Back on Home Turf

Since retiring from football, he's been a successful real estate wheeler-dealer. For a while he was in business with his younger brother, Benjie.

Heath's wife, Nikol, does not campaign with him much. "She does her thing," he says, "I do this." She stays at home with their son, Navy Heath, 5, and daughter, Island Nikol, 2. He named his son out of a road atlas and his daughter from the back of an Island Transportation truck.

He says he has never met Charles Taylor. He did see him once in a parade, though.

"I look at myself as an old-style, Southern-style Democrat," Shuler says. He is an avid hunter. He would have voted for the 700-mile anti-immigration fence. He's for stem cell research -- if the cells are taken from attempts at in vitro fertilization.

Religion is important to Shuler. He doesn't campaign on Sundays. He says, "If it weren't for my belief in Jesus Christ, I wouldn't be what I am today."

Roots in the Mountains

What he is is a homegrown boy who done good.

On a wind-chilled night beneath a half moon, the Asheville High School Cougars are hosting the No. 1 team in the state, the undefeated Panthers of Franklin High School. Hundreds and hundreds of people turn out. Shuler is standing on the Franklin side. He knows a lot of the fans; they know him. After all, he led the Swain County High School Maroon Devils to three state championships in 1988, 1989 and 1990. He was a standout quarterback at the University of Tennessee and runner-up for the Heisman Trophy in 1993. He played three seasons for the Redskins, then was traded to New Orleans, then Oakland.

He's wearing Levis and a crisp blue shirt. He shakes hands, gives out hugs. Kids wander up. He's a fine role model -- doesn't smoke or drink alcohol or caffeine. About the worst thing he does in public is use an awful lot of lip balm.

He loves talking football, even when talking about other things. Rep. Rahm Emanuel, chairman of the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee, who persuaded Shuler to run, is the "best recruiter" he's ever known. "Lou Holtz has got nothing on him," he says.

"The best coach I ever had," he says, "is standing right over there."

Boyce Deitz, in a light-colored windbreaker and purple cap, spits a little tobacco onto the grass. Deitz, 57, was the coach at Swain for 20 years. Tonight he watches Asheville beat Franklin, 14-7. Upsets do happen.

When Shuler was deciding whether to run, he went to his favorite meditation spot -- a scenic overlook on Fontana Road, high above Bryson City -- and prayed for guidance. He spoke to his family and he went to see Deitz. "I told him that I had a lot of respect for him, taking on such a task. It's daunting," Deitz says. "And a hard thing on him and his family."