He greeted the family of Melanie Powell, a 13-year-old killed by a repeat drunk driver and memorialized by Melanie's Law, the tough drunken-driving bill signed by Romney. He met students attending state colleges under the John and Abigail Adams merit scholarships he created. And he hailed two families who should be able to afford medical insurance under the state's new health-care law.

Then the Romneys left Beacon Hill and returned home for a quiet evening, a chapter of their life closed. The opening words of the next chapter had already been written. An hour before Romney departed the State House, the Federal Election Commission docketed a four-page form establishing the Romney for President Exploratory Committee.

Now, as he crisscrosses the country, reflections of Romney's six decades shine through: his belief that anything is possible with the right organization and a willingness to outhustle and out-analyze the competition; his obsession with controlling his environment; and his ability to quickly grasp the essence of an issue.

And yet his emergence nationally has exposed him to some familiar critiques — that he's a self-salesman who inflates his accomplishments; that his buttoned-down slickness is off-putting to the average person; and that his political ambition burns so hot that it's reshaped his core.

Through it all, Romney portrays himself as essentially the same aw-shucks Midwestern kid for whom religion is a bedrock and family is paramount. As Mitt pursues the dream that eluded his father, George Romney is a spiritual presence on the campaign trail, an inspiration and also a cautionary tale.

Mitt speaks reverentially about his father but also points out what so many others see, that he's on his own.

"I'll make my own mistakes," Mitt Romney says. "He made his. I'll make mine."