NICHI-NICHI: …incontrovertibly prove divine descent…
LA PRENSA: …oil concessions… dollar diplomacy…
DETROIT JOURNAL: …under our noses in a sinister fortress on East Warren… under close Federal supervision… perfection by our production-trained technicians a mighty aid to law-enforcement agencies… tirades against politicians and business common sense carried too far… tomorrow revelations by…
L’OSSERVATORE ROMANO: Council of Cardinals… announcement expected hourly…
JACKSON STAR-CLARION: …proper handling will prove the fallacy of race equality…
Almost unanimously the press screamed; Pegler frothed, Win-chell leered. We got the surface side of the situation from the press. But a military guard is composed of individuals, hotel rooms must be swept by maids, waiters must serve food, and a chain is as strong— We got what we think the truth from those who work for a living.
There are meetings on street corners and homes, two great veterans’ groups have arbitrarily fired their officials, seven governors have resigned, three senators and over a dozen representatives have retired with “ill health,” and the general temper is ugly. International travelers report the same of Europe, Asia is bubbling, and transport planes with motors running stud the airports of South America. A general whisper is that a Constitutional Amendment is being rammed through to forbid the use of any similar instrument by any individual, with the manufacture and leasing by the Federal government to law-enforcement agencies or financially-responsible corporations suggested; it is whispered that motor caravans are forming throughout the country for a Washington march to demand a decision by the Court on the truth of our charges; it is generally suspected that all news disseminating services are under direct Federal—Army control; wires are supposed to be sizzling with petitions and demands to Congress, which are seldom delivered.
One day the chambermaid said: “And the whole hotel might as well close up shop. The whole floor is blocked off, there’re MP’s at every door, and they’re clearing out all the other guests as fast as they can be moved. The whole place wouldn’t be big enough to hold the letters and wires addressed to you, or the ones that are trying to get in to see you. Fat chance they have,” she added grimly. “The joint is lousy with brass.”
Mike glanced at me and I cleared my throat. “What’s your idea of the whole thing?”
Expertly she spanked and reversed a pillow. “I saw your last picture before they shut it down. I saw all your pictures. When I wasn’t working I listened to your trial. I heard you tell them off. I never got married because my boy friend never came back from Burma. Ask him what he thinks,” and she jerked her head at the young private that was supposed to keep her from talking. “Ask him if he wants some bunch of stinkers to start him shooting at some other poor chump. See what he says, and then ask me if I want an atom bomb dropped down my neck just because some chiselers want more than they got.” She left suddenly, and the soldier left with her. Mike and I had a beer and went to bed. Next week the papers had headlines a mile high.