Mitt lived the all-American suburban family experience of the 1950s, with an important exception. The Romneys were one of the LDS faith's leading families. In fact, the clan's journey from the fringes to the mainstream symbolized the transformation of the church itself. For nearly a century, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the most vilified religion in America, its dusty, bearded adherents derided as polygamous outlaws. Born in a Mexican colony that his grandfather had co-founded to preserve polygamy, Mitt's father George was a product of an outsider status. But by the turn of the century, George's father, like the LDS Church itself, had broken with that past in exchange for acceptance.

George's father struggled to find his foothold in middle-class America, going broke several times, and George carried some of that baggage, laboring as a plasterer rather than earning a college degree. Still, George was determined to go far. He "married up," pairing off with his classy high school sweetheart, Lenore LaFount.

By the middle of the 20th century, the LDS Church had buried its pioneer past of beards and Mormon-centric businesses, pushing instead a clean-shaven embrace of the Chamber of Commerce and the American Dream. And George Romney, refined by his cultured wife, had finally arrived.

He briskly advanced in the business world, moving from salesman to lobbyist to executive, while taking on leadership roles with the church. In 1954, he became president and chairman of American Motors. It was a promotion loaded with peril, since the company was on the brink of bankruptcy.

At a time when Detroit was bent on turning out ever-bigger cars, George bet the future of American Motors on the compact, unflashy Rambler. He called it the antidote to the "gas-guzzling dinosaurs" coming from the Big Three automakers.

The gamble paid off handsomely, delivering record profits for American Motors and turning George Romney into a rich man and a national figure.

On his father's lap

By the time Mitt was 12 years old, he had seen his father's square-jawed face grace the cover of Time magazine. Despite his celebrity, George managed to make more time for Mitt than he had for his older children. "Dad was more settled by then," says Mitt's sister, Jane.

From birth, Mitt had enjoyed a starring role in the "family bulletins" George mailed out. When Mitt was not yet 2 and making his first visit to see Santa Claus, George wrote with pride, "he walked right up like a man and shook hands!" In the same letter, he noted that Mitt was "bold and inclined to be a bit reckless - loves to climb up on high chairs and say, 'Careful, careful, careful!'"

Throughout his childhood, Mitt logged lots of time sitting on his father's lap, watching him read the paper. As George flipped through the pages, the passing headlines prompted him to share with his son his insights about the wider world.