The June Brides

Just about the most fervently wooed individuals in the U.S. at the moment--with the possible exception of June brides --are the 147 (by last count) uncommitted Republican delegates. Since they may hold the balance of power at Chicago, they are fondly embraced by campaign literature, caressed by personal letters, dined & wined (or at least beered) at party shindigs, promised a secure future by politicos--if only they will love, honor & obey one or the other candidate.

The uncommitted react to the situation much like June brides, combining a certain amount of confusion with a heady sense of power.

The Dangers of Huff-Huff. A typical uncommitted delegate is Russell E. (for Eggman) Crawford, of Montgomery County, which adjoins Philadelphia on the west and north. Crawford is secretary and a director of the Ehret Magnesia Manufacturing Co. (200 employees), a respected community leader and a member of 39 organizations, including the Masons (33rd Degree), the Rotary, the American Legion, the Philadelphia Union League, the Jefferson fire company, the board of trustees of the Y.W.C.A. and the Republican Party.

He started his political career in his teens, driving voters of Norristown's old third ward to the polls in a buggy. In 1940 he was a sergeant-at-arms at the Republican Convention, a delegate in 1944, an alternate in 1948. As a convention veteran, he knows the emotional crises that can beset the delegate's mind. "Let us suppose that one man has 560 votes and the other 550. That's when you have to keep cool. You can't be huff-huffed into a wrong decision."

Since the primary (April 22), Crawford has received 350 letters and postcards from voters, so far about 6-4 in favor of Ike. Sample exhortations: "General Eisenhower is the only Republican who can win this election--and we have to win it." "Eisenhower says he's a Republican but he has never proved it." He has had letters from Senators Taft, Capehart and Lodge. He has been getting pro-Taft papers, including the Chicago Tribune. He dutifully reads as many editorials as he can.

Crawford likes both candidates ("I know Taft's viewpoints and I'm very much in accord with his qualifications. I am waiting to hear more from Eisenhower's own lips, but I have confidence in the people who are backing him"). In fact, the only thing wrong with the two gentlemen, as far as Crawford can see, is that one is bound to lose. Says Crawford worriedly: "We don't want to be in the position of having backed a loser when the winner distributes the patronage."

Virtue In Danger. In a similar but more embattled position is Delegate George Shaffer of the 17th Michigan District, which is north of Detroit. An employee of the telephone company, he hardly gets off the telephone even after hours; on any evening he may receive between a dozen and two dozen calls from political workers. He has had 550 letters (350 from Ike fans), and his mailman, says Shaffer, is getting a little tired of the whole business. "Even my neighbors," reports Shaffer indignantly, "have tried to influence me while playing bridge or canasta."

A man's political virtue is not safe these days. "I walk out of the building to go to lunch," says Shaffer, "and somebody grabs my arm and says: 'How about joining me at lunch today?' Complete strangers have been waylaying me in the lobby. A fellow's got to be careful." Unguarded words, feels Shaffer, can give all sorts of people all sorts of wrong ideas; both the Ike and Taft forces have recently listed him as committed to their side, which amounts to a charge of political bigamy. So far, though, Shaffer has had no bribes offered to him (he did at the last convention).

A little espionage is not unusual among delegates. Shaffer thinks that in Michigan there are now 33 uncommitted delegates ("We have organized a group to keep one another posted"), but suspects that at least a dozen of them will succumb to the blandishments of their fallen brethren (i.e., the committed) before July 7.

Shaffer himself is not particularly interested in which candidate is chosen, as long as he represents majority will in the 17th District (a poll is now being taken to determine that will). Says Shaffer: "So far I have been able to stay on the fence and keep both ears to the ground. But it is a difficult position."

Mrs. Shaffer is not having an easy time either, with all those canvassers who ring the doorbell all evening. But she is getting used to it. She merely opens the door, says, "Come in," and calls out to her husband: "George, here's another one."

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