Brass Bands & Boos

Like everybody else, Harry Truman could hear the cheers and brass bands, but unlike everybody else, never once bothered to stick his head out the window.

At the moment Douglas MacArthur entered the House chamber, Dean Acheson hung his black Homburg on the rack outside the President's door. After a 20-minute huddle with the President over foreign policy, he left. Then, as if to make it pointedly clear that he was not watching his TV set, Harry Truman emerged, climbed into his car ten minutes earlier than usual and drove to Blair House for lunch. Whether he sneaked a peek at television there was a well-kept secret. (Acheson succumbed to temptation, caught the tail end of MacArthur's speech.)

The next afternoon, with MacArthur off to New York, the President, accompanied by Bess, drove in sunshine to Griffith Stadium to perform the traditional and normally happy presidential chore of tossing out the first ball of the season. There were a few boos from the bleachers when the President appeared, but they were drowned out when a band struck up Hail to the Chief. Grinning broadly, Southpaw Truman, after a couple of balks to tease photographers, pegged a fast throw to the infield. Then he and Bess settled back, munched a hot dog apiece, watched the Senators beat the Yankees, 5-3.

All went well until the beginning of the eighth inning, when the public-address system blared out the routine request for spectators to remain seated until the President had departed. The crowd's disconcerting response: a long and rolling boo. Harry Truman stared straight ahead. It was the first time in his six years of presiding at opening games that he had ever been booed; in fact it was the first time a President had been so booed since Herbert Hoover went to the ball game in 1931.

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