The Wide-Open Winner

In his moment of triumph, Nominee Adlai Stevenson announced a decision that gave the 1956 Democratic Convention its highest, wildest moments: he left the nomination of a vice-presidential candidate entirely to the will and whim of the delegates without a word about his personal choice.

The backers of Massachusetts' Senator John Kennedy, convinced that they could not get a flat endorsement from Adlai, had been trying for three days to persuade Stevenson to throw the nomination wide open. Stevenson finally gave in to their main argument: that the Democrats might be able to stir up more trouble for their favorite campaign target, Vice President Nixon, by inviting a sudden-death competition in their own ranks. Immediately after the convention nominated him, Stevenson went to a two-room suite (decorated with prints of American birds, e.g., the black-billed cuckoo and the boat-tailed grackle) in the Stock Yard Inn, next to the convention amphitheater, to talk over his decision with Democratic leaders.

"If He Doesn't Pick . . ." Waiting at the inn were his campaign manager, Jim Finnegan (see box), and his old political sponsor, Chicago's Jacob Arvey. Their private discussion of the pros and cons of Adlai's open-race plan floated over an open transom:

FINNEGAN : They'll say he lacks decisiveness.

ARVEY: It's a very courageous thing to do.

FINNEGAN: It's the first time it's ever been done. I talked to Larry Spivak

[Meet the Press], and he says we underrate the imaginativeness of the American people.

ARVEY: Dave [presumably Pittsburgh's Mayor David Lawrence] doesn't like it.

FINNEGAN: Well, suppose he doesn't pick Kennedy. Then the Catholics are against him. If he doesn't pick Kefauver, then he loses all of his people. If he doesn't pick Humphrey, it doesn't make too much difference.

Brimstone Words. When Adlai arrived at the inn, he faced angry opposition in the formidable persons of House Speaker Sam Rayburn and Senate Majority Leader Lyndon Johnson -who share in the South's dislike of Estes Kefauver and thought a wide-open convention would give the nod to Estes and his primary-built organization. Rayburn and Johnson used brimstone words while protesting that, in giving the convention its choice, Stevenson would seem to be abdicating his responsibility. People might think that Adlai would have equal trouble making up his mind about "whether some night to use the Seventh Fleet."

But Adlai was adamant (he specifically vetoed only Missouri's Senator Stuart Symington, who, he said, has yet to make a positive Senate record), and he went off to the amphitheater to launch the Democrats on a night of politicking.

Within minutes after Stevenson made his announcement, no delegate could buy his own drink and no elderly lady could cross a Chicago street without help from an eager vice-presidential candidate. The once-foot-dragging Jack Kennedy suddenly became a bounding ball of energy, stayed up most of the night looking for votes. Minnesota's Hubert Humphrey (the only avowed candidate when the convention opened), Tennessee's Albert Gore and New York's Bob Wagner all hurled themselves bodily into the struggle, but, predictably, it was Estes Kefauver who covered the most ground, shook the most hands and drawled "bless you" to the most speakers proclaiming him "the greatest man America has ever produced." It was 4 a.m. when Estes held his last press conference, described his chances in glowing terms.

"Carmine Can Make This One." By the time the delegates streamed onto the floor Friday afternoon for the big votes, the lines were fairly well drawn. Estes Kefauver had the whooping support of delegates from the farm belt and the power-hungry West. The South and some big-state, big-city machines (with the notable exception of Jim Finnegan's labor-conscious Pennsylvania) were trying to settle on a stop-Kefauver candidate.

The voting began. Illinois -whose Democratic leaders still blame the Kefauver committee investigations for the disastrous defeat of some machine candidates in 1950 -went mostly to Kennedy. Missouri cast its lot with Hubert Humphrey. New York went to Mayor Wagner. Tennessee, where Estes is involved in a furious factional fight with Governor Frank Clement, voted for its other SenatorAlbert Gore.* But the first-ballot count stood: Kefauver 483 1/2, Kennedy 304, Gore 178, Wagner 162 1/2, Humphrey 134 1/2.

The scramble became even madder. Connecticut State Chairman John Bailey, who had been using Governor Abraham Ribicoff as a Kennedy messenger boy, sent word to Carmine De Sapio: "Tell Carmine he can get out of this with something. He can make this one -if he'll go now." Carmine agreed (he has never forgotten that Estes and the Kefauver committee in 1950 made him out an old pal of Racketeer Frank Costello). The Texas delegation caucused. Albert Gore's Texas backers fought wildly, but the delegation was faced down by grim old Sam Rayburn. "Gentlemen," said Rayburn, "you can vote as you please--but Sam Rayburn is voting for Kennedy." Under the unit rule, Texas stood 56 for Kennedy.

The Big Switch. The second ballot started, and Kennedy surged handily ahead of Kefauver. The Missouri delegation rushed away to caucus. Connecticut's Bailey grabbed Missouri's Senator Tom Hennings by the lapels and shouted a plea that he turn his Humphrey votes to Kennedy. But Hennings, aware that Kennedy had voted against rigid, 90%-of-parity farm supports, barked right back: "What about the farm vote?" There were angry stirrings in the Tennessee delegation, and Albert Gore grabbed a microphone to withdraw in favor of Kefauver.

At that point Kennedy stood with 648 votes -just 38 1/2 short of nomination. Over at the Stock Yard Inn, Kennedy, lolling in a private room in his shorts, began dressing to make his triumphal convention appearance. But before he could get there, the Tennessee switch had changed the chemistry of the balloting. Kennedy's vote hung. Kefauver's began to surge. Oklahoma switched from Gore to Kefauver; Minnesota, which had been split between Kefauver and Humphrey, swung solidly behind Estes. Kennedy and Kefauver strained to go over the top, as, in a situation of total confusion, half a dozen standards waved high.

Missouri's Hennings was seen whispering with Massachusetts' Representative John McCormack, who soon spun and came rushing through the crowd toward the chairman's platform. Yelled McCormack: "Sam! Sam! Missouri!" Sam Rayburn, who had been calmly watching the waving standards before deciding which state to recognize, called on Missouri. Tom Hennings announced a switch of 31 1/2 votes from Humphrey to Kefauver -Estes was so close that it was all over but the shouting. By directing Rayburn's attention to Missouri, John McCormack had settled a score with Jack Kennedy, the rising young politician who last spring took control of the Massachusetts state organization away from McCormack and his old-guard friends.

The final count was 755 1/2 for Kefanver and 589 for Kennedy, who appeared in time to make the motion for Kefauver's nomination by acclamation. Estes Kefauver ambled onto the platform to express his gratitude. He was half dead from his strenuous exertions, but it made little difference in his appearance. Waving his hands and grinning broadly, he shone all over with delight at finally winning the place -or almost the place -on the national ticket that he had been working hard for lo those four long years.

* Arriving home in Nashville after the convention, Kefauver-hating Frank Clement waved to a small knot of Kefauver fans. "Hi, everybody," said he cheerily. "We got him in." From the crowd came a loud feminine voice: "You all did everything you could to stop him!" Replied Clement plaintively: "Listen, we did all we could. If it hadn't been for us, he wouldn't have gotten in." The lady: "You don't need to tell us anything. We saw."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.