"The Presidential Special"

Gone from Adlai Stevenson's 13-car train as it jounced through the bright-hued Midwest last week was the sign that had keyed the earlier stages of the Democratic campaign: "The Joe Smith Special." In its place was a brightly painted new one: "The Stevenson Presidential Special." The switch was symbolic, for the Democratic candidate, with less than three weeks to go before E-Day, had gotten about as much mileage as possible out of Joe Smith, well knew that it was time to stoke the campaign with all the burning issues he could find if he was ever going to reach the White House on time.

By Stevenson's lights this meant the H-bomb, the proposal to end the draft, a stepped-up attack on Nixon and a crackling criticism of the Eisenhower foreign policy. And as he whistle-stopped through Michigan and Ohio, hedgehopped into Kentucky and then flew in to Cincinnati, he worked these themes hard. In Michigan, in heavily industrial (and heavily unionized) Flint, nobody seemed to care much. Some 3,500 turned out to hear him call Nixon "shifty," "rash" and "inexperienced," a "man of many masks." (Tom Dewey had drawn 5,000 the night before.) The crowd in the one-third empty auditorium responded politely: although the words were harsh, Stevenson's manner was courteous.

"Frank Needs Help." Next day, as the "Presidential Special" purred into Ohio, independent-minded Governor Frank J. Lausche, who hasn't done any all-out campaigning for any other Democrat in years, heaved himself aboard. Lausche, running unnerved, if not scared, for the Senate against Republican Incumbent George Bender, introduced Stevenson at each halt with gushing praise: "a great American," "a fearless man." Said a fellow Ohio Democrat of this unusual display of affection: "Frank needs help."

All day the crowds grew bigger, and Adlai, in his moderate voice, fed them strong words. He expanded his list of Republican demons to include Senator Bender, Wisconsin's Joe McCarthy, Indiana's Bill Jenner. He linked his demand for an end to H-bomb tests with his proposals to end the draft: "We don't want our boys to be drafted," he said at Akron. "We don't want to live in the shadow of the mushroom cloud." At Youngstown. before an enthusiastic crowd of more than 10,000, he devoted a full-dress speech to military manpower. The gist: the draft, with its rapid manpower turnover, is wasteful, needlessly expensive and unsuited to an "age of complex new weapons and new military needs." His suggested alternative: a corps of professional, highly trained technicians that young men would be encouraged to join freely by offers of high wages, special bonuses and other inducements to long service.

Ambition Accomplished. When the Stevenson entourage got to Cincinnati-after whirlwind forays into Lexington (where he talked through a drizzle) and Louisville (armory one-third empty)-it was delighted to sense real enthusiasm. Before an applauding (56 interruptions), highly partisan audience in Cincinnati's Music Hall, Stevenson delivered a major speech on foreign policy. "The Republican candidate" said he (obviously nettled because Eisenhower never refers to him by name), has been "misleading" the nation about success at Suez. The truth, he said, is that "in these past few months ... the Communist rulers of Soviet Russia have accomplished a Russian ambition that the czars could never accomplish: Russian power and influence have moved into the Middle East."

Nowhere did Adlai's burning issues really start a signal fire. But if he was discouraged he did not show it. At week's end he said cheerily: "We know there's lots of things to get done, and come next January we're gonna start doing them."

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