For those days of 100-degree heat and soaking humidity, the shirt-sleeved Republican crowd sat and fanned themselves apathetically with newspapers, panamas, 50¢ souvenir programs, hunted vainly for elbow room at an air-cooled bar, gasped uneasily all night on their stove-hot beds. But the heat was really only incidental; the main thing was that the Convention was phenomenally dull.
The big show had cost only one-third ($50,000) of what it cost in 1940. After six days & nights of uneventful horse-trading in a small, ovenlike buff and gilt hotel ballroom, the Resolutions Committee had...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
