THIS IS WHAT THE DEATH of a political campaign looks like.
At 9:45 a.m. on Friday, October 25, Democratic gubernatorial candidate Tony Sanchez stands in front of a bank of cameras and microphones at his Dallas campaign office. Though he is engulfed in a sea of chanting, sign-waving partisans, he is grim-faced and visibly angry. Behind him are his wife, Tani, and their four children. They have been with him everywhere, mingling with supporters at political events, shaking hands, smiling and waving.
But this morning they look pale, somber, and uncharacteristically untelegenic. This