Andrea Horwath will tell you her background as a community organizer drove her into politics, but those who know her best say it was long talks with her autoworker dad that initially fostered an interest in holding public office.
Horwath, 48, the middle of four children, grew up listening to her late father Andrew Horwath talk about his relationship with his union at Ford and worry about labour negotiations and strikes.
Every year, the family would attend the union picnic, and the younger Horwath would read the newsletters sent to their home.
Her sister, Susanne Benvenuti, said she always thought of herself as closer to their father, whom she described as the kind of guy who "maybe missed one day of work ever for being sick."
But there was a special bond between him and Andrea because of their shared interest in social justice.
"She always understood him a little bit more in that sense, because he was passionate about unions and work," said Benvenuti, who is two years older than Horwath.
"She listened to everything he had to say, he was a good teacher and he really inspired her. I think he really got her going at that stage in her life."
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Horwath's political career began in 1997 at Hamilton city council, where she served three terms, after spending several years working with the Hamilton labour movement, with literacy programs and as an organizer of Hamilton's Days of Action campaign against cutbacks by Mike Harris's Tory government.
She decided to get into politics when, in the midst of municipal downloading, she and her colleagues decided they needed like-minded people on city council.
"I had developed some strength and respect in the community, and I was encouraged by my colleagues and my peers to take it on," Horwath said in interview, adding with a laugh: "I got the small straw."
During her time at city hall, she was a strong voice for the left, and earned a reputation as someone who could both hold her own but also had a knack for bringing people together to achieve results.
"She gained a lot of kudos from her colleagues in being able to take an issue, bring people around the table, discuss the issues and then present a solution that everyone could work with," said her friend Denise Doyle.
"She's a very solutions-oriented person and she listens."
Horwath turned down a chance to run provincially in 2003 after being approached by then-leader Howard Hampton because her father had been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer.
"It (would have been) a whole new ball game...and I knew that if I ended up winning it would take me too far away from my family at a time when I needed to be with my dad," said Horwath.
Andrew Horwath died in January of 2004.
Two months later Liberal Dominic Agostino, who held the riding of Hamilton East, also died. When that byelection was called, Horwath decided this time, she would get in the ring.
Her byelection win in 2004 restored the NDP to official party status, and Horwath won the leadership five years later amid excitement about her youth, energy and promises to rebuild the struggling party.
The party's base embraced Horwath, and the NDP received an additional boost this May when their federal cousins gained a record 103 seats in Parliament in the general election.
The recent death of federal leader Jack Layton could also translate into NDP support in Ontario.
Still, questions about the NDP's viability have persisted since the unpopular tenure in the early '90s of former premier Bob Rae, now the interim leader for the federal Liberals.
Horwath has worked to put forward a practical platform that appeals to all Ontario residents while still engaging its left-of-centre base, a difficult balancing act observers say may be her best bet to win more seats.
"She's made some good decisions to move the NDP toward the centre to differentiate it from the Rae government and to try to pick up middle ground, to pick off disenchanted voters from the Liberals," said Tracey Raney, a politics professor at Ryerson University.
Horwath's take on criticism and her sense of humour have also been a breath of fresh air to many, especially when it comes to some of her off-the-cuff remarks.
When criticized after her platform launch for putting out only a partial plan, Horwath barely paused before eliciting a roar from the crowd by responding: "Look, I'm a woman, I know you don't give it all up at once."
And for better or worse, that honesty is a true trait of the frank and outspoken Horwath, said her son Julian Leonetti.
"What you see is what you get -- she's the most genuine person I've ever met," said Leonetti, 18.
Doyle, who first met Horwath at a Take Back the Night march in the early '90s, said the two bonded over their commitment to social justice, but it was Horwath's sense of humour that cemented the friendship.
"She's very open and honest, and considers her own personal experience," said Doyle.
"People really want to talk to her because they feel they're really being listened to, and that's what she's like as a friend, she'll really take the time to be there."
Horwath, who describes herself as an everyday person who was given an enormous opportunity, grew up on a quiet street in Hamilton. Her house, however, was filled with cousins and other visitors who would often come to swim in the family's pool.
Her parents divorced when Horwath was in her teens, and while the children remained close to their mother, she moved out and it was Andrew Horwath who had a bigger hand in raising the family in their later years.
Horwath was smart, outgoing and impossible to beat at arguments even in her younger days, said Benvenuti, who shared a room with Horwath growing up.
The sisters didn't really become close until their 20s, when they would go out dancing together.
"We learned that if we went to the same places we could have the car more often, so we really worked that out," she said.
"But I could also always rely on her to talk about problems, and vice versa."
While Horwath is now busier than she's ever been, the close-knit family works hard to stay in touch, whether in person, or through emails and texts.
This summer, Horwath and her son spent a week at a cottage with family friends in anticipation of the rigorous campaign.
The two share a townhouse in Hamilton along with their dog, and Horwath describes Julian as one of her biggest supporters.
"Julian's had to grow up very fast, but he's a smart kid, and even before I got elected this kind of lifestyle was part of our family," said Horwath.
Of her split over a year ago with Ben Leonetti, Julian's dad and her common-law partner of 25 years, she only says "these kinds of things are never easy."
"It's not like a light switches off all of a sudden," she said the breakup with of Leonetti, a Hamilton businessman. "Twenty-five years was a long time, and there's a lot of history and a lot of memories. It's always going to be tough."
When she's not working, Horwath spends most of her time catching up with friends and family, whether it's meeting her sister for a glass of wine, having her mother over for a barbecue, having dinner with Julian or spending some time curled up on a couch reading newspapers.
She also loves to cook and is an excellent cheesecake maker, according to Benvenuti, who said Horwath at one point thought she might open a cheesecake store.
Over the next month, however, Horwath's attention will be on the campaign, as she tries to convince Ontario voters she can be trusted to run the province.
It's a task, she said, that initially filled her with "mortal fear."
"I'm still nervous, but it no longer has the paralysing trepidation that I had when I became the leader and thought: "Well, look what you've done now! Look what you're going to have to face in two years," she said with a laugh.
And while their dad, who campaigned for Horwath municipally, may not be around to see the progress she has made, Benvenuti said he always knew she'd end up somewhere big.
"He's just be beside himself," she said.
