The Only Fight

The only real fight at Philadelphia was over the vice presidential nomination. From the White House, Harry Truman flashed the word that he wanted Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas.

Lunging like a wounded bull, the South charged into action again. To Southerners, Douglas was a more obnoxious champion of Negro rights than Harry Truman ever was. They howled that the Douglas boom was merely an attempt to buy off the old New Dealers, who, under Leon Henderson, were the chief Douglas supporters. Snorted a. Southerner: "Douglas is just Wallace in black robes."

Harry Truman's loyal handyman Les

Biffle got the news on the Bellevue roof, exploded with surprise, put down his bourbon and water and bolted for his third-floor room. There he rounded up Illinois' Senator Scott Lucas and Connecticut's Senator Brien McMahon. They held a quick council of war. Cried McMahon: "What profit is it to the party if we nominate Douglas to pick up a few congressional seats in The Bronx and then see a second Democratic Convention convening in ten days in Richmond?"

No Decision. Next day the White House was deluged with urgent calls from Philadelphia. Harry Truman said he just wanted to feel out the sentiment of the delegates, insisted that he had made no hard & fast decision. In fact, he did not even know definitely that Douglas was available.

In Philadelphia, Les Biffle hopefully passed the word that Kentucky's aging Senator Alben Barkley was the man on whom all could agree. But Presidential Agent Clark Clifford slipped into town and called a round of conferences. Democratic Chairman Howard McGrath assured him that the votes were there to nominate Douglas.

They agreed that Douglas was the man who would add most to the ticket. As a Westerner, he might offset the Republicans' Earl Warren. As a zealous New Dealer, he was the one candidate who could draw away some of Henry Wallace's left-wingers.

No Quarter. But the rebel cries reached a hysterical pitch. It was clear that if Truman rammed Douglas through, he would risk a final, rending split in the party.

Harry Truman was evidently prepared to take the risk--just as Roosevelt had in forcing Henry Wallace on the 1940 convention. Twice, he called Douglas in Oregon. Douglas asked for 48 hours to make up his mind. He well knew that if he resigned from the Supreme Court, he could never expect to return. A Republican Senate was unlikely to confirm the nomination of a defeated Democrat.

After thinking it over, Justice Douglas spared Harry Truman his gamble. Said he: "No person, while a member of the Supreme Court, should seek political preferment ... I say definitely and finally that I am not available for any public office."

That left "Dear Alben" Barkley, the old party wheelhorse, out in front. Said

Barkley: "I am willing ... But it will have to come quick; I don't want it passed around so long it is like a cold biscuit." Some of the big city bosses thought Barkley was too old (70), too tired, and too far South to carry the big city strongholds. But on opening night, after his keynote speech, Alben Barkley got a spontaneous half-hour ovation as the orchestra boomed out My Old Kentucky Home.

Ovation or no, the final choice of a running mate was up to Harry Truman.

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