Sherman Adams looked glum as he walked into Ike’s suite at the Commodore Hotel in Manhattan the afternoon after Eleanor’s historic nomination. He dropped a stack of newspapers as thick as two cinder blocks on the coffee table and fell onto the plush couch, throwing his head back against the cushion for a second before he spoke.
“Have you seen any of these?” Adams asked, picking the New York Times off the top of the pile and not waiting for an answer. “All the main headlines are about the same, ‘Eleanor to Run,’ etcetera, etcetera, in screaming big typeface—but these side stories.” He jabbed his finger at the page. “‘Democrats Nominate a Woman, Historic First!’ ‘Eleanor to Truman: I’m Running with Rayburn,’ ‘Former First Lady as Independent as Ever,’ and here’s the Chicago Trib, for God’s sake, ‘Eleanor Roosevelt Gives Nation Historic Moment’ and ‘Roosevelt Dumps Sparkman.’ At least you got top billing in the main headline.” Adams turned the paper around so Ike could see the headline that read “It’s Eleanor Against Ike!”
“The Trib will never endorse her. And that Sparkman move has to hurt in the South, don’t you think? What are you so worried about?” Ike asked. “Come on, I’m having a late lunch.” He pointed to a room service tray set up with white linen and placed on a side table by the window.
“Look, we were ready to treat Stevenson like a dinghy with a thousand-pound anchor named Truman, remember? ‘Time for a change,’ and all that?” Adams said. “Stevenson was Truman’s stalking horse, and that was perfect for us. Just perfect. And, yes, Alabama will be enraged over their man, Sparkman, but putting Rayburn on the ticket will take care of the rest of the South, I’m guessing. I swear, you get an electric shock down there if you try pulling the Republican lever. Except for the anti-Catholic outpouring in ’28 against Al Smith, they’ve voted Democratic in every presidential election since 1876. Does that tell you something, General?” Adams’s face had gotten red and he seemed to be talking to himself as much as to Ike.
“Calm down, Sherman. Really, she’s still a woman, after all. She can’t change that. And there are plenty of men in this country who will hear that screeching voice of hers and be reminded of their wives’ worst moments.” Ike laughed. “Know what I mean?”
Adams returned a wan smile.
“Oh, you know, I did call Mrs. Roosevelt…” Ike said taking a sip of his Coke.
“Ike!” Adams suddenly bleated as he held open the New York Times. “What’s this? You agreed to a joint statement?”
“What’s the problem, Sherman? You told me to call Eleanor, and she suggested it. She said she wanted to be sure that there wouldn’t be any misinterpretation of either of our statements about Adlai. You know, that we should make sure it wouldn’t seem like either of us was trying to get some political advantage from his death. Seemed reasonable to me.” Ike took a bite of his roast beef sandwich.
“We could issue our own damn statement without her help. As if you would exploit the situation.” Adams was pacing and fuming with equal vigor.
“I thought you weren’t worried about Eleanor. ‘Landslide,’ remember? Those were your words. Here, give me that.” Ike pushed his chair back with some force, grabbed the paper from Adams, and began reading, “‘As the presidential nominees of our respective parties, we want the country to know that we share a deep respect for Adlai Stevenson, and mourn the passing of this honorable man and patriot. In deference to his memory, neither of us will be campaigning or issuing campaign-related statements until the conclusion of the memorial service we will be attending, to be held on Tuesday, July 29. May his soul rest in peace and God bless our country.’ I don’t see a problem with that, Sherman.”
“Well, I do. She’s trying to immediately have herself seen as your equal. Also, she wanted to buy some time to get her campaign going without saying that’s what she’s doing. So she gets you to cover for her. Don’t you get it? A joint statement,” Adams shot out.
Eisenhower smiled. “That’s awfully cynical, Sherm. And my equal? Come on. For someone so confident of winning, you seem to be getting a little nervous. I think you’re reading this wrong. I’m no fan of Eleanor’s. Perle Mesta told me that she was passing stories about Mamie having a drinking problem,” Eisenhower’s eyes flashed with anger, “but this seemed to make sense.”
“Look, I don’t believe this country will put a woman in the White House any more than I believe that those unidentified flying objects over Salem last week were aliens, but that doesn’t mean we don’t run a campaign as if we were facing FDR himself,” Adams shot back. “Have you heard the stories about what Eleanor did in the ’20s to her own cousin when he ran as a Republican for governor against Al Smith? She tied him to the Teapot Dome scandal when he had nothing to do with it, and drove around in a car with a big teapot on top. Why, I’m already hearing rumors that they’re going to harp on the Harding scandals to offset the Truman mess.”
“I never heard that story about her,” Ike said.
“Trust me, Ike. She’s not just a sweet grandma with a famous name, and this ploy to control our statement says to me that we have to stay sharp.” Adams grabbed the newspaper back from Ike. “We are going to beat her, general, but we’ll have to change our strategy. The truth is, if she were a man, she’d be a formidable opponent. She has critics, but she also has a lot of popular support and goodwill, like you.” Adams started ticking off his points on his fingers. “She has a lot of experience in government, even if it isn’t formal, but of course, she has no military experience. She’s met every foreign leader and won tremendous praise for her work at the UN.” Ike had stopped eating and was looking at Adams, a frown etched on his face.
“And she was married to the most revered president since Lincoln and is a constant reminder of the things he did that Americans want to keep.”
“That all doesn’t sound too good, Sherman. Not for me, anyway.”
“Remember, Ike, I said she’d be a problem if she were a man. But she’s not. And we just have to keep reminding voters of that. Subtly, of course.” Adams looked thoughtful.
“Yeah, Ike, I think that’s it. We run a very pro-women campaign. Pro-women in the home, that is. We talk about the critical role women play in helping their husbands, taking care of their children, and how we’re going to help them do that. We call Eleanor the ‘former First Lady,’ and ‘grandmother’ as often as possible. We get Mamie out there as the wonderful, supportive spouse.” Adams was getting excited now; he’d even started to smile. “And we play you up as the great general, which you are, and which we were going to do anyway. The public will get the point.”
“I hope so, Sherman. I certainly can’t imagine they would think a woman, any woman, could run this country, especially with a war going on,” Ike said, as he turned back to his lunch.