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86 chapter ten The 1952 Republican National Convention In the fall of 1951, the big question was whether Dwight D. Eisenhower would accept a Republican nomination. The general remained above the fray. If he ran, he would be challenging Robert Taft, who had lost the nomination to Dewey in 1948. Dewey had suffered a surprising, devastating loss to Harry Truman. Now, four years later, Taft’s position was strong. The son of a president and himself a senator, Taft had positioned himself to take the nomination. No party regular was a serious threat to “Mr. Republican.” Earl Warren was a candidate, but Warren understood he had little chance unless Eisenhower ran and split the delegates. Harold Stassen had thrown his hat in for the second of nine attempts, but no one expected him to prevail . Dwight Eisenhower represented a very real threat to Taft’s ambitions, but Dwight Eisenhower would not commit. As the 1952 convention approached, of the three white men who were the architects of the effort to build a meaningful Republican Party in Georgia, only Harry Sommers was for Taft. Elbert Tuttle, for his part, pinned his hopes on an Eisenhower candidacy, despite reservations. Eisenhower, he felt, had far too little civic experience. After graduating from West Point, Eisenhower had spent his entire career, except for a short stint as the president of Columbia University, in the army. But it appeared that if Eisenhower didn’t win the nomination, Taft would. Recalling a “very strong speech” Taft had made in the Senate in 1940 opposing an extension of the draft, Tuttle thought that Taft, a committed isolationist, presented a real threat. “To my way of thinking,” Tuttle explained, “this showed an utter lack by Senator Taft of the realities that the world faced and particularly the United States faced.”1 He would take his chances with the general—that is, if he could. As long as Eisenhower had not entered 1952 Republican National Convention » 87 the race and Taft remained the overwhelmingly likely nominee, Tuttle remained silent. Eisenhower supporters had little reason for optimism, especially after it was reported that Hugh Scott, the Republican senator from Pennsylvania, had not been able to talk Ike into running. Eisenhower himself remained remote. Then, in October, Killian Townsend got a call from Tuttle. Tuttle explained that he had received a call from “the Rockefeller people.” They wanted Eisenhower supporters to form a citizens’ committee for Eisenhower; their goal was to establish one in every state. Townsend rounded up fifteen Republican friends, not including Tuttle, who as the Fulton County Republican chair remained officially neutral. Then Townsend took his list to George Goodwin, political reporter for the Atlanta Journal and a Pulitzer Prize winner. Goodwin perused the list of Georgia Citizens for Eisenhower for President and told Townsend he wasn’t going to give the group any coverage: “No one on here means anything,” he explained. Except for James Dorsey, son of former governor Hugh Dorsey, no one had a high public profile. When Townsend pushed for a story, Goodwin’s response was direct: “Well, you know who’s really for Eisenhower—Mr. Woodruff and Bobby Jones. Get them and you’ve got a story.”2 Mr. Woodruff was Robert Woodruff, president of the Coca-Cola Company and a national figure. Bobby Jones, an Atlanta attorney, was better known as the best amateur golfer of his day. Jones had retired from tournament play in 1930 after becoming the only player to win what was then golf’s grand slam: the British Amateur, the British Open, the U.S. Amateur, and the U.S. Open. Townsend did not know either of them personally, but he shared space with an attorney who knew Woodruff well enough to have his private number. His colleague agreed to get Woodruff on the phone. Woodruff had a reputation for being extremely difficult to work for; to Townsend he was simply rude. Woodruff made it clear that he did not appreciate being called by a stranger. “No,” he told Townsend, “don’t use my name.” Townsend was demoralized. After that tongue-lashing, it was hard to pick up the phone and make another call, but he did. Bobby Jones could not have been more gracious. He listened to Townsend’s explanation for the call and then made a simple request. “Can you give me twenty-four hours?” he asked. Townsend was beside himself with excitement. He knew that Bobby [3.145.201.71] Project MUSE (2024-04-24...

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