Senator Granny of New Hampshire

New Hampshire – Forget the Bush twins and the Kerry girls. Put Teresa and Laura out of your mind. The most intriguing woman of this election season may well turn out to be Doris Haddock, the 94-year-old New Hampsherite better known as Granny D.

The nonagenarian became a neo-populist folk hero back in 1999, when she walked from Pasadena, California, to Washington, DC, to champion campaign-finance reform. Now she's running for U.S. Senate in the Granite State. Her mission: unseating popular Republican incumbent Judd Gregg.

Haddock, who was something of a press darling during her cross-country trek, has yet to reclaim the media spotlight. There have been no The Daily Show appearances, no chats with Dave or Conan – at least, not yet. But Haddock has the potential to serve as a sort of Democratic secret weapon. After all, she's a cute old lady who dispenses devastating takedowns of George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, and Donald Rumsfeld. And with the recent addition to her campaign of Joe Trippi – who presided over Howard Dean's improbable ascent last year and is aiding Haddock as a consultant on a pro bono basis – Haddock's chances of waging a meaningful battle on behalf of the Democratic Party have greatly improved.

But while the potential for a funky insurgency is undeniable – just think of all those disenfranchised Deaniacs at the University of New Hampshire who will be desperate for something to do this fall – the reality is that Haddock faces long odds. Gregg, a two-term incumbent, previously served as governor and enjoys broad support throughout the state. Democratic state senator Burt Cohen planned to challenge Gregg in this year's general election, but no one really gave him much of a chance, either. When Cohen exited the race after his campaign manager absconded with hundreds of thousands of dollars in campaign funds, it left a vacuum only Haddock was willing to fill. "It's like running against Ted Kennedy," says PoliticsNH.com's James Pindell of Haddock's challenge.

Then there's the delicate matter of Haddock's nine-plus decades – her pledge to serve only one term notwithstanding. Haddock is a charismatic woman who gives a mean stump speech. In her interactions with the public, she inspires protectiveness, reverence, and general delight. Politicians on both sides of the aisle are vulnerable to Haddock's charms as well; both Jimmy Carter and John McCain have lauded her as a Great American. But while Haddock is lucid and energetic, her age is impossible to ignore. Her skin, etched with a multitude of deep lines, resembles fine but very worn leather. When she speaks in public, her voice is strong, but in one-on-one conversation she is much quieter, pausing often to process questions or track down elusive words. When Haddock walks – and she plans to walk more than 200 miles between now and November to bring her message to the Granite State's voters – she does so with the trademark stoop of the very old, leaning toward the earth, breathing heavily from emphysema-afflicted lungs, and periodically clutching her aching back as she strides ahead. Yes, Haddock is spry. But she's 94 years old.

Given her age and her competition – as well as her seeming lack of enthusiasm for John Kerry (more on that later) – the true nature of Haddock's quest remains unclear. Is she a Democratic asset waiting to be tapped? An amusing novelty candidate, a la Fred Tuttle? Or, in a worst-case scenario, a worrisome liability in a very important election year? With Election Day less than three months away, no one – not even Haddock herself – seems entirely sure.

Haddock's campaign-kickoff speech last Thursday morning, which she delivered in the middle of Portsmouth's Market Square, felt like an outtake from an old black-and-white film. In her youth, before she became a wife, mother, and anti-hydrogen-bomb activist, Haddock studied public speaking at Emerson College, and her oratory is still marked by aspirated T's, dramatic cadences, and an upper-crusty, pseudo-British accent.