'48 spotlight was on Phila.

By John P. Rossi

The news that Philadelphia will host the 2016 Democratic convention brings back memories of 1948, the last time the party met in the City of Brotherly Love. But the gathering was no love fest, and Philadelphia was a far different place seven decades ago.

The Democrats came to a city still controlled by a complacent Republican machine that was showing signs of decrepitude. The mayor at the time was Bernard Samuel - everyone called him Barney - an amiable South Philadelphia rowhouse pol with a face like a basset hound. He was a front man for the Republican organization, then largely controlled by city Sheriff Austin "Aus" Meehan. Neither had anything to do with the Democrats' convention choice. That effort was led by a group of civic-minded businessmen who wanted to show what Philadelphians were capable of. They pledged $250,000 to both parties as a way of luring them to the city.

The two conventions were groundbreaking in one sense: They were the first to be televised. NBC and CBS brought their primitive apparatus into the convention, setting a standard that endures today. True, their reach was limited to just 13 Eastern states. But it was exciting to see all the famous political figures of the day "live and in person."

The Republicans arrived in June and after a few minor scuffles nominated what looked like the winning ticket: two young and popular governors of major states, Tom Dewey of New York and Earl Warren of California. The Republicans had swept the Democrats out of power in Congress in 1946