As I watched the election results roll in across Mississippi this past election cycle, I found myself reflecting on just how much things have changed.
Today, we have magic boards, interactive maps, sophisticated statistics, charts, graphs, and political analysts breaking down every possible scenario.
And while I love all of it, I couldn’t help but think back to some of my favorite election-night memories, sitting beside the great Wayne Tisdale.
Wayne was an absolute wizard with an Excel spreadsheet.
Give that man a few election returns, a handful of numbers, and his trusty spreadsheet, and he could predict just about anything. I’d sit there watching him plug numbers into those little cells, completely fascinated by how he could look at the data and somehow know where things were headed long before the rest of us did.
No magic board. No fancy graphics. Just Wayne, his spreadsheet, and an incredible understanding of Mississippi politics.
Looking back, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly where my love of statistics and the numbers behind political campaigns began.
I learned that election night wasn’t just about watching who was ahead or behind. It was about understanding the numbers, recognizing patterns, knowing the counties, and figuring out what those returns were really telling you.
And nobody made that more fascinating to me than Wayne.
I truly miss the simplicity of those times. And I sure do miss sitting next to that wizard and his Excel spreadsheet.
Twenty Years, Countless Memories
For a little over 20 years, I’ve worked in political advertising and on political campaigns. And the funny thing is, I never set out to get into politics.
Ted and Reed introduced me to that world. Not necessarily by choice, but because it was part of my job. Little did I know how much those experiences would shape my career, the relationships I would build, or the way I see people today.
Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of working with some truly remarkable people. People who believed deeply in what they were doing, who put themselves and their families in the public eye, and who were willing to work incredibly hard for something they believed in.
Some of those people became much more than clients. They became mentors, trusted colleagues, and lifelong friends.
And that’s the part of political advertising most people never see.
They see the commercials, the signs, the debates, the headlines, and the election results. What they don’t see are the long nights, the strategy sessions, the nervous anticipation as polls close, or the friendships that develop when you’re working shoulder to shoulder toward a common goal.
For a long time, I absolutely loved that part of the business.
When It Became Too Personal
But somewhere along the way, I realized I was becoming too emotionally invested.
When a candidate I worked with lost, I didn’t just see it as a campaign that hadn’t gone our way. I took it personally.
I knew these people. I knew their families. I knew how much of themselves they had poured into the process. And when things didn’t turn out the way we’d hoped, it was heartbreaking.
I carried those losses with me long after election night.
When I purchased The Prime Time Agency in 2019, I made a conscious decision to separate myself from the political side of the business.
It wasn’t because I stopped caring about politics or the people involved.
Quite the opposite.
I think I cared too much.
And honestly, I had also become increasingly discouraged by what political conversations had become, particularly on social media.
People who would otherwise be kind, thoughtful, and respectful toward one another suddenly seemed comfortable saying some pretty terrible things simply because someone had a different political opinion.
I watched friendships become strained, personal attacks replace meaningful conversations, and the humanity of the person on the other side of the argument get lost somewhere along the way.
And frankly, it turned me off.
I didn’t want to be consumed by that side of politics anymore.
So, I stepped away.
Funny How Things Come Full Circle
Then, somewhat unexpectedly, politics found its way back to my doorstep during this latest election cycle.
It started with a simple message submitted through The Prime Time Agency’s website.
No grand plan to return to political campaigns. No intentions of getting involved in strategy. And certainly no desire to become emotionally invested all over again.
It was simply an opportunity that came along by chance.
And this time, my role was entirely different.
We were brought in strictly to handle media placement.
I wasn’t involved in developing the messaging, producing the commercials, or making decisions about which spots would ultimately run. In fact, I didn’t even know which commercials would be selected.
My responsibility was to place the media. That’s it.
After years of being so deeply involved in political campaigns, it was an interesting experience to participate from a completely different perspective.
And if I’m being completely transparent, I rather enjoyed being able to do my job without carrying the emotional weight of an entire campaign on my shoulders.
But as election night unfolded, there I was again, watching the numbers.
County by county. Percentage by percentage. Trying to figure out what was still outstanding, where the votes might come from, and what the numbers were telling us.
I guess some habits never really go away.
And somewhere in the middle of all those charts, maps, and election returns, I found myself wishing I could sit next to Wayne and his Excel spreadsheet just one more time.
What Really Matters
After more than two decades in political advertising, I’ve learned a few things.
I’ve learned that politics can be incredibly rewarding and incredibly heartbreaking, sometimes all in the same night.
I’ve learned that behind every candidate is a person, a family, and a group of people who have invested an enormous amount of time, energy, and emotion into something they believe in.
And I’ve learned that a political disagreement doesn’t have to become a personal one.
We can care deeply about issues without losing our respect for one another.
We can support different candidates and still be friends.
And we can celebrate a victory without forgetting that someone else is experiencing a very real disappointment.
When I think about my years in political advertising, the things that stand out most aren’t the commercials we produced, the campaigns we managed, or even the elections we won.
It’s the people.
The remarkable individuals I had the opportunity to work alongside. The mentors who taught me things I still carry with me today. The friendships that have lasted long after the campaigns ended.
And, of course, the election nights spent watching a wizard make predictions with nothing more than an Excel spreadsheet.
Because when the signs come down, the commercials stop running, and the votes are counted, those relationships and memories are what remain.
But I will say this: while I may have stepped away from the political side of the business, I’ll gladly add another W to my list.
Some things never change.
Kerry Stoddard