Hot Time in the Old Town - Edward Kohn [106]
A short while later, McCoy continued, “My head began to throb, and it seemed just as though it would burst. My tongue got heavier. A feeling of exhaustion gradually passed over my whole body, and I grew weaker and warmer.” At this point McCoy was on the verge of collapse, already suffering from heat exhaustion. Although still conscious, he was clearly in a state of advanced dehydration, with his body temperature rising rapidly. “Suddenly I felt my skin cracking on my skull. I thought a thousand pounds had dropped right on the top of my head and then a wave of terrible heat swept over me, and I put my arm out to steady myself.” At this point McCoy lost consciousness. “The next thing I knew I was here in the hospital, and they were taking me out of a cold bath. They put me in at 2:05 P.M., and took me out at 3:30. Since then I have been very weak and the shock has dulled my head a little.” One and a half hours in an ice bath was a long time, indicating how elevated McCoy’s temperature must have been when he succumbed. Although his temperature returned to normal, such a severe case of hyperthermia may have left McCoy with permanent damage to the heart or other organs. Three days after his collapse, McCoy was still not well enough to return home.
WITH A CARRIAGE waiting at the curb to take his party to the station, Bryan seized a last opportunity to speak to reporters. In a nice bit of diplomacy, he shook each reporter’s hand warmly and gave him a campaign button with the candidate’s picture. The reporters present were some of the men who had fiercely criticized and mocked him. They had portrayed the Madison Square Garden speech in the most negative manner, spreading word of its failure across the nation. They had lampooned the candidate throughout his New York stay, helping halt the momentum Bryan had built from the Chicago convention and his eastward train journey. Now he said he had been kindly treated by the reporters “personally,” placing a small stress on the word. “The press of your city is against me, of course,” he said, “but you boys have treated me very nicely.”
Then Bryan gave his last speech before leaving New York:
There are two things I want to say. One is that before I came here the New York papers frequently called me an anarchist. I do not believe any of them has called me an anarchist since I came. The other thing is that they speak of me as the “Boy Orator.” If I am elected no other young man in politics will be ridiculed for his youth. There are a great many boys in the country, and I am glad I am young.
I wanted very much to have the opportunity of seeing something of the people of New York. I wanted to meet them and shake hands with them, but my time here has been consumed entirely by campaign work. There was a great deal to be done, and little time for doing it, and I had to work. I hope, however, that I shall yet have an opportunity for seeing your people and talking to them face to face and as man to man.
It was an odd little speech. There was no mention of the Madison Square Garden meeting, although perhaps by that morning there was nothing more to say. Instead Bryan claimed a strange sort of victory in that no New Yorker continued to label him an anarchist—a pyrrhic victory, indeed, if this was the sole result of his New York trip. “I am glad I am young” seemed a trivial observation from the author of “Cross of Gold.” Claiming that he had no opportunity to meet New Yorkers after a four-day stay in the city only underscored Bryan’s isolation since arriving in the city. In America’s largest metropolis, how could the Democratic presidential candidate have failed to come into contact with its citizens? Finally, characterizing New Yorkers as “your people” was little better than calling the city “enemy’s territory.” It was as if Bryan had stumbled on some alien culture, forcing him to communicate with hand gestures and pantomime.
No one bade farewell to the Bryans at the St. John home, and no one even greeted them at the New York Central Railroad Station, where