"Bread, Butter, Bacon, Beans"

(See front cover)

Last week Will Rogers, flying to his old home at Claremore, Okla. paused in Kansas City to talk politics. Who was his choice for the Democratic presidential nomination? Why, his good Texas friend. "Jack" Garner, Speaker of the House of Representatives. But what did he, as one famed Oklahoman, think of the prospects of that other famed Oklahoman and good Rogers friend, Governor William Henry Murray? Will Rogers grinned, ducked his head, replied: "I guess he ain't got much chance."

But a thousand other Oklahomans last week packed into Oklahoma City's Shrine Temple as delegates to the Democratic State convention. And they thought differently. With one unanimous whoop they acclaimed Governor Murray as their candidate for President, pledged him Oklahoma's 22 delegates to the Chicago Convention. Declared Governor Murray: "I stand in awe of the responsibility of the Presidency but I will undertake it. ... I am willing to shorten my life, perhaps lose it, in an effort to stem the powers now crushing the American people. . . . No man is fit to be President who hasn't worked for $1 a day and lived on it. ... I don't get puffed up with praise but if America is going to be saved from despotism, it's going to take a platform that will mean something."

Mopping his forehead and unbuttoning his vest Governor Murray then proceeded to give the State convention his platform which he would carry to Chicago and try to get the national Democracy to accept. It was, he said, "a new song--the song of the people," which would have to be backed by the people's dimes rather than large campaign donations.

Chief points in the Murray platform:

1) "less taxes, more trade and no trusts";

2) a banking system with State currency issued against cotton and wheat; 3) abolition of ad valorem taxes on homes and farms; 4) maximum income taxes on "excess salaries of corporation managers"; 5) impeachment for Federal judges who abuse the power of jurisdiction; 6) conscription of money as well as men in the next war; 7) full payment of the soldier bonus; 8) coinage of "enough gold and silver to meet normal demands"; 9) tariff reduction. Adopting this platform, delegates loudly declared that "the great battle of 1932 is America against Wall Street, special interests and predatory wealth." Governor Murray loosed a savage political attack upon President Hoover after which a quartet sang a new Murray campaign song entitled "Hoover Made a Soup Houn' Outa Me."* Already in wide circulation were "Murray-For-President" buttons and the Murray campaign slogan: "Bread, Butter, Bacon, Beans."

In North Dakota, George Murray, farmer, filed his brother's name in the State's preferential primary March 15 against Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Brother George announced that Brother Bill would come into North Dakota early in March to campaign.

To Iowa month ago Governor Murray went to address great gatherings of farmers, was cheered till the rafters rang. That this sentiment for him was not all noise was revealed this month by a presidential State-wide poll conducted by the Des Moines Register and Tribune. President Hoover got 14,778 out of 17,925 Republican straw votes. Out of 38,732 Democratic votes, Governor Murray led with 13,427; Governor Roosevelt followed with 13,401 and Alfred Emanuel Smith came third with 4,724.

To Toadsuck. About the country Governor Murray continued to stump, stirring rural multitudes with speech after speech.

Never was his rhetoric more abusive, his manner more forceful. Appealing to what he called the Mass Mind he poured out the vials of his political scorn on President Hoover and all G. O. Policies. Resounding popular demonstrations greeted him everywhere. Even in Washington the House Ways & Means Committee gave him its respectful attention while he flayed the present currency system. The citizens of Charlotte, N. C. shrieked with ignorant delight when he cracked an obsolete joke which the audience thought was an original Alfalfaism.* The South Carolina General Assembly listened in rapt attention while he outlined the economic and political dangers ahead.

But for sheer personal triumph none of these occasions compared with a demonstration last week when Governor Murray shot across the Red River bridge he had fought for last summer and led a motorcade of 300 cars back to his Texas birthplace. Along the 40-mi. route to Collinsville, Texas farmers turned out to cheer him in the rain. Col. William Easterwood came from Dallas to Collinsville to introduce him to a huge crowd as "our next President." About the streets "Murray-For-President" banners flapped in the drizzle. An Oklahoma band played "The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You." "We're All for Alfalfa Bill," said a scrawled note thrown out by the engineer of a Katy train speeding through Collinsville. Governor Murray was presented with a quilt on which had been embroidered his "Bread, Butter, Bacon, Beans" slogan. Unveiled was a 16-ft. monument in his honor, with a large photograph embedded under glass and inscribed: Born in Collinsville, 1870.*

Fiery Fury. Governor Murray spruced up for the occasion. His lean wrinkled face had been shaved. His mop of thick greying hair was carefully combed. He wore a clean white shirt and his blue suit was pressed. Those who went to Collinsville to see a rustic figure in mismatched clothes and red suspenders were disappointed. But there was no disappointment in the fiery fury of the Murray speech. He began, as usual, by harking back to his early days when he was "born in a cotton patch during a November snowstorm; rocked in the cradle of adversity; chastened by hardship and poverty." Then he quickly swung into his favorite economic theme--the wealth of the rich, the poverty of the poor. "The great middle class," he shouted, "is threatened with bankruptcy and extermination." He gave his audience the same platform of relief adopted in Oklahoma City.

