Washington had been hot and steamy. But ever since morning the Presidential C-54 had bored steadily westward. Now, off in the cool Northwest evening, Harry Truman could see the dark green of fir forests, the snowy, glacier-scarred bulk of Mount Rainier. When the plane landed at McChord Field, his old Senate friend, Washington's Governor Mon Wallgren, was waiting. Together they drove to the lawn-bordered red brick governor's mansion at Olympia. Then, for five days, Harry Truman forgot the cares of office.
Rummaging in the Governor's closet, he appropriated a battered hat, an...
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