His valedictory speech began with a nod to Don Drysdale, the Los Angeles Dodgers ace “who pitched his sixth straight shutout tonight, and I hope that we have as good fortune in our campaign.” (Bobby was one of the few men in America who actually didn’t know who the future Hall of Famer was.) Then he got serious: “I think we can end the divisions within the United States. Legions of restless believers were there singing “This Land Is Your Land,” the Woody Guthrie ballad that Bobby had promised to make America’s anthem. Both were doable, he told himself, as aides pressed him to head down to the ballroom. He still was all of those, but had found a voice and two uncomplicated motivations of his own: to end the war and end poverty. At the start he hadn’t been sure whether he was running as Joe Kennedy’s son, Jack’s brother, or President Lyndon Johnson’s avowed enemy. Sitting on the floor of his hotel room, arms around his knees, he lit a victory cigar and contemplated. “I’m going to chase Herbert’s ass all over the country,” Bobby vowed.īefore he went anywhere, Bobby took a quiet moment. The only one who could deny him the nomination was Vice President Hubert Humphrey, or, as the comedian and mock presidential candidate Pat Paulsen had dubbed him earlier that evening, Herbert Humphrey. But he knew the threat was over from McCarthy, whose defining and sole issue was opposing the Vietnam War. Nobody, least of all Bobby, minimized the obstacles remaining. The candidate would head overseas next, showing his gravitas by meeting with the Pope and foreign leaders. A full-page ad in The New York Times would feature photos of AFL-CIO boss George Meany and segregationist Governor Lester Maddox of Georgia - both staunchly anti-Bobby - asking rhetorically whether insiders like them should be allowed to pick the next president. There’d be a single-minded press in his adopted state of New York. Battle plans were being charted that very night for the campaign ahead. The dream - “make room for the next leader of the free world,” he’d tease as he sprinted from hotel showers wrapped in a towel - seemed less distant following the win in California and another that day in South Dakota. 7, 1965.įor the first time since he’d jumped in late to the race, Bobby believed he could do it.
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