Mangled Machine

Last week Illinois Democrats and Republicans stormed the polls in unprecedented numbers for the Statewide primaries to pick candidates for Governor. Among Democrats, a vote for Governor Henry Horner's renomination might mean: 1) approval of that official's honest, mildly progressive administration; 2) disapproval of Chicago's Mayor Edward Joseph Kelly and his ruthless Cook County political machine. A vote for Candidate Herman Niels Bundesen might mean: 1) approval of Mayor Kelly and party patronage; 2) attachment to Publisher Robert Rutherford McCormick's Chicago Tribune, which threw its arch-Republican influence behind Boss Kelly's candidate.

In Republican circles a vote for kinky-headed Lawyer C. Wayland Brooks was a vote for the Tribune, against the New Deal. A vote for Len Small was a vote for malodorous machine politics. A vote for the five other Republican candidates was a vote for nobody.

In Chicago the polls opened at 6 a. m. In four precincts boxes were ordered confiscated when found half-filled with ballots before 6 a. m. Three hours later Henry Horner rolled off to the nearest polling place to plunk down one vote for Henry Horner. Other Horner voters, charged the Governor's staff, were being bought off, slugged and kidnapped by Kelly toughs. From their headquarters rushed Horner's brown-clad State troopers to rescue Horner supporters from Kelly policemen.

By 11 o'clock that night what the Tribune considered a "comparatively quiet primary day" was over. In their Hotel Morrison penthouse. Mayor Kelly and Boss Patrick A. Nash gloomed with Candidate Bundesen. In the Hotel Congress, Governor Horner beamed amiably, plumped his chubby hand into those of well-wishers. As expected, Bundesen had piled up a big lead over Horner in Cook County. But, as a whacking rebuke to the rule of Bosses Kelly and Nash, downstate counties turned in a lead of 310,000 for Horner, insured him the nomination by 150,000 votes. Asked if he would now support Horner in November, Mayor Kelly snarled: "How the hell should I know?"

Mayor Kelly last week had two alternatives: 1) play ball with Democrat Horner; or 2) hold fast to the Tribune's apron-strings and lend silent support to the Tribune's Lawyer Brooks, who proved himself an able political personality by swamping Small and the five other Republican hopefuls.

Son of a country Congregationalist preacher, Charles Wayland ("Curly") Brooks, 39, grew up on a Neponset farm, left the University of Illinois during the War to join the Marines. At Belleau Wood he captured single-handed 27 Germans in a machine-gun nest, was later severely wounded, returned to the U. S. as a first lieutenant with the Distinguished Service Cross, the Croix de Guerre, the American Navy Medal. In 1926 he jumped from law school into State's Attorney Crowe's office as assistant prosecutor, curried favor among good Government groups by his fearless campaign against Chicago kidnappers, bombers, murderers. Despite the Democratic landslide in 1932, he made a good showing on the Republican ticket for State Treasurer. In 1934 only Cook County opposition kept him from being elected Representative-at-Large.

Hard pressed for ammunition in the campaign, his political enemies spread scandalous lies that his kinky hair and heavy features were signs of Negro blood, that the 350-acre farm to which he frequently retires with his vivacious, red-headed wife, is only a device to gain agrarian support. He drives an Auburn, golfs in the 90's, goes duck-hunting. Impressed by his vigorous campaign and easy victory, Presidential supporters of Kansas' Alfred M. Landon promptly boomed Nominee Brooks for keynoter at the Republican National Convention.

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