The Smith Week

The Governor of New York, alert at Albany, spent three successive evenings beside his radio. It was a long time to wait for one announcement but he bore up cheerfully. The long sittings made historic a small, thickly upholstered sofa and a ponderous, brindled Great Dane named Jefferson, whom the Governor addressed now and then to ease his mind. Mrs. Emily Smith Warner (eldest daughter) and her husband were there, too. Also Walter Smith (youngest son), Mrs. Belle Moskowitz (chief publicist) and her husband; also secretaries, friends, newsgatherers. The Governor chewed long cigars, drank water frequently. His face was redder than usual. His hands moved constantly, though not fidgeting.

The first evening had the excitement of novelty. Governor Smith laughed when he heard Chairman Clem Shaver whacking for order with his gavel in Houston. "Maybe we had better lend the Chairman one of the pile-drivers on the new State office building," said Listener Smith.

To the history-laden diatribe of Keynoter Claude Gernade Bowers, he listened attentively, motionless, until the "farmer demonstration" broke out. Then he said, admiringly: "Bowers is putting it over. What was that he said again?"

Mrs. Moskowitz's husband repeated: "Take his hand out of the farmer's pockets and off the farmer's throat."

Listener Smith repeated it to himself and nodded. Later he said: "Bowers certainly is not mincing words."

After the speech he pretended to be a delegate, listening to resolutions as they were read, voting "Aye" with the unseen chorus. That night he sat up late reading newspapers.

The second night, just as the session was opening, the Smith radio went dead. A Klieg light used by camera men had burned out a house fuse. A butler and Son-in-Law Warner made repairs in time to pick up Permanent Chairman Robinson as he said that the roll of States would be called to name candidates for the Presidency.

When Candidate George of Georgia was named and the bands played "Dixie," Candidate Smith hummed the tune, smiling. Then Nominator Roosevelt began. Candidate Smith fingered his watch-chain, bit his cigar, blinked at the ceiling, took out the cigar, stared at the ceiling. The others sat rigid, occasionally stealing looks at him. During the directly personal part, about his "kindly heart" and understanding of "the average man," Candidate Smith looked overheated, troubled.

". . . Victory is his habit--the happy warrior--Alfred E. Smith," came the last words, then the crashing applause. Puffing hard at his cigar, Alfred E. Smith left the room. He returned later and did a few waltz steps to the broadcast blare of East Side, West Side. That evening's statement-to-the-press, not strictly accurate, was: "I heard Franklin Roosevelt and the demonstration and enjoyed them both."

On the third night, the circle had assembled before the host appeared. He carried three boxes of cigars and had them passed around. Suddenly he left the room, returning with a ten-gallon hat on his head.

"The gentleman from Texas," he cried and pretended to throw a lariat, to shoot-from-the-hip. He took off the hat, saying: "A little heavy for the climate." He sat down, stretched, yawned, listened to the reading of the Democratic platform. Someone on the convention dais could be heard asking for a glass of water.

"He didn't wait for the dry plank," chuckled Candidate Smith. "He asked for his water ahead of time."

Daughter Emily said: "He can have some of my ginger ale." The Candidate held her glass toward the radio and said: "Have a glass of ginger ale?"

When the dry plank was read, the Candidate inclined his ear, smiled slightly, whispered something to Son-in-Law Warner, left the room, went upstairs. He was beside the radio again before the balloting started.

When one of Alabama's votes was recorded for him he said: "One more than I ever got there before."

Arizona's spokesman declared for "Albert E. Smith." Candidate Smith said: "Albert? He hasn't got my first name right."

"Massachusetts--36 votes for Smith," said the radio.

Smith: "I got all the big babies, anyway--the 36 fellows."

Radio: "Michigan--30 votes for Smith."

Smith: "Everything above 30 I get."

Radio: "Missouri. . . ."

Smith: "There's an 'over-30' we don't get."

Radio: "Montana--eight votes for Smith."

Smith: "That's on account of that hat."

Radio: "New York--"

Smith: "Here's a hard one, this next one. This is great suspense."

Radio: "New York--90 votes for Smith."

Smith: "That old 90 is kind of a back-breaker."

Radio: "South Carolina . . . 18 votes for Chief Justice Watts."

Smith: "Watts he?"

Radio: "Wyoming. . . ."

Mrs. Moskowitz: "We've got every vote that's coming now."

Radio: "Hawaii. . . ."

Smith: "First rate, how's yourself?"

The first roll-call having ended with Candidate Smith eight and two-thirds votes short of the nomination, the radio reported that several delegates were clamoring for recognition by the chair. Candidate Smith cried: "Did you hear that?" He bent close to the radio. The radio announced the switch of Ohio votes which decided the thing.

"There it is! Ohio does it!" cried Nominee Smith.

First to reach the Nominee was William A. ("Chief") Humphries, an oldtime friend and golf partner. Daughter Emily hugged him. There was a jubilant fumble of handshakes. The Smith grin outdid itself. Daughter Emily and Mrs. Moskowitz kissed each other resoundingly.

The lawns of the Executive mansion were thronged. After much posing for photographers and a trip upstairs to talk with his wife on the long-distance telephone, the Nominee bowed and bowed on his front porch. He said: "I can only say to you ... I am overwhelmed and my heart is where my palate ought to be." Some of the crowd, led by a coatless, unshaven man without a necktie, pushed into the mansion and roamed about gaping at furniture, pictures, statuary. When they reached the reception room, Nominee Smith grasped their hands.

The crowds on the lawn milled and marched and sang until dawn. The Nominee did not sleep until 4:45 a. m.

That afternoon, before breakfasting, Nominee Smith issued copies of his message to the convention (see p. 10). He read the crucial sentences aloud, emphatically. Until evening he dictated answers to congratulations, then went to play with his year-old granddaughter, Mary Adams Warner. His first speech was to be at his political alma mater, oldtime Tammany Hall.

Albany's popular demonstrations continued over the weekend, culminating at the railroad station Sunday afternoon when Mrs. Smith's train rolled home from Houston. The Nominee boarded the train, proceeded to Manhattan for campaign conferences.