FDR - Jean Edward Smith [145]
TWELVE
ALBANY REDUX
Oh, Franklin, Franklin Roosevelt,
Is there something in a name?
When you tire of being Governor,
Will you look for bigger game?
Will you wish for something higher
When at Albany you’re through?
When you weary of the State House
Will the White House beckon you?
—GRIDIRON DINNER DITTY, 1929
WHEN ROOSEVELT TOOK the oath as governor of New York on January 1, 1929, the road to the White House lay open. “It is too early to select the new leader of the Democratic Party or to predict nominations for a date so remote as 1932,” declared The New York Times. “Yet by a most extraordinary combination of qualities, political fortunes and diversified associations, Governor-elect Roosevelt is within reach of the elements of party leadership.”1 The Atlanta Constitution, smitten with the state’s adopted son, said, “It is difficult to convey in cold type the fervor of the devotion of Georgians to Governor-elect Roosevelt.”2
With its forty-five electoral votes (more than three times as many as California), New York was a major player in presidential politics. In the sixteen presidential elections since the Civil War, a New Yorker had led the Democratic ticket eight times.* Add TR and Charles Evans Hughes for the Republicans, and a majority of the post–Civil War nominees had been from New York. Roosevelt and Howe understood the odds. But it would be a mistake to announce too early. When reporters asked FDR about the Roosevelt-in-’32 predictions, he replied emphatically, “I want to step on any talk of that kind with both feet.”3 For a man who was paralyzed it was a peculiar metaphor, but Franklin peppered his conversation with jokes about walking, running, and jumping. One of his favorite expressions was “Funny as a crutch.”
Roosevelt’s first priority was to secure his place as governor. Al Smith had not anticipated losing the presidential race and, after spending eight of the last ten years as governor of the Empire State, suddenly found himself with no place to go. He was reluctant to relinquish his hold on the state government to someone he considered as politically inexperienced as FDR and believed he could call the plays from the sidelines. The fact that Smith had leased a suite at Albany’s DeWitt Clinton Hotel in order to be nearby confirmed for Roosevelt the problem he faced.4
Outwardly, relations between the two men were cordial. “God bless you and keep you, Frank,” said Smith as FDR and Eleanor drove up to the ornate portico of the governor’s mansion on December 31. “We’ve got the home fires burning and you’ll find this a fine place to live.” Roosevelt returned the sentiment, telling Eleanor, “I only wish Al were going to be right here for the next two years. We are certainly going to miss him.”5
But there was considerable tension beneath the surface. In mid-December Smith had called on FDR at East Sixty-fifth Street to discuss the transition. To provide for continuity and to ensure that Roosevelt would not be out of his depth in Albany, the governor suggested that Franklin retain two of Smith’s closest collaborators: the hard-driving Robert Moses as secretary of state and the formidable Belle Moskowitz as his executive secretary, speechwriter, and strategist. The abrasive Moses was an exemplary public servant and an empire builder of great virtuosity. His loyalty to Smith was exceeded only by his loyalty to himself.* Mrs. Moskowitz was even more loyal to Smith. She had handled public relations for him since 1918 and was the den mother of the governor’s Albany circle. “I think [Al] suggested this in completely good faith,” said FDR many years later, “but at the same time with the rather