Before going home, Governor Murray retired to a room in a bank where his favorite brand of mattress (a "Beauty Rest") was put on a cot for him. He lay down, drank two cups of steaming coffee and hot water, held an informal reception for old timers who had known him before he ran away from home.

Hunger. That runaway led to hard hungry years for a 12-year-old. Young Murray chopped wood, picked cotton, hired out as a farm hand, led a prodigal outdoor life. Deep within him was another kind of hunger--a hunger for learning which he has not fully satisfied to this day. He attended rural schools here and there, now and then, and finally got admitted to a freshwater college in Parker County, Texas, called Springtown Male & Female Institute. Here he discovered what to study, went back to his odd jobs, returned to the Institute later to take and pass 18 examinations in a row, emerge with a B. S. degree. Thereafter he taught school, did newspaper work, studied law at night. At 29 he crossed over to Indian Territory, began to practice among the Chickasaws.

Perhaps because of his Pocahontas ancestry, Governor Murray has always had a deep and abiding interest and affection for Indians. Settling at Tishomingo, he became the tribal attorney for the Chickasaws. He studied their treaties, laws and customs, collected nearly a thousand rare books on Indian lore;--another manifestation of his innate scholarliness. Today he is an authority on the history and habits of the Oklahoma Indian. For a wife he picked Mary Alice Hearrell, half-white, half-indian. Her uncle was Governor Douglas H. Johnston, Chief of Chickasaws. Today Governor Murray still calls her "squaw" and her name for him is "Big Chief." They have four sons and a daughter. "Now the Negroes, the Indians and the poor white trash of Oklahoma have a Governor," exclaimed "Alfalfa Bill" upon his election, and the 172,198 Negroes and 92,725 Indians of Oklahoma knew he meant it.

His marriage made Murray a member of the Chickasaw tribe and, through his wife, he came into possession of several thousand fertile acres of land on which he began farming. At this time he was tagged with his familiar nickname because of his persistent advocacy of alfalfa as the proper hay to plant in the short grass country of Oklahoma. Even today he cultivates the popular use of "Alfalfa Bill" rather than the less common "Cocklebur Bill" which his political enemies tried to fasten on him. As a farmer, Murray was successful and is supposed to have made several hundred thousand dollars from his Tishomingo land. Soon, however, he transferred his interest in Agriculture from practice to politics and has largely made his living in that way in recent years.

Bolivia Bubble. The possibilities of large-scale farming outside the U.S. were responsible for the biggest single failure in Governor Murray's career. Defeated in politics, he went exploring through South America, where he hit upon the idea of establishing a colony of U. S. husbandmen in Bolivia. From that Government he secured a concession to 75,000 acres in El Ghan Chaco. Back in Oklahoma, he sold his Tishomingo farm, paid his debts, mustered together about 40 colonists including his own entire family and in 1924 led the way to Bolivia. The land was poor. The natives were unfriendly. Nostalgia plagued all. Within a short time every colonist except Bill Murray and his half-Indian squaw had returned despondently to the U. S. They alone stuck it out for five wretched years, fighting insect pests, drought, shifty Bolivian officials. Finally in 1929 Bill returned to the U. S. practically penniless to complete the most remarkable political career in Oklahoma's history.

Come Back. As an office-seeker "Alfalfa Bill" needed no political introduction to Oklahoma voters. His picture was in most State history schoolbooks because he had presided at the Guthrie Convention in 1906 which wrote the Constitution admitting Oklahoma to the Union. In fact he claimed to have written most of that 45,000-word document. He had served as Speaker of the first State Legislature, only to be beaten for Governor in 1910. Elected in 1912 to the House of Representatives he was beaten in 1916 because he dared to predict that President Wilson, instead of "keeping us out of War" would put us in. In 1918 he made a second futile attempt at the Governorship, then retired to Tishomingo to bide his time.

In 1930 he and the times were in tune. When he announced his candidacy even his friends thought he was joking. When his enemies said he would be impeached. he declared he was also a candidate for impeachment. He started to campaign with $12 in his pocket. Leaving Mrs. Murray $1 for emergencies he travelled up and down Oklahoma haranguing the plain people to get behind him. He went up the creeks and through the swamps. He hitchhiked from town to town. Crowds turned out to hear his mastery of abuse and invective. He lived mostly on cheese and crackers. He was ridiculed and scorned but he beat a millionaire oil man in the Democratic primary and won the election by the largest majority in Oklahoma history. His whole campaign cost less than $500.

