Monday, Jun. 26, 1944
Eleventh Hour
At his 300-acre farm at Pawling, New York's dapper Governor Tom Dewey last week took some time off. As a country squire he supervised the repair of a barn, directed construction of a new gravel road to his 200-year-old farmhouse, played an occasional game of One-o'-Cat with sons Tommy, 11, & Johnny, 8, went daily to the Pawling Country Club for 18 holes of golf. There was little State business; what there was, he disposed of quickly when State Troopers motored down from Albany with documents. He and his handsome wife Frances celebrated their 16th wedding anniversary with a small dinner for Pawling and Manhattan friends.
Tom Dewey did not act at all like a man seeking the office of President of the United States--and only ten days before the convention. He was cool and sure of himself, and seemingly wholly passive about the candidacy which everyone but himself had declared. He appeared determined to play his part as a noncandidate down to the very last. When the Associated Press published a report that he had made train reservations for Chicago, he said it was not true. He firmly denied that he was working on an acceptance speech. To GOPoliticos from all points of the compass who tried to get just the merest hint of a promise in return for their votes, Dewey turned a maddeningly bland smile.
Other candidates were not playing hide-&-seek. Ohio's John W. Bricker wound up a 3O-state, 20,000-mile campaign tour in which he had put himself on record more plainly than any other candidate. He talked off-the-record to Washington's 78 Club (freshman G.O.P. Congressmen). Friendly, forthright, he sent them off in a real glow of admiration.
Illinois' tousled Representative Everett M. Dirksen, who is really campaigning for second place, wound up his tour at Rockford, Ill. And Washington newsmen heard that Lieut. Commander Harold E. Stassen, talking to a friend under a palm tree in the South Pacific, had said he would not stop presentation of his name to the convention.
Last week it seemed likely that Tom Dewey would not get the nomination on the first ballot. The first ballot was set up tentatively as the "Governors' Ballot." On this ballot many a State delegation would pay homage to a locally elected leader of the people, and it would signify that the elected leaders had taken seriously their responsibility to choose the best man. If Tom Dewey showed dominance on this ballot, as was generally expected, he could win on Ballot No. 2; but if he did not win easily then, John Bricker would have his chance--and dark horses could hope for theirs.
Meanwhile the trek to Chicago was on. National Chairman Harrison Spangler took up quarters at the Stevens Hotel. Dewey managers streamed out of New York; California's keynoting Governor Earl Warren boarded a special car loaded with West Coast GOPoliticos. In Chicago's cavernous stadium, 25 blocks from the Loop, workmen tacked up flags and bunting, strung 600 miles of special wire, while the genial host, Chicago's Mayor Ed Kelly, set up an economical sign that would serve to welcome the Democrats too (see cut).
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