Days before the convention opened, the squire from Libertyville took up his pencil and began to scribble out a draft of his acceptance address. He got scores of unsolicited suggestions and memos. After reading them, he tossed them aside and continued on his own. All last week, even during intervals in the hectic Truman crisis, he returned time and again to the isolation of his small, green-tinted law office on Chicago's South La Salle Street. There, shirt-sleeved and with tie askew, he revised, updated, rephrased and polished. On the convention's last night Adlai Stevenson stood up before the Democratic delegates...
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