Note 70 — Chapter Forty-one

The night of his (David’s) election to second term (the most overwhelming landslide in the history of our country), he and Dora spent the larger part of that exciting evening quietly in my brother’s private study, viewing the street scenes of New York, Chicago and Denver through the television. Henry and Henriette, Winslow and I, and Stevey’s eldest daughter, the Senator, had flown over to New York to see the returns come in at Phil’s, who was bedridden at the time, with a broken leg, at his home in Upper Level, Park Avenue. We were all invited, however, upon our return from New York that midnight, to join Dora and David at a late snack of supper.

While wires hummed and buzzed around us, and messages the world over were pouring in, there we sat cozily sealed against it all, watching scenes in Nome, Alaska, and Bangor, Maine, through the television, and talking among ourselves. It was over corned-beef and cole-slaw, personally prepared by Dora, that my brother practically thought aloud, Henry taking it down shorthand and interpolating here and there, the first draft of an idea long discussed with Henry and which was beginning to take concrete shape in his mind.

It was his Superstate World-policy, which needs no explanation here.