Jean Edward Smith

by FDR

  From that moment on, “Happy Days” would forever be identified with Franklin Roosevelt and the New Deal. Written by Jack Yellen and Milton Ager for the 1929 Hollywood musical Chasing Rainbows, it captured the robust optimism that Roosevelt exuded. As delegates sang and danced, James Roosevelt, FDR’s oldest son, grabbed the New York standard and joined the parade, “charging down the aisles like a sophomore storming the goal posts of a rival college after his team had won,” said Raymond Daniell in The New York Times.93

  Garner was nominated by Senator Tom Connally, and the organist belted out “The Eyes of Texas” and “California, Here I Come” as the Texas and California delegations trooped the hall. Then Al Smith, “The Sidewalks of New York,” and another emotional demonstration as the convention paid homage to its former standard-bearer. “The Smith demonstration was the realest thing in the convention,” wrote Kansas City editor William Allen White.94

  After Smith was nominated, the convention took a three-hour dinner break. On his way back to the convention after the recess, Farley paid a goodwill visit to Garner headquarters and spoke with Sam Rayburn, the Speaker’s manager in Chicago. It was not the first time they had talked. Farley had dangled the vice presidency before, and now made the offer. “This is the time,” he told Rayburn. “I know positively that we can bring about his [Garner’s] nomination.”

  Rayburn asked Farley what would be necessary.

  “Have the Texas delegation record its vote for Garner on the first ballot, and then before the result is announced switch to Roosevelt.”

  Rayburn declined. “We’ve got a lot of people up here from Texas who’ve never been to a convention before, and they’ve got to vote for Garner a few times. How many ballots can you hold your lines without breaking?”

  “Three ballots,” said Farley. “Four, maybe five.”

  “Well,” Rayburn replied, “we must let the convention go on for a while, even if we are interested in the Vice-Presidency, and I’m not saying that we are.”95

  When the convention resumed, six favorite sons were placed in nomination, concluding at 3 A.M. with Alfalfa Bill Murray and a fourteen-minute demonstration led by the Girls Kiltie Band of Ardmore, Oklahoma. Seconding speeches followed, the anti-Roosevelt forces stretching the festivities out as long as possible. For Farley, whose majority gave him the whip hand, the question was whether to adjourn or go directly to the balloting. He placed a call to Albany. “Go to it, Jim,” FDR replied.

  “The sound of his strong, reassuring voice was like a tonic for jangled nerves,” Farley recalled.96 At 4:28 A.M. the convention clerk stepped to the microphone and began to call the roll. At this point, both sides welcomed the showdown. Smith believed that Roosevelt’s support was skin deep and that after the first ballot his delegates would bolt. Farley thought FDR would win on the first ballot as state delegations, recognizing how close Roosevelt was, would jump on the bandwagon.

  Roosevelt listened to the balloting from his sitting room in Albany. “We presented a strange picture,” Sam Rosenman remembered. Eleanor and Sara were there.* Young Elliott, his ear next to the radio, was sound asleep. Missy and Grace Tully were also asleep. Mrs. Rosenman was sitting on the floor dozing. But FDR was wide awake. From time to time he would look at the acceptance speech he and Rosenman were working on but could not concentrate. Rosenman left the room at one point to try drafting the peroration. “When I handed him the scrap of paper on which the few paragraphs had been written he said he thought they were all right.” Neither considered the words especially memorable.97

  The first ballot went quickly enough. Roosevelt’s support held firm, and the opposition remained scattered. The final tally showed FDR with 666 votes—more than three times as many as his nearest rival but 104 short of victory. Smith ran second with 201, Garner third with 90, followed by the six favorite sons, who split the remainder. The count was almost exactly what Farley had anticipated. What he did not anticipate was that no delegation switched before the result was announced. “I sat there fully expecting that some state would switch and announce its support for the majority candidate. But nothing happened. I was bitterly disappointed.”98

  The second ballot began at 5:17 A.M. and was not completed until 8:05—the longest ballot on record at any Democratic convention as various state delegations asked to be polled individually. Roosevelt’s total crept up to 677, Smith’s fell back to 194, but still there was no break. Arthur Mullen, Farley’s deputy on the floor, moved adjournment. But the opposition sensed that FDR had peaked and pressed for a third ballot. A voice vote on the motion to adjourn was inconclusive. Walsh told Mullen that if he put the motion to a roll call, it would likely lose and the momentum would shift against Roosevelt.99 Mullen withdrew the motion, and the convention settled in for the third ballot.

