My Short, Happy Time with Eleanor Roosevelt and Other Adventures in 1960
It was July 1960 and she was seated on the sofa in my hotel room. I was sitting on the floor, literally at her feet. We were alone, except for a young aide of hers. We were in Los Angeles at the time of the Democratic National Convention and we were watching a televised debate between John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson. Kennedy’s nomination was being hotly contested not only by Johnson, but by a host of other candidates, including Adlai Stevenson, who was supported by Mrs. Roosevelt. I was then serving on Stevenson’s campaign staff.
As it happened, there was a somewhat unique aspect to my involvement with Stevenson. The previous May, I was invited to meet privately with John Kennedy in his hotel room. He was campaigning in Des Moines, my hometown. In 1956, I had headed the Iowa effort in Stevenson’s losing presidential bid against Dwight Eisenhower. Now in 1960, Stevenson was running for president for a third time, and, despite the fact that his campaign was showing no particular signs of life, I had once again agreed to lead in Iowa.
And so it was that Kennedy invited me to his room. There, he began effusively over-complimenting me. After a few minutes of that, he proceeded to offer me a position on his staff. After thanking him for the offer, I declined.
Kennedy was puzzled by my quick refusal. “Don’t you want to think about it?” he asked. “Several of your fellow Stevenson people have already come over to me.”
“Yes, I know that,” I stated. “They can do whatever they wish. As for me, I’ve made my commitment to Stevenson and I don’t think I want to break it.”
“Don’t you know that Stevenson doesn’t have a chance?” Kennedy asked. “I might not win, but he sure as hell won’t. How can you possibly disagree with that?”
“I can’t,” I admitted.
“Then you’re a damn fool and you really have no business being in politics,” Kennedy stated, not unkindly.
I couldn’t disagree with that either.
Nonetheless, I persisted in my efforts on behalf of Stevenson, and here I was at the July nominating convention. As it turned out, those efforts only managed to prove the accuracy of Kennedy’s observation concerning my lack of political acumen.
Consequently, despite all practical indications of the hopelessness of the cause, I found myself personally leading a very public last ditch effort to block Kennedy’s nomination.
The thinking behind this effort was that if Kennedy did not win on the first ballot, he would lose on subsequent ballots.
A significant number of Kennedy first-ballot votes would come from the release to Kennedy of so-called “favorite son” first-ballot votes, i.e., states where the delegates had been instructed by their nominating conventions to cast their votes for one of that state’s leaders.
That was the case with Iowa Gov. Herschel Loveless. The plan was to get the convention chairman to rule that “favorite son” pledged delegates must vote as pledged on the first ballot, thus denying Kennedy a first-ballot victory. And, because Loveless precisely fit into this mold, I, as a delegate from Iowa, was directed to lead the fight. Unfortunately for me, Loveless thought he had been promised the vice president nomination by Kennedy, and therefore any effort to block his withdrawal as a “favorite son” was anathema to Kennedy and, of course, to Loveless.
I was left with no doubt about Loveless’s feelings when, in a convention corridor with the press all around us, he stopped me to growl, “I’m going to destroy you, you no good son of a bitch.”
At the time, I believed this was my political death knell. The fact that a little over five years later I found myself serving in the White House as one of Lyndon Johnson’s assistants is a story for another day.
But at that time, and taking actions that I then thought clearly demonstrated the wisdom of Kennedy’s observation about my future, I fought on to the last. In the end, I found myself in a small office at the back of the convention dais, desperately and unsuccessfully arguing my case to Florida’s Gov. Leroy Collins, the convention chairman, with the assistance of Sen. Eugene McCarthy, who remained with me right up to the moment he walked out to give the nominating speech for Stevenson.
Then it was over. Kennedy was nominated on the first ballot and Stevenson, Johnson (for the moment), and all the others, were losers.
But none of that, in my memory, overrides the pleasure I received during that July day I spent with Eleanor Roosevelt.
It had come about because Mrs. Roosevelt, in her fervent wish to do everything she could to help Stevenson win the nomination, had offered to spend a day personally meeting with as many state delegations as possible. The Stevenson campaign was grateful and, for reasons never told to me, directed me to escort her. It was an experience I have never forgotten. Despite her age — then 76 — she was vigorous, full of energy, charm, and wisdom, and exhausting to keep up with. I thought she was effective but in reality, she probably did not change many votes.
In the middle of our journey through the state delegations, we received word that Kennedy and Johnson were about to have a televised debate before the Texas delegation. Mrs. Roosevelt turned me and said that she very much wanted to watch. “I want to watch privately,” she emphasized. But where? That would not be easy for a woman as universally recognized as Eleanor Roosevelt.
At that moment, we were visiting a delegation in a hotel ballroom which happened to be the hotel where I had a room — a small room at that. But it had a television. Gingerly, I suggested going there, and, without hesitation, she said, “Let’s go.”
And so we went.
After the debate concluded, I escorted Mrs. Roosevelt to the hotel entrance where her car was waiting. She thanked me and said goodbye.
Then she shook my hand. She had the softest, warmest hand I have ever touched.
Sherwin Markman, a graduate of the Yale Law School, lives with his wife, Kathryn (Peggy) in Rock Hall, Maryland. He served as an assistant to President Lyndon Johnson, after which was a trial lawyer in Washington, D.C. He has published several books, including one dealing with the Electoral College. He has also taught and lectured about the American political system.
Common Sense for the Eastern Shore
