NEW YORK: The Rocky Roll

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While the Empire State's meadows and mountains were greening into summer, Democrats were preening with unqualified exuberance. In the fight for the statehouse, they had an unquestionable advantage, i.e., they held it already. Four years ago Multimillionaire W. Averell Harriman hit the hustings after two decades of public service, squeaked in as Governor by 11,125 votes. Harriman was stopped cold in his attempt to parlay the post into a 1956 Democratic nomination for President. So he decided to dig in at Albany. The Governor shoveled generous chunks of patronage to traditionally starved upstate Democrats to get them to slave for Ave. Periodically he toured all 62 counties. He cut ribbons or pulled switches on new projects, some of them started by his predecessor, Tom Dewey. He funneled money into new roads and schools, did it without substantially increasing taxes. Gaunt, autocratic Averell Harriman, turning 67 and testy, even learned to chuckle while chucking babies and trading supermarket small talk. As the 1958 election approached, Harriman's party was out of the financial red; his opponents for the moment were out of worthwhile candidates and issues. Honest Ave took a confident, proprietary grip on the ugly, Victorian Governor's mansion.

And at that point Nelson Rockefeller hove into view.

"He's Got Magic." Following a family tradition, Rockefeller one afternoon last winter called an unpublicized family council in the 56th-floor Rockefeller Center suite from which the Rockefellers guide their worldwide enterprises and philanthropies. To his brothers he outlined his newest intention: he was anxious to run for office; some Republicans suggested he announce for Governor. Said he: "I think I'll give it a whirl."

Whirling away were four other Republican hopefuls, including former Republican National Chairman Leonard Wood Hall, a Long Islander who had already got President Eisenhower's off-the-cuff endorsement. But not even sage Len Hall had a chance. By August, Rockefeller had collected delegates enough to turn the state Republican convention into a formality. By September, scarcely pausing for breath, he was on the campaign stump, attracting larger crowds than the most optimistic Republicans had expected. Everyone agreed Nelson Rockefeller was a political golden boy; everyone suggested a different reason why. Said brother Laurance, an amateur psychologist: "He has reached a degree of maturity really free of egotism, fears and frustrations, and is able to project himself into the problems of others." Said amiably disgruntled Leonard Hall: "He's got magic."

The Blue Books. At 50, Nelson Rockefeller is a grandfather four times but does not look it. His figure is sturdy (5 ft. 10 in., 175 Ibs.), his hair all brown and all there, his broad face handsome, his effect on women voters devastating. He has the endurance and enthusiasm required of a modern candidate; after an 18-hour day, he can look out over a street-corner crowd of 50 and say: "This is terrific. Really wonderful!" He has a sense of humor about his own wealth. Walking down a Brooklyn street recently, he found a dime, stuffed it in his pocket, said: "This is like carrying coals to Newcastle." His favorite promise and a proven laugh-getter: "I'd like to give Averell Harriman a run for his money."