National Affairs: Exit

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Two mornings after the day before, the Man with the Brown Derby received newsgatherers again. He dictated a farewell message:

"I certainly do not expect ever to run for public office again. I have had all I can stand of it. I have given a quarter of a century of probably the best years of my life to it. I will never lose my interest in public affairs, that is a sure thing. But as far as running for office again is concerned—that's finished."

He rephrased it later: "My decision never again to run is unalterable. I said I was through, and I am through, with public life. I intend to take a rest and then devote the rest of my life to my family and my friends."

Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the man who now seemed to become, automatically, the national Democracy's most potent figure (see p. 12), said: "Get a rest, now."

Governor Smith, bound for Albany to get New York State ready to turn over to his friend, replied:

"Well, I may see you in Georgia. I can't tell where I'll be. . I'm just going around in the car, wherever I feel like."

"The car," of course, was the St. Nicholas, private railroad home of Friend William F. Kenny. The St. Nicholas rolled up to Albany.

For a moment it seemed that this last scene would be too much for him. Ragged banners still flew in Albany, their legends, "Smith for President," mocked and cancelled by wind and sleet. Yet the Albanians were out to meet him in cheering, bomb-bursting thousands. Mayor John Boyd Thacher insisted on taking his arm through the crush, just as on triumphal occasions when the Brown Derby used to return as Governor-re-elect. Now he was President-reject.

"Al, Al, Al, we're still with you," the people were shouting. A note of compassion blended with their joy at seeing him and made it a sharper cry than ever before. The Brown Derby waved as of old, but the old smile somehow did not come. The lips were compressed. They were trembling.

Despite the storm, the grounds around the Executive Mansion were just as full as on that mid-summer night of nomination.

"... No man ever lived who held so high a place in the affection of the people of this city," Mayor Thacher said, for them.

". . . It just fills me right up," replied the Man with the Brown Derby. In a choked voice he promised to come back, often.

That was the last of it—until he leaves the Governorship on Jan. 1. He took satisfaction from his popular vote. "There's only one man in this country who got more votes for the Presidency than I did this year."

A newsgatherer "bit" and asked: "Who's that, Governor?"

"Herbert Hoover."

Late returns dwindled and the Smith vote of 14,626,823 did not reach the Harding and Coolidge totals of 16,152,200 and 15,725,016, respectively. But Smith received 5,479,450 more than any Democrat had ever received and there were other things to feel good about.

The Albany reception—"It's natural enough to greet the victor, but when you greet the vanquished, that is different."

Moving from Albany—"It's just like getting married all over again, what with having to buy furniture and everything."