THE CONVENTION: Introducing... the McGovern Machine

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to be Tom Eagleton," McGovern told his staff. "Let's put in a call to him." Eagleton is a bright, young (42) Border-state Catholic with a strong liberal record and ties to labor (see page 20). This time there was no hitch. Several days before, Eagleton had told anyone who would listen: "I'm ecstatically available." When McGovern called, he replied: "George, before you change your mind, I accept."

After the untidy fumbling, McGovern's acceptance speech that night might have been reassuring to some members of the party—and might have won him some new sympathizers nationally. The trouble was that most of the nation was already fast asleep by the time he spoke. As the delegates met, another long parliamentary struggle broke out over whether the convention should adopt party reform rules immediately or, as McGovern wished, wait until 1974 in order to avoid undue offense to party regulars who would be displaced by a new, expanded Democratic structure. McGovern prevailed.

Prankish. The delegates maintained an appealing independence, even from their nominee. They insisted on nominating eight candidates for Vice President, including not only Eagleton but also Alaska's Senator Mike Gravel, former Massachusetts Governor Endicott Peabody and Texas State Representative Frances ("Sissy") Farenthold. By the time the roll call finally began, the delegates were in a prankish mood, casting ballots for TV's Archie Bunker, Martha Mitchell and CBS-TV's Roger Mudd. It was, said Mankiewicz, "like the last day of school." Because the clerk misheard a name, one vote was even recorded temporarily for Mao Tse-tung. Finally, in a grace note that brought the convention to its feet cheering, the Alabama delegation cast all of its 37 votes for Eagleton, explaining that had Wallace been the nominee, he would have wanted the right to select his own running mate and McGovern deserved no less. When Eagleton was at last confirmed, it was 1:40 a.m.

Late in the afternoon, Kennedy flew by private jet to Miami Beach. Arriving on the podium after Eagleton's speech, Kennedy drew the convention's first display of unmitigated warmth, a roaring standing ovation. Then, in a powerful speech written by Richard Goodwin, Kennedy delivered an evangelistic plea for unity. He sounded less boyish than he used to, speaking in driving cadences reminiscent of his brothers and somewhat of F.D.R. His rhetoric seemed rotund in comparison to McGovern's prairie tones. "For there is a new wind rising over the land," he said. "In it can be heard many things, promises, anguish, hopes for the future, echoes of the past, and our most cherished prayer, America, America, God shed his grace on thee." In an insistent litany, he invoked the deeds of past Democratic Presidents—Jackson, Wilson, Roosevelt, Kennedy and even Lyndon Johnson.

Then, with a tribute, he brought on George McGovern. For the candidate, it was the end of a long, improbable road, and he savored the moment. "My nomination," he said, "is all the more precious in that it is a gift of the most open political process in all of our political history. It is the sweet harvest of the work of tens of thousands of tireless volunteers, young and old alike ... As Yeats put it, Think where man's glory most begins and ends/ And say my glory

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