THE CONGRESS: Hell & Close Harmony

(See front cover)

In the Pall Mall room of Washington's Raleigh Hotel there was a grand celebration. All but nine of the Senate's 75 Democrats were present. Outside the door was a little wooden ramp of the kind whose appearance at any Washington hotel indicates that the President himself may arrive at any moment. Over the prandial tablecloth fluttered two perturbed tumbling pigeons, symbols of Peace. The Democratic Party was about to celebrate the accession of a new leader in the Senate, to drown old woes in new harmony.

Such last week was the scene of the convivial dinner tendered to Senator Alben Barkley of Kentucky, boosted last month into the Senate Leadership at an hour when his Democratic colleagues were divided with the greatest bitterness over the Supreme Court issue. Moreover, the celebration was timed to mark the burial of that very bitterness, the hoped-for hour when with his original handicap removed he could lead a reunited majority through a triumphal finale in a closing Congress.

Dissension put aside, every Democratic face beamed friendship. Senator King, head of the subcommittee which drafted the vehement report which recommended that the President's Court Bill be rejected so overwhelmingly that no similar proposal would ever be made "to the free representatives of the free people," came and put his arm affectionately round Alben Barkley's shoulder. Senator Pat Harrison, defeated by one vote for the post which Barkley won, spoke in tribute to his successful rival. Franklin Roosevelt actually did not appear in person but Vice President Garner, wise, red-faced old man of the Senate, read the President's eulogy of the new Leader, a letter ending with the felicitous phrase: "He knows by sound instinct that on occasion party harmony is aided and abetted by close harmony."

Close harmony was not lacking. Abetted by the Shoreham Hotel's blonde Accordionist Ida Clarke, Senator Byrnes, who opposed Barkley's election, intoned When I Grow Too Old To Dream, and in a sentimental mood Alben Barkley himself, without rising from his seat, gave his favorite rendition of his favorite melody, Wagon Wheels. If there were any discords that evening no Democratic ear would hear them.

Hell. The morning after, Leader Barkley tried to continue his harmonious and efficient drive to put through final legislation. To Vice President Garner's desk he sent a memorandum outlining the order in which bills were to be considered. After disposal of a bill for peacetime exports of helium, Senator King was to be recognized to call up the District of Columbia Airport Bill. The Helium Bill was passed as Senator King sat near Leader Barkley. He rustled his papers and prepared to get up with the Airport Bill but was slow on his feet. New York's Senator Robert Wagner rose and said: "Mr. President, I move that the Senate proceed to the consideration of Calendar No. 814, the bill ... to assure persons within the jurisdiction of every State equal protection of the laws and to punish the crime of lynching."

"The question is on agreeing to the motion of the Senator from New York," rapped out the Vice President.