“Nothing of real consequence,” said Edward. “There may be a protest candidate or two, but as the committee is fully behind you, the real fight should be with the Republicans.”
“Do we know who their candidate is likely to be?”
“Not yet. My spies tell me it’s between two men, Ray Buck, who seems to be the choice of the retiring member, and Stewart Lyle, who served on the City Council for the past eight years. They’ll both run a good campaign, but that’s not our immediate problem. With so little time left, we must concentrate on the Democratic primary.”
“How many people do you think will vote in the primary?” asked Florentyna.
“Can’t be certain. All we do know is that there are roughly a hundred and fifty thousand registered Democrats and that the turnout is usually between forty-five and fifty percent. So that would point to around seventy or eighty thousand.”
Edward unfolded a large map of Chicago and placed it in front of Florentyna.
“The boundaries of the constituency are marked in red and run from East Chicago Avenue in the south to the Evanston border in the north, from Ravenswood and Northwest Highway in the west to the lake in the east.”
“The district hasn’t changed since the days of Henry Osborne,” said Florentyna, “so it should all come back to me very quickly.”
“Let’s hope so, because our main task is to see that every Democrat in that area is aware of who you are through the press, advertising, television and public appearances. Whenever they open their newspaper, turn on the radio or watch TV Florentyna Kane must be with them. The voters must feel you are everywhere and they must believe your only interest is in them. In fact, there can be no major function in Chicago between now and March nineteenth at which you are not present.”
“Suits me,” said Florentyna. “I’ve already set up my campaign headquarters in the Chicago Baron, which my father had the foresight to build at the heart of the district. I propose to spend weekends here and any free days during the week at home with my family, so where do you want me to start?”
“I’ve called a press conference for next Monday, to be held at Democratic headquarters. A short speech followed by a question-and-answer session and then we’ll serve them coffee so you can meet all the key people individually. As you enjoy thinking fast on your feet, you should relish meeting the press.”
“Any particular advice?”
“No, just be yourself.”
“You may live to regret that.”
Edward’s judgment turned out to be right. After Florentyna had made a short opening statement the questions came thick and fast. Under his breath, Edward whispered the names of the various journalists as each rose to his feet.
The first was Mike Royko, of the Chicago Daily News.
“Why do you think it appropriate that a New York millionairess should run for the Ninth District of Illinois?”
“In this context,” said Florentyna, standing to take the questions, “I am not a New York millionairess. I was born in St. Luke’s General Hospital and brought up on Rigg Street. My father, who came to this country with nothing but the clothes he wore, founded the Baron Group right here in the Ninth District. I believe we must always fight to ensure that any immigrant arriving on our shores today, whether he be from Vietnam or Poland, has the opportunity to achieve the same goals as my father did.”
Edward pointed to another journalist for the next question.
“Do you consider it a disadvantage to be a woman when seeking public office?”
“Perhaps to a limited or ill-informed person I would have so answer yes, but not with any intelligent voter who puts the issues before outdated prejudices. Which of you if involved in a traffic accident on the way home today would think twice if the first doctor on the scene turned out to be a woman? I hope the issue of sex will soon be as irrelevant as that of religion. It seems a century ago that people asked John F. Kennedy if he thought the Presidency might change because he was a Roman Catholic. I notice nowadays the question never arises with Teddy Kennedy. Women are already playing leading roles in other nations. Golda Meir in Israel and Indira Gandhi in India are just two examples. I consider it sad that in a nation of two hundred and thirty million people, women number not one of the hundred senators and only sixteen out of the four hundred and thirty-four members of Congress.”
“What does your husband feel about you wearing the trousers in your family?” demanded an unsolicited questioner. Laughter broke out in certain parts of the room and Florentyna waited for complete silence.
“He’s far too intelligent and successful for such a pathetic question to occur to him.”
“What is your attitude on Watergate?”
“A sad episode in American political history which I hope will be behind us before too long but not forgotten.”
“Do you feel President Nixon should resign?”
“That’s a moral decision for the President to make himself.”
“Would you resign if you were President?”
“I wouldn’t have to break into any hotels. I already own one hundred and forty-three.” A burst of laughter followed by applause gave Florentyna a little more confidence.
“Do you think the President should be impeached?”
“That’s a question Congress will have to decide based on the evidence the Judiciary Committee is considering, including the White House tapes if President Nixon ever releases them. But no American can fail to have been moved by the resignation of the Attorney General, Elliot Richardson, a man whose integrity has never been in question.”
“Where do you stand on abortion?”
“I shall not fall into the trap that Senator Mason did only last week when asked the same question, to which he replied, ‘Gentlemen, that one’s below the belt.’” Florentyna waited for the laughter to die down before saying in a more serious tone. “I am a Roman Catholic by birth and upbringing, so I feel strongly about the protection of the unborn child. However, I also believe there are situations in which it is either necessary and indeed morally correct for a qualified doctor to carry out an abortion.”
“Can you give an example?”
“Rape would be an obvious one, and also in a case where the mother’s health is in danger.”
“Isn’t that against the teachings of your church?”
“That is correct, but I have always believed in the separation of church and state. Any person who runs for public office must be willing to take stands on certain issues that will not please all of the people all of the time. I think Edmund Burke summed it up better than I could hope to do when he said, ‘Your representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgment, and he betrays instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion.’”
Edward sensed the effect of the last statement and promptly rose from his chair. “Well, ladies and gentlemen of the press, I think the time has come to adjourn for coffee, which will give you an opportunity to meet Florentyna Kane personally—although I am sure by now you know why we feel she is the right person to represent the Ninth District in Congress.”
For the next hour, Florentyna faced a further barrage of personal and political questions, some of which, had they been put to her in the privacy of her own home, she would have found objectionable, but she was quickly learning that one cannot be a public figure and hope to maintain a private stance on anything. When the last journalist had left, she collapsed into a chair, not even having had the time to drink one cup of coffee.
“You were great,” said Janet Brown. “Didn’t you think so, Mr. Winchester?”
Edward smiled. “Good, not great, but I blame myself for not warning you about the difference between being chairman of a private company and running for public office.”
“What are you getting at?” asked Florentyna, surprised.
“Some of those journalists are very powerful and they talk to hundreds of thousands of people every day through their columns. They want to tell their readers that
they know you personally and once or twice you were just a little too aloof. And with the man from the Tribune you were just plain rude.”
“Was that the man who asked about who wore the trousers?”
“Yes.”
“What was I supposed to say?”
“Turn it into a joke.”
“It wasn’t funny, Edward, and it was he who was rude.”
“Possibly, but he’s not the one who’s running for public office and you are, so he can say what he likes. And don’t ever forget his column is read by more than five hundred thousand people in Chicago every day including most of your constituents.”
“So you want me to compromise myself?”
“No, I want you to get elected. When you’re in the House, you can prove to everyone that they were right in voting for you. But just now you’re an unknown commodity with a lot going against you. You’re a woman, you’re Polish and you’re a millionairess. That combination is going to arouse just about every form of prejudice or jealousy in most ordinary people. The way to counter those feelings is always to appear humorous, kind and interested in people who do not share the privileges you have.”
“Edward, it’s not me who should be running for public office, it’s you.”
Edward shook his head. “I know you’re the right person, Florentyna, but I realize now that it will take a little time for you to adjust to your new environment. Thank God you’ve always been a quick learner. By the way, I don’t disagree with the sentiments you voiced so vociferously, but as you seem to like quoting statesmen of the past, don’t forget Jefferson’s comment to Adams: ‘You can’t lose votes with a speech you didn’t make.’”
Again Edward turned out to be right: the press the next day gave Florentyna a mixed reception, and the Tribune reporter called her the worst sort of opportunistic carpetbagger he had ever had the misfortune to come across on the political trail—surely Chicago could find a local person? Otherwise he would have to recommend for the first time that his readers vote Republican. Florentyna was horrified and adjusted quickly to the fact that a journalist’s ego was sometimes more sensitive than a politician’s. She settled down to working several days a week in Chicago, meeting people, talking to the press, appearing on television, fund raising and then going over it all again whenever she saw Richard. Even Edward was beginning to feel confident that the tide was turning her way, when the first blow came.
“Ralph Brooks? Who on earth is Ralph Brooks?” asked Florentyna.
“A local lawyer, very bright and very ambitious. I’d always thought his sights were set on the State Attorney’s office en route to the federal bench, but it seems I’m wrong. I wonder who put him up to this?”
“Is he a serious candidate?” Florentyna asked.
“He certainly is. A local boy, educated at the University of Chicago before going on to Yale Law School.”
“Age?” asked Florentyna.
“Late thirties.”
“And of course he’s good-looking?”
“Very,” said Edward. “When he rises in court every woman on the jury wants him to win. I always avoid opposing him if I can.”
“Does this Olympian have any disadvantages?”
“Naturally. Any man who has been a lawyer in this city is bound to have made a few enemies and I know for certain Mayor Daley won’t be overjoyed about his entry into the race, since Ralph Brooks is an obvious rival for his son.”
“What am I expected to do about him?”
“Nothing,” said Edward. “When asked, you simply give the standard answer: say it’s democracy at work and may the best man—or woman—win.”
“He’s left himself with only five weeks before the primary.”
“Sometimes that’s a clever tactic; he’ll hope you’ve run out of steam. The one good thing to come out of this is that Mr. Brooks will have killed off any complacency among our workers. Everyone will now know they have a fight on their hands, which will be good training for when we face the Republicans.”
Florentyna was reassured that Edward still sounded confident, although he confided in Janet Brown later that it was going to be one hell of a fight. During the next few weeks Florentyna learned just how much of a fight. Everywhere she went, Ralph Brooks seemed to have been there just before her. Every time she made a press statement on a major issue, Brooks had given his opinion the night before. But as the day of the primary drew nearer, she learned to play Brooks at his own game, and beat him at it. However, just at the point when the opinion polls showed she was holding her lead, he played an ace that Florentyna hadn’t foreseen. She read the details on the front page of the Chicago Tribune.
“Brooks Challenges Kane to Debate” ran the headline. She knew that with all his court experience and practice at cross-examination he was bound to be a formidable opponent. Within minutes after the paper hit the streets, the phone in Florentyna’s headquarters was besieged with queries from the press. Would she accept the challenge? Was she avoiding Brooks? Didn’t the people of Chicago have the right to see both candidates debate the issues? Janet held them off while Florentyna held a hasty conference with Edward. It lasted for three minutes, during which Florentyna wrote out a statement for Janet to read to all inquirers.
“Florentyna Kane is delighted to accept the invitation to debate Ralph Brooks and looks forward to the encounter.”
During the week, Edward appointed a representative to consult with Brooks’s campaign manager in determining the time and place for the debate.
The Thursday before the primary was the date agreed to by both sides; the venue was to be the Bernard Horwich Jewish Community Center on West Touhy. Once the local CBS-TV affiliate had agreed to cover the debate, both candidates knew that the outcome of the election might well depend on the confrontation. Florentyna spent days preparing her speech and answering questions shot at her by Edward, Janet and Richard. It brought back memories of Miss Tredgold and their preparation for the Woolson Prize Scholarship.
On the night of the debate every seat in the Community Center was taken. People were standing at the back while others sat on windowsills. Richard had flown in from New York and he and Florentyna arrived a half-hour before the debate was to begin. She then went through the ordeal of television makeup while Richard found himself a seat in the front row.
She was greeted by warm applause as she entered the room and took her seat on the stage. Ralph Brooks arrived moments later to equally enthusiastic applause. He pushed back his hair rather self-consciously as he strode across the floor. No woman in the hall took her eyes from him, including Florentyna. The chairman of the Ninth District Democratic Congressional Committee welcomed them both before taking them to one side to remind them that they would each make an opening speech, which would be followed by a question-and-answer session, and then they would be invited to make a closing statement. They both nodded; the chairman had only repeated what had been agreed to by the two candidates’ representatives days before. He then took a new half-dollar from his pocket, and Florentyna stared at the head of John Kennedy. The chairman spun the coin and she called heads. Kennedy looked up at her again.
“I’ll speak second,” she said, not even hesitating.
Without another word, they walked back onto the stage. Florentyna took a seat on the right of Edward, and Ralph Brooks sat on his left. At eight o’clock, the moderator banged the gavel and called the meeting to order. “Mr. Brooks will address you first and then Mrs. Kane will speak.”
Ralph Brooks rose and Florentyna stared up at the tall, handsome man. She had to admit it: if a film director had been casting for the role of President, Ralph Brooks would be given the part. From the moment he started to speak, Florentyna was in no doubt that she would not have to travel beyond Chicago to face a more formidable rival. Brooks was relaxed and assured, his delivery was professional without sounding glib.
“Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Democrats,” he began. “I stand before you tonight, a local man who has made his way in l
ife right here in Chicago. My great-grandfather was born in this city and for four generations the Brooks family have practiced law from our offices on La Salle Street, always serving this community to the best of our ability. I offer myself today as your candidate for Congress in the belief that representatives of the people should always come from the grass roots of their community. I do not have the vast wealth that is at the disposal of my opponent, but I bring a dedication to and care for this district that I hope you will feel surpasses wealth.” There was an outburst of applause, but Florentyna could see several people who were not joining in. “On the issues of crime prevention, housing, public transportation and health, I have for several years sought to promote public good in the courts of Chicago. I now seek the opportunity to promote your interests in the United States House of Representatives.”
Florentyna listened intently to each well-delivered word and was not surprised when Brooks sat down to applause that was loud and sustained. The chairman rose to make Florentyna’s introduction. And when he finished, she stood up—and wanted to run out of the hall. Richard smiled up at her from the front row and she regained her confidence.
“My father came to America over fifty years ago,” she began, “having escaped first from the Germans and then from the Russians. After educating himself in New York he came to Chicago, where he founded the hotel group of which I have the privilege of being chairman, right here in the Ninth District of this city. A group that now employs twenty-seven thousand people in every state in America. When that career was at its zenith, my father left this country to fight the Germans again and he returned to America with a Bronze Star. I was born in this city and went to high school not a mile from this hall, a Chicago education that made it possible for me to go to college. Now I have returned home wanting to represent the people who made my American dream possible.”
Loud applause greeted Florentyna’s words, but she noticed once again that several people did not join in. “I hope I will not be prevented from holding office because I was born with wealth. If that were to be a disqualification, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Kennedy would never have held office. I hope I will not be prevented because my father was an immigrant. If that were the case, then one of the greatest mayors this community has ever known, Anton Cermak, would never have worked in City Hall, and if I am to be prevented because I am a woman, then half the population of America must be disqualified along with me.” This was greeted with loud applause from all parts of the hall. Florentyna drew a deep breath.
The Prodigal Daughter Page 29
