because he has no doubts that he'll win.