Narrator: A furious U.S. Senator storms into his campaign headquarters, his face a mask of rage. He has just been told that a new television ad, one he hasn't seen, is a disaster that could cost him his reelection. He finds the person responsible—his campaign manager—and unleashes his anger, questioning her judgment and loyalty. But the confrontation doesn't end with a firing. Instead, within minutes, the anger dissolves. The Senator, realizing he is speaking to the one person he trusts implicitly, apologizes, kisses her on the forehead, and walks away. The campaign manager was his sister.

This intense, intimate moment is just one of many that define the central relationship in Valerie Biden Owens's memoir, Growing Up Biden. The book reveals that to understand the political journey and personal character of President Joe Biden, one must first understand the unbreakable bond he shares with his sister, who was not just his best friend, but the architect and guardian of his career for nearly fifty years.

Narrator: The foundation of the Biden siblings' worldview was forged by their parents, Jean and Joseph Sr., who instilled a non-negotiable set of values. Their mother’s core tenet was simple and absolute: "Family is the beginning, the middle, and the end. Period." This wasn't just a saying; it was a code of conduct. It meant you showed up, you took care of each other, and you defended your own with fierce loyalty. This protective instinct was demonstrated powerfully when Valerie was just five years old.

Her first-grade teacher, a nun, insisted on calling her "Valeria" and consistently mispronounced her last name. A young Valerie was too intimidated to correct her. When she told her mother, Jean’s response was immediate. She marched her daughter back to the school, found the nun, and stated in no uncertain terms that her daughter’s name was Valerie Biden. She warned the nun that if she ever disrespected her daughter's name again, she would "knock that bonnet right off" her head. The lesson was seared into Valerie's memory: her dignity mattered, and she was never to tolerate disrespect from anyone. This principle—that every person deserves to be treated with dignity—became a cornerstone of the Biden family's personal and political identity.

Narrator: From the very beginning, Joe Biden's political career was a family enterprise, with Valerie as its chief strategist. When Joe, a 29-year-old lawyer, decided to make a long-shot run for the U.S. Senate in 1972, he turned to his 26-year-old sister, then a high school teacher, to be his campaign manager. They had no money, no connections, and no experience running a statewide race. The Democratic Party establishment viewed them as sacrificial lambs against a popular incumbent.

What they did have was family and a belief in grassroots politics. Valerie mobilized her high school students, who became the engine of the campaign. They knocked on doors, made signs, and distributed literature. The press mockingly dubbed their operation "the Children's Crusade," but the youthful energy was infectious. They campaigned in supermarket parking lots and at small-town festivals, focusing on personal connections. This unconventional, family-run campaign, built on sheer will and volunteer enthusiasm, resulted in one of the biggest upsets in American political history. Joe Biden won by just over 3,000 votes, becoming the youngest Senator ever elected. It was the start of a political partnership that would last a lifetime, with Valerie always behind the scenes, guiding, protecting, and ensuring the campaign stayed true to their core values.

Narrator: Just weeks after their stunning victory in 1972, the Biden family's world was shattered. On December 18, Joe's wife, Neilia, and their three young children were in a car accident while out Christmas shopping. The crash killed Neilia and their one-year-old daughter, Amy, and left their sons, Beau and Hunter, critically injured. Joe Biden, then in Washington D.C. staffing his new Senate office, received the devastating news over the phone.

In the depths of his grief, he was ready to give it all up. He declared that Delaware could get another Senator, but his boys could not get another father. He had no intention of being sworn in. It was the family that pulled him through. His brother Jimmy handled the immediate, horrific logistics at the hospital, while Valerie made a silent promise to Neilia that she would take care of her boys. She moved in with Joe, becoming a surrogate mother to Beau and Hunter, creating a bubble of love and normalcy amidst the wreckage of their lives. Joe was eventually persuaded to take his seat, and he was sworn into the U.S. Senate from his sons' hospital room. This unimaginable tragedy became the crucible that forged his deep, personal empathy for those who suffer, a quality that would come to define his political identity.

Narrator: The memoir makes it clear that for the Bidens, the political campaigns were always intertwined with profound personal battles. After Joe’s first presidential run in 1988 ended in failure, he was struck by a near-fatal health crisis. He collapsed after a speech and was diagnosed with two brain aneurysms, requiring life-threatening surgery. The family once again rallied, their lives put on hold as they waited through hours of uncertainty.

It was during Joe's recovery that Valerie's fierce, protective loyalty was put on raw display. Sitting in a diner one day, exhausted and worried, she overheard a man at a nearby table making cruel remarks, saying he wished Joe had died on the operating table. Without a second thought, Valerie walked over to his table. "I'm Joe Biden's sister," she said, and calmly poured her cup of coffee directly into his lap before walking out. The act, while impulsive, was a visceral expression of the private pain that political families endure and the unwavering protectiveness that bound the siblings together. It was a reminder that for every public battle, there was an unseen, personal campaign being waged just to hold the family together.

Narrator: Joe Biden’s 2020 presidential campaign is portrayed not as a singular event, but as the culmination of a lifetime of shared experiences, triumphs, and tragedies. The campaign was waged amidst a global pandemic and a deeply fractured nation, testing the family's resilience once more. For Valerie, this final campaign was the ultimate test of the values they had championed for decades: empathy, unity, and decency.

A moment late in the campaign captured the spiritual and emotional weight of their journey. On October 30, 2020, just four days before the election, Joe held a drive-in rally at the Iowa State Fairgrounds. As he delivered his final appeal, the press corps began pointing to the sky. An eagle was circling directly above him. For the Biden family, the eagle had become a symbol of their beloved Beau, who had passed away in 2015. Valerie saw its presence not as a coincidence, but as a sign—a visit from Beau, a blessing on their mission. It was a moment of profound personal meaning, reinforcing their belief that this long, arduous journey, marked by so much loss and love, was finally leading them to where they were meant to be.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Growing Up Biden is that the public figure of Joe Biden is inseparable from the private scaffolding of his family, with his sister Valerie serving as its chief architect and emotional anchor. Their bond, forged in childhood, tested by unimaginable tragedy, and solidified over five decades in the political arena, was the unwavering constant in a life of turmoil and triumph. It was a partnership built on a foundation of absolute trust, where a sister’s intuition was often valued more than a political consultant’s advice.

The book offers a powerful look behind the curtain of American politics, revealing that a leader's character is often shaped not on the debate stage, but in the quiet, unseen moments of personal crisis and family loyalty. It leaves us to consider the profound and often invisible influence of the people who stand beside our leaders, challenging us to remember that every public life is built upon a deeply personal story.