The Columnist Who Shut Up to Speak Out

"When somebody asks a question, I feel I can't immediately answer. I have to say, 'Sherrod's particularly outspoken about this,' " Schultz says. "Thank God we agree on almost everything. If we didn't, I don't know how I'd do this."

Twice, people have pasted DeWine stickers over the bumper sticker on her car, the one that reads, "Well-behaved women rarely make history."

"A little hostility out there?" she asks in mock innocence.

Then there was her parking lot encounter with the man who pointed to the "Brown for Senate" sticker on her car and said, "I wouldn't be caught dead with that guy's bumper sticker." He told her it was not too late to repent, she remembers.

"It really is too late," Schultz replied.

"Why?"

"I married the guy."

The Opponent's Wife

Fran DeWine married her guy, too, 39 years ago. The wedding was two weeks after her 20th birthday, because she believed teenage marriages were doomed. Even then, she had already dated Mike DeWine for longer than Schultz and Brown have known each other.

She takes a softer approach than Schultz when promoting her husband's candidacy. Through 30 years of political life since DeWine won his first race for Green County prosecutor, Fran DeWine says she has overcome an initial shyness. She hands out her trademark 24-page cookbook, paid for by the Ohio GOP, and frequently mentions her eight children and nine grandchildren.

"First of all, I talk about Mike and I, knowing him since we started first grade together," DeWine says by telephone from Northern Virginia as she bakes banana bread for her youngest daughter's cross-country meet.

"I don't go into the details he goes into, but I like to tell what he spends his time doing," says DeWine. She talks of her husband's work on the Senate Intelligence Committee, his role on children's issues and his ability to deliver money to Ohio. "He's my best friend and I help him and we work together, but there is no role, 'Political Spouse.' I think everyone has to decide for themselves."

DeWine would not discuss Schultz's approach or her campaign trail commentary.

"I try not to know," DeWine says. "I want to go ahead and lead my life and I don't want to worry about that."

Schultz, meanwhile, is saying of Mike DeWine at a fundraiser, "Forget that he's lying about Sherrod's record; he's trafficking in a national tragedy for political gain." She is referring to an advertisement, later pulled, that included a doctored photograph: The producers had added more smoke to the burning World Trade Center.

The DeWine campaign stands by its effort to portray Brown as too liberal for Ohio, unable to work with Republicans and unwilling to take essential steps against terrorism.

At the fundraiser, put together by supporters calling themselves Brown-Nosers, Schultz is billed as the star. The first 20 people donating at least $300 are promised a signed copy of her book.

When Schultz begins to speak, she announces a surprise guest, one Sherrod Brown, who has flown in from Washington. As she steps back and he steps up, someone calls out, "We want Connie!"

Brown, who cried when he learned Schultz had won the Pulitzer and sometimes refers to her in e-mails as PPWCS, says a November win would bring a January trifecta: Ohio Democrats in the Senate and the governor's mansion, and Schultz's column back in the Plain Dealer.

"So many people, especially women, are really moved by what she writes about," said supporter Brittany O'Connor, who brought her mother to hear Schultz speak. "I wonder if the Plain Dealer will let her."

Hoping to Return

"It does make me uneasy," says Plain Dealer Editor Douglas Clifton. "I'm kind of old-school when it comes to drawing the line between what a reporter can and can't say or do in political campaigns."

After meeting and marrying Brown, Schultz avoided writing about issues he pushed in Congress. But she and Clifton saw that a statewide race would be trickier to navigate.

"I still want to write about what's on my mind, but that is becoming increasingly difficult," Schultz wrote in her final column. "Each passing week brings more limitations on my choice of topics because there is a concern that some will accuse me of using my column to stump for my husband."

As a woman and a feminist, she found the idea that she was "merely parroting" her husband both amusing and offensive, she wrote in that last column. But she was mindful of the appearance of a conflict of interest, as well as problems her presence might cause for colleagues covering the race.

Schultz expects to return. Clifton recently assured her that he wants her back, aware that some readers will view her work through the prism of her campaign efforts.

"In the end," Clifton says, "I have every confidence in her integrity."

Three former journalists who now spend time considering ethical quandaries say the potential conflict is made manageable by the fact that Schultz is campaigning for her husband -- turning down requests from other candidates -- and that she is an opinion writer, not a beat reporter.

"I would be more tolerant of a spouse campaigning for a wife or husband," says former ABC News reporter Bob Zelnick, who teaches journalism ethics at Boston University. He adds, however, that Schultz would be "better advised to be a little bit less sharp and pointed in her attacks on her husband's opponents."

* * *

There are 21 days to go in the campaign. As the pace quickens and the pitch of television commercials grows sharper, most polls show Brown ahead of DeWine in a race professionals expect to remain close.

Schultz crisscrosses the state, keeping in touch with Brown via BlackBerry and cellphone, grabbing catnaps on long drives to Avon. Every day, she laments columns unwritten. But Schultz is taking notes for a campaign memoir. She will call it "And His Lovely Wife."