The Man Murray. One of Governor Murray's frequent boasts is that he has many friends, no intimates. This fact may explain in part why the man himself is such a bundle of contradictions. On the Oklahoma stump he dresses in the cheapest, sloppiest clothes, is careless in speech, indulges in vulgar mannerisms. But when he visited Washington last month and addressed an audience of cultured women he would have been almost unrecognizable to his Oklahoma friends. His diction was as correct as his clothes. His shoes were shined; a white handkerchief bobbed from his breast pocket; gone was the old sweat-stained felt hat. He won respect and admiration. Such is his showman's art.

Governor Murray is a bookish man. His library of some 5,000 volumes is a precious possession. His reading is deep, wide, mostly classical. Many a visitor leaves him with a sense of astonishment at his erudition, his ability to quote and date and cite. Constitutional government is his specialty. The late great Champ Clark, observing him in the House, called him one of the greatest constitutional experts and parliamentarians ever to sit in Congress.

About his food he is somewhat crotchety. His hard-boiled eggs must be started in cold water, cooked for 30 min. He must have plenty of fat pork as "an internal lubricant." He likes his vegetables underdone.* Only Mrs. Murray understands the proper preparation of what he calls his victuals. This diet, however, has kept him spry and supple. He can still stand on his head to amuse a rustic crowd. At his inauguration an old-fashioned ball was held at the Capitol and the Governor gave an animated performance of the "Kitchen Sweat," with the guests stomping and clapping.

About the luxurious Executive Mansion Governor Murray wears his hat all the time. He greets all women visitors as "Sister." He does nothing for fun, except to sprawl out on a bed or couch where he likes to give interviews. Mrs. Murray, a quiet dark woman, keeps much in the background, paints oil portraits of her Indian ancestors, has a social secretary, goes to a few bridge parties. She seldom accompanies her husband around the State or nation on his speaking trips. She did go to California with him last year and then her friends gave her a "bridal shower" at which she received her first silk nightgown. She has learned that her husband goes into profound abstractions when his mind is thinking out some problem, that he is never to be disturbed at such times. Many a time at 3 a. m. the figure of a tall, lank, stoop-shouldered man can be seen pacing the garden of the Executive Mansion, lost in a meditative world of his own making.

Appraisal. William Henry Murray leaves no man neutral. To his friends he is a second Andrew Jackson sent to lead the plain people out of economic bondage. To his foes he is another William Jennings Bryan threatening the very foundations of U. S. economic life. In the Murray makeup there is undoubtedly much of "Old Hickory," much of the "Great Commoner" but there is also enough more to make him a distinct political individual. Crude as Lincoln, he has the common touch; active as Roosevelt, he dramatizes public issues;* honest as Cleveland, he makes public office a public trust; and like every intelligent demagog, he may be accused of twisting his economic convictions to suit the accident of politics. He is the political darling of really poor men everywhere. He is scorned by the literate and urbane; yet he is probably better read than the average run of U. S. Presidents. Against him can be fairly set an erratic political behavior, a ferocious and unbridled tongue, an egotism barring administrative cooperation, and a tendency to play class against class.

Governor Murray believes he is a logical candidate for the Democratic nomination but that he has not much chance of getting it because his party is not always logical. He recently declared: "The Democratic party often has done the wrong thing at the right time." Most Democratic bosses hold that a Murray nomination at Chicago would be "the wrong thing at the right time." If the party is to go to the Southwest for a presidential nominee, it is argued, the strongest man in sight is John Nance Garner of Texas. Speaker Garner's boom has grown enormously in the past month. Texas' two Democratic Senators last week declared for him. So did Williams Gibbs McAdoo. But the grizzled little Texan so far has kept his sharp blue eyes fixed steadily on the House, not the White House.

"Hardly any competent person will say that Governor Murray has a chance to get the Democratic presidential nomination. Persons entirely competent, however, believe he will come to the convention with a surprisingly large number of delegates, that his personality and speeches will be in tune with the times and that he will be one of the most potent figures in the convention." So wrote Mark Sullivan, famed political observer and commentator. But the street car conductors of Oklahoma City who are not familiar with Pundit Sullivan and his views continue to announce: "State Capitol. End of the line. Folks, here's where the next President of the United States hangs out."

*The joke: "President Hoover is a great engineer. He has dammed, ditched and drained the country in three years." *Chorus: A soup houn' outa me, a soup Iwun' outa me We're going to beat the guy who made a soup houn' outa me We thought the proper thing would be an engineer to get We went to Palo Alto and on Herbert placed our bet The surgeons took Sir William's gland and old men made whoopee The Genius of them all has made a soup houn' outa me. *Menu for a Murray luncheon given by the Oklahoma delegation in the House: fat bacon, boiled pigs' feet, half-done cabbage, fried onions, fruit cocktail, coffee. *An example: martial law in Oklahoma to raise crude oil to $1 per bbl.

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