  “Watch this one closely,” Farley told New Hampshire’s Robert Jackson. “It will show whether I can ever go back to New York or not.”100

  For FDR, the third ballot was crucial. Farley had told Rayburn that the Roosevelt lines would hold for three ballots, but there was no way of knowing. Any decline would be fatal. Already the delegations from Iowa and Minnesota were restive, and the shift of a few votes under the unit rule could cost Roosevelt those states. The greatest worry was the South, especially Mississippi, where the conservative establishment, led by Governor Sennet Conner, much preferred Newton D. Baker to FDR. Senator Pat Harrison, an old blue blood himself, was holding the Magnolia State for Roosevelt by the slender margin of 10½ to 9½. If Mississippi defected, there was no question that Arkansas would follow.

  “We got in touch with Huey Long,” said Ed Flynn. “We put the entire responsibility on Long to see to it that there was no break in these two tottering states.”101 Long stormed into the midst of the Mississippi delegation. He threatened. He cajoled. He bullied. He shook his fist in Governor Conner’s face: “If you break the unit rule, you sonofabitch, I’ll go into Mississippi and break you.”102 There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the Kingfish not only could but would do so.* Mississippi and Arkansas held fast on the third ballot, Roosevelt picked up five more votes, Garner gained eleven, and Smith dropped four. At 9:15 on Friday morning the convention adjourned until evening. “There is no question in my mind,” Flynn wrote afterward, “but that without Long’s work Roosevelt might not have been nominated.”103

  The convention was on the verge of deadlock. Roosevelt’s ranks were holding, Smith was in until the bitter end, and the favorite sons believed they were sitting pretty. The key to breaking the stalemate lay in the ninety votes pledged to Garner. The principal players were now Sam Rayburn and the powerful chairman of the California delegation, William Gibbs McAdoo.

  At Farley’s request, Pat Harrison tracked Rayburn down and arranged a meeting in Harrison’s suite. Harrison and Rayburn were friends of long standing in Washington.

  “What shall we offer them?” asked Farley.

  “Anything they want,” Harrison replied.104

  Rayburn brought Silliman Evans, the manager of Garner’s headquarters, with him to the meeting. “Without wasting much time shadow boxing, we got down to business,” Farley recalled. “Once again I stated my opinion we could swing the vice-presidential nomination for Speaker Garner if Texas threw in their lot in with us.” Pat Harrison urged Rayburn to accept. “Neither Sam nor Silliman needed much convincing,” said Farley. The conference lasted only a few moments.

  “We’ll see what can be done,” said Rayburn as he stood to leave. No explicit commitment was made, but Farley and Harrison both recognized that a deal had been struck. “I was elated,” Farley wrote. “There wasn’t a doubt in the world that they intended to release their delegates and swing the convention for Governor Roosevelt.”105

  At the same time Farley was meeting with Rayburn, Cordell Hull and Daniel Roper of South Carolina were calling on McAdoo, another old friend. “We felt that if we could win California’s support for Roosevelt the victory would be gained,” said Hull.106 Roper, who had bee
n commissioner of internal revenue when McAdoo was secretary of the Treasury, asked the Californian whether he would be interested in returning to Washington as secretary of state? Roper was freelancing and had no authority from Farley or anyone else to make such an offer. Fortunately, McAdoo was not interested. No, he told his guests, he did not wish anything for himself. But he was not averse to switching horses. The last thing McAdoo wanted was another deadlocked convention. If Roosevelt would name Garner as his running mate and give McAdoo veto power over who was to be secretary of state and secretary of the Treasury, he would shift California’s vote behind FDR on the fourth ballot. He did not wish to suggest anyone for those places, said McAdoo, but he did want to ensure that they were filled with progressives.107

  McAdoo insisted that Roper put the terms directly to FDR in Albany. “I’ll do this only upon certain assurances that he [Roosevelt] must give through you and no one else.” Roper reported back to Howe, who placed the call to FDR. “I took the telephone and explained the conditions,” said Roper. “Governor Roosevelt gave me the required assurances over the telephone.”108

  At 3 P.M. Chicago time Garner called Rayburn from Washington and made it official. “Sam,” he said, “I think it is time to break this thing up. Roosevelt is the choice of the Convention. He has had a majority on three ballots. We don’t want to be responsible for wrecking the party’s chances. The nomination ought to be made on the next roll call.”109

  Both Rayburn and McAdoo ran into considerable roughhouse when they caucused their delegations. Diehards in the Texas delegation wanted to continue the fight. Rayburn eventually forced a vote and carried the motion to support Roosevelt 54–51, leaving some important Texas noses out of joint. McAdoo found even tougher going when he called the California delegation together. He too eventually prevailed, but never put the question to a vote.110 McAdoo graciously suggested to Rayburn that when the roll was called, California yield to Texas and allow the Lone Star State to lead the switch. Rayburn said that would cause even more hard feelings in his delegation and told McAdoo to announce the decision.111

  Unaware of these developments, the Stop Roosevelt forces looked to the balloting with increasing confidence. Mississippi seemed to have crumbled despite Huey Long’s efforts, and there were rumors of defection in North Carolina and Iowa. There was increasing talk of Baker, the compromise candidate waiting in the wings. Some of Roosevelt’s closest associates had not been told of Garner’s switch. Rexford Tugwell and Harry Hopkins, who shared a cab to the stadium, looked as if they were going to a funeral.112

  Shortly after eight o’clock Friday evening, July 1, 1932, the clerk began to call the roll for the fourth ballot. “Alabama, 24 votes for Roosevelt.” Arizona, Arkansas, the ranks were holding. Then California. McAdoo asked Chairman Tom Walsh for permission to explain the California vote. An eerie silence settled over Chicago Stadium as McAdoo made his way to the platform. “California came here to nominate a President of the United States,” he said. “She did not come here to deadlock this Convention.” Roosevelt delegates went wild. The organ struck up “Happy Days Are Here Again” followed by “California, Here I Come.” The Texas standard joined the parade. When order was eventually restored, McAdoo resumed: “The great state of Texas and the great state of California [sustained cheering] are acting in accordance with what we believe is best for America and best for the Democratic party. California casts its forty-four votes for Franklin D. Roosevelt.”113

  Listening to the radio in Albany, FDR leaned back and grinned: “Good old McAdoo!” By announcing that Texas would also be making the switch, McAdoo had broken the deadlock. The bandwagon rush began. When Illinois was called, Mayor Cermak announced the combined strength of Illinois and Indiana—eighty-eight votes—“for the next President of the United States, Franklin D. Roosevelt.” Governor Ritchie personally announced Maryland’s switch to FDR. Missouri, Ohio, and Oklahoma came on board. As the alphabet neared the end, Governor Byrd came to the podium to announce Virginia’s switch.

  At 10:32 P.M., Walsh announced the final tally: 945 votes for Roosevelt, 190 for Smith, who refused to concede. “Franklin D. Roosevelt having received more than two-thirds of all the delegates voting, I proclaim him the nominee of this Convention.”114

  Walsh’s next announcement stunned the stadium. It was a telegram from Roosevelt saying he wished to fly to Chicago the next day to accept the nomination.115 When the cheering subsided, the organist sent the delegates back to their hotels to the tune of “Onward Christian Soldiers”—a tune not heard at Democratic conventions since the heyday of William Jennings Bryan.

  “Mr. Roosevelt enters the campaign with a burden on each shoulder,” H. L. Mencken wrote in the Baltimore Evening Sun. “The first is the burden of his own limitations. He is one of the most charming of men, but like many another very charming man he leaves on the beholder the impression that he is also somewhat shallow and futile. The burden on his other shoulder is even heavier. It is the burden of party disharmony.” Mencken said Chicago bookies were offering 5-to-1 odds that Governor Ritchie, if nominated, would beat Hoover. When FDR got the nomination, they offered 5 to 1 that Hoover would win.116

  Roosevelt’s decision to fly to Chicago electrified the nation.117 Tradition held that the Democratic and Republican nominees be formally notified in their hometowns by a delegation of party notables a month or so after the convention. By smashing precedent and going to Chicago, Roosevelt was demonstrating a spirit of urgency that a dispirited country could embrace. He was also demonstrating remarkable physical courage and stamina. In 1932, air travel was still considered hazardous. Knute Rockne, the nation’s most celebrated football coach, had recently died in a plane crash. Navigation aids were rudimentary, planes were primitively underpowered, and pilots had little to fall back on if they encountered heavy weather. In statistical terms, people flying in 1932 were two hundred times more likely to be killed than passengers forty years later.118

  American Airlines had but one flight a day out of Albany, and it went to Cleveland. To accommodate Roosevelt, the airline pulled a Ford 5-AT Tri-Motor plane from the Dallas to Los Angeles run.* As an American spokesman said, “People were afraid to fly. To get a governor on a plane might help spread a little confidence. That’s why we were willing to go to so much trouble.”119

  Roosevelt’s party, an unlucky thirteen, included Eleanor, sons Elliott and John, Missy LeHand, Grace Tully, Earl Miller, Gus Gennerich, and Sam Rosenman, plus pilots and crew. “There were storms all around us,” said one of the pilots. “Flying up against the prevailing winds at that low altitude was rough, and that Ford was like a balloon.” The pilots prepared for an emergency landing in Rochester, but the weather broke slightly and they pressed on, refueling in Buffalo and Cleveland. At 4:30 the little plane landed at Chicago’s Municipal Airport, eight hours on the button after its departure from Albany. In the interim, John Garner had been nominated by acclamation for vice president, Farley bringing the Roosevelt delegations into line without a murmur.

  Shortly after 6 P.M. Chairman Walsh introduced Roosevelt amidst a thunderous ovation. FDR was wearing a blue suit with a rose in his lapel, his eyes shining, his head thrown back, as the organist broke into another spirited rendering of “Happy Days Are Here Again.” The crowd of 30,000 was on its feet as Roosevelt began. “I regret that I am late, but I have no control over the winds of heaven and could only be thankful for my Navy training. The appearance before a national convention of its nominee for President before being formally notified of his selection is unprecedented, but these are unprecedented times.” The audience roared its approval.

  With the nation listening—many in the audience were hearing Roosevelt for the first time—he rolled out the sentences in that confident, cultured voice so familiar to radio audiences in New York: “I have started out on the tasks that lie ahead by breaking the absurd tradition that the candidate should remain in professed ignorance of what has happened until he is formally notified many weeks later. L
et it be from now on the task of our party to break foolish traditions and leave it to the Republican leadership, far more skilled in that art, to break promises.”

  Roosevelt served notice on the economic conservatives in the party who wanted to stand pat: “I warn those nominal Democrats who squint at the future with their faces turned to the past, and who feel no responsibility to the demands of the new time, that they are out of step with their Party.” (Raucous cheers and applause.) “Ours must be a party of liberal thought, of planned action, of enlightened international outlook, and the greatest good to the greatest number of our citizens.”

  He reached out to progressives across the political spectrum: “Here and now I invite those nominal Republicans who find that their conscience cannot be squared with the groping and failure of their party leaders to join hands with us.” FDR promised aggressive government action to tackle the root causes of the Depression and provide effective distress relief. He recited a litany of programs long overdue: securities regulation, public works, tariff reduction, wages and hours legislation, home mortgage guarantees, farm relief, and the repeal of Prohibition.

  To those listening, both at home and in Chicago Stadium, Roosevelt’s voice appeared to gain resonance as he approached his conclusion: “On the farms, in the large metropolitan areas, in the smaller cities and in the villages, millions of our citizens cherish the hope that their old standards of living and thought have not gone forever. Those millions cannot and shall not hope in vain.”

  And then that remarkable close: “I pledge you, I pledge myself, to a New Deal for the American people.”120

  * When Roosevelt spoke, only 300,000 New Yorkers paid state income tax and the graduated rate reached a maximum of 2.33 percent for incomes above $100,000 (in current dollars, that would be an income of $1.2 million). For a single person earning $5,000 in 1931, the increase FDR requested would amount to $12.50. For a head of family with two dependents, the increase would be $1. New York State Tax Commission figures, cited in 1931 Public Papers of Governor Franklin D. Roosevelt 178–179 (Albany, N.Y.: J. B. Lyon, 1937).