Ticker tape drifted over Broadway in vast, swirling clots. All the way to City Hall it sifted onto the block-deep mob that surged past police barricades, shoved between cars of the motorcade, slowed the parade to a hesitant crawl. Atop the back seat of an open convertible rode Jack Kennedy, grinning, waving, reaching out to touch one after another of the forest of hands; Wife Jackie sat beside him in white coat, hat. gloves and wide-eyed wonder at the crush ("It felt like the sides of the car were bending"). Even Mayor Robert Wagner, whose good Democratic organization had helped...
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