U.S. At War: How the Bosses Did It

Harry Truman, the grey little junior Senator from Missouri, was nominated for the Vice-Presidency twice. The second time was last week, by a majority of the 1,176 delegates to the 29th Democratic Convention. The first time was at a meeting in the White House, the week before.

Scene I: Washington. At that White House meeting were present the Democratic National Chairman, strapping Bob Hannegan, Chicago’s Boss and Mayor, Ed Kelly, and four others. The visitors had political business with the President; they wanted to name over the various Vice Presidential possibilities : Henry Wal lace, Truman, “Assistant President” Jimmy Byrnes, Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas, Senator Alben Barkley. The President indicated, in each case, that it would be a pleasure to run with the man named. It was said that tears came to Franklin Roosevelt’s eyes when Jimmy Byrnes was mentioned; everyone there knew that the 63-year-old South Carolinian had no chance, with his long record of filibustering against anti-lynching bills.

But everyone thought he detected a slightly firmer emphasis on the word “pleasure” as Harry Truman’s name was trotted out.

This piece of political finesse was satis factory all around; the President had not been forced to take an open stand for one of his henchmen and against the others ; and still the Party bosses had been given the “Go” signal on Truman.

Consequently, four days before the convention opened the race seemed wide-open, and the one-day booms blossomed in methodical order: for Barkley, Douglas, Byrnes and Speaker Sam Ray burn. The Byrnes boom got farthest first and then fell flattest. The first of many intimate and important dinners in Chicago ended Byrnes’s candidacy.

Scene II: the Blackstone. To Bob Hannegan’s three-room suite in the venerable old Blackstone Hotel, two nights before the convention, went P.A.C.’s Chair man Sidney Hillman and C.I.O. President Phil Murray. Also present: Postmaster General Frank Walker. Mincing no words, Messrs. Hillman & Murray told Bob Hannegan and Frank Walker that Jimmy Byrnes was not acceptable to P.A.C. Reasons: 1) he is a confirmed Southerner; 2) as OWMobilizer, he has held wages down. Hillman and Murray then went a good deal farther. No Southerner, they said, would get P.A.C. backing. Jimmy Byrnes gracefully withdrew. P.A.C.’s pow er blossomed fabulously.

The Truman boom was under way, managed carefully by Hannegan. Frank Walker, and Bosses Ed Kelly and Ed Flynn of New York. Harry Truman insisted that he did not want the job. For one thing, unlike all the other candidates in Chicago, he did not believe that the President really had chosen him. A story got around that he broke down in his hotel room and cried, telling friends that the Vice Presidential responsibilities were beyond him.

Scene III: the Sherman. The Wallace camp set to work in earnest. Their pre-convention count of solid, first-ballot votes had stood at 200. By Wednesday morning it rocketed to 350. All day long delegates streamed in & out of P.A.C.’s Sherman Hotel headquarters.

That afternoon, at a secret caucus, an emotional Phil Murray addressed P.A.C.’s delegates (from 28 states). In his low, Scottish burr, thrusting his fist forward. Phil Murray said: “Wallace . . . Wallace . . . Wallace. That’s it. Just keep pounding.”

P.A.C.’s first-ballot count for Wallace rose to 400, then to 450.

Scene IV: the Blackstone. The bosses too, had gone to work. His collar open, his shirt sweat-soaked, Bob Hannegan dickered all Wednesday afternoon in his Blackstone suite. Better than anyone else, he knew that a majority of the 1,176 delegates were both: 1) anti-Wallace, and 2) at sea, waiting for a signal from the lighthouse. Hannegan then let it be known that he had telephoned the President, and that the President wanted Truman. Ed Flynn passed along the same news to New York’s 96 delegates. So did Ed Kelly.

Kentucky’s massive, paunchy Alben Barkley was so outraged at this report (he, too, had been given a friendly Roosevelt back pat) that he called back all advance copies of his address nominating Franklin Roosevelt for Term IV, and threatened not to make the speech at all. Cried “Dear Alben”: “I certainly don’t know which shell the pea is under.”

Many delegates just would not believe the story of the Roosevelt-Hannegan phone call. The story was changed. Now the bosses said that Franklin Roosevelt had put his preference for Harry Truman in writing. But Bob Hannegan had no such letter to show. The Wallace camp screamed “phony.” Said Wallace’s secretary, beefy Harold R. Young (who had unpractically set up headquarters in Chicago with a single bottle of whiskey): “The convention is in the hands of our enemies.” Bob Hannegan finally produced such a letter but then: 1) it turned out to be dated only 24 hours earlier; and 2) Mr. Roosevelt also mentioned Justice Douglas as one with whom “I should be very glad to run.”

Scene V: John Touhy’s. The caucuses ground on. Ed Kelly herded Illinois’ 58 delegates out to Committeeman John Touhy’s famed 27th Ward Club (across from the Stadium), where food & drink was free. Ed Kelly tried to get his 58 Illinois delegates to pledge for Truman. The Wallace men balked. Ed Kelly smoothly switched to his own Senator, Scott Lucas, of Illinois. By now the strategy of both camps was clear. The bosses would nominate all possible favorite sons, confuse and wear down the delegates, then try to push through Truman, or a compromise. The Wallace camp was holding firm, determined to switch to no one.

Scene VI: The Stadium. Henry Wallace, battling for his political life, had the galleries with him. After his stiff-necked, forthright seconding speech for Franklin Roosevelt he got the most honest ovation of the convention, three minutes of real cheering. Later that same day, after the President’s voice had boomed, too loud, through the cluster of amplifiers, the name of Henry Wallace set the galleries afire. From every corner of the Stadium, packed with PACsters, came the chant: “We want Wallace!” At this point the Wallace nomination might have been roared through. Balding Chairman Sam Jackson, try as he might, could not stop the chanting and the noise. Finally, he called for adjournment. The entire Stadium rocked with a chorus of “No!” But Sam Jackson purred smoothly: “The ayes have it.”

Scene VII: Private Room H. By next day, everything was organized. All tickets to the Stadium were checked not once, by ushers, but twice, by Ed Kelly’s blue-shirted cops. Clusters of tieless war workers, carrying clusters of Wallace placards, were turned away. They just did not seem to have the right kind of tickets.

The bosses were very busy. Their work was done in the air-conditioned “Private Room H,” reached by a dark corridor underneath the speaker’s stand. In & out, all afternoon, went Hannegan, Kelly, Flynn, Walker, Hague & Co. Harry Truman stayed there for three hours, handshaking the delegates as the bosses brought them in. Inside, someone was always on the telephone, and whispered snatches of conversation floated to the door: “I think we got California in shape . . .” “Kelly said . . .” “At the New York caucus, they . . .” “Don’t worry too much about Alabama. . . .” One of the most impressive lines, used with small-town delegates, was the whisper: “I think they have the President on the wire. . . .”

Finally, Ed Kelly wrenched himself away long enough to mount the speakers’ platform. He solemnly placed in nomination the name of Illinois’ favorite son,

Scott Lucas. Everyone in the stadium knew what Kelly was doing, and he was booed so hard and so repeatedly that he could only finish by appealing to them as “chairman of the Illinois delegation, as Mayor of Chicago, and as host to the convention.”

Scene VIII: on the Floor. As the boos mounted, the band and organ played, and then, from the wings of the Stadium, poured an endless procession of Kelly workers, with Lucas signs: BUSINESS

WANTS LUCAS, LABOR WANTS LUCAS, EVERY SOLDIER, SAILOR AND MARINE WANTS LUCAS, EVERY FATHER AND MOTHER OF A SERVICEMAN WANTS LUCAS.

The galleries howled and booed as this phoniest of all parades proceeded; they watched silently as the Kellymen shuffled off in magnificent embarrassment.

It was now 4:30 o’clock, and the delegates’ stomachs were empty, their throats dry. The balloting began.

Ballot I. The first ballot turned out to be a trial run. Wallace led all the way, Truman relied heavily on the big delegations. Final result: Wallace, 429½; Truman, 319½. The 13 favorite sons, with 393½ votes, held the balance of power.

The convention had been in uninterrupted session for six and a half hours. At the outer gates, galleryites were beginning to arrive for the night session. Up to the microphone stepped Chairman Sam Jackson to pull the neatest parliamentary trick of the convention. He announced that Ballot II would be taken immediately, and that, since there was no recess, the convention was still in afternoon session and no tickets for the night meeting would be honored. Even at this late date the bosses were taking no chances on getting a Wallace gallery.

Ballot II. Ballot II was a thrilling battle until the break came. At the quarter-mark, Wallace led, 148 votes to Truman’s 125, with seven key states “passing” (waiting to see which way to jump). Then Ed Flynn brought in 74½ New York votes, and Truman went ahead for the first time. The score: Truman 246; Wallace 187. Then Favorite Son Bob Kerr, Governor of Oklahoma, withdrew his name: 22 more votes for Truman.

-At the halfway mark the count stood Truman, 342; Wallace, 286. But the Wallacemen were fighting; the count narrowed; suddenly it was neck-&-neck: Truman, 400; Wallace, 395.

With Truman holding a narrow lead, 477½-to-472½, the bosses could wait no longer. Alabama’s Bankhead withdrew his name, threw 22 votes to Truman. South Carolina switched all 18 votes to Truman. The galleries howled and screamed. Indiana’s huge Boss Frank McHale withdrew Paul McNutt’s name. Maine came over to Truman. “We want Wallace!” roared the galleries.

But the real rush had begun. State chairmen frantically waved their banners for recognition. The Wallace total shrank swiftly.

Scene IX: Back to Touhy’s. In the Illinois section, Ed Kelly suddenly snapped at Scott Lucas: “Christ Almighty, let’s get in this thing. We’re clean out.” Out rushed the whole Illinois delegation for a caucus at John Touhy’s. Wyoming switched to Truman. Aging, ex-Ambassador James Gerard got the microphone for New York, rasped out: “New York is now unanimous. . . . Make it 93 for Truman.” The Truman total: 558½, with 589 needed to nominate.

By now the fickle crowd was on its feet, cheering every Truman gain, as the last, faint chants of “We want Wallace” came from the upper tiers. Ohio added 23 to the Truman score. Then West Virginia, whose Governor Matt Neely had held firm for Wallace, broke down. It added 13 votes for Truman, enough to put him over.

Back from John Touhy’s, led by a flying wedge of cops, came Illinois. Breathing heavily, Ed Kelly grabbed the microphone, shouted out: “Illinois now 54 for Truman, four for Wallace.” He turned to a henchman: “Did we make it?” He had not. It was all over. Running fast for the Truman bandwagon, Ed Kelly had only managed to get his fingernails on the spare tire.

Suddenly, all the hundreds of Wallace placards had vanished. The three huge white Wallace balloons, which had hung over the convention all day, were let go; they floated swiftly to the dim rafters overhead, there to bump softly above the smoke, the lights, and the cheers.

Once again, the bosses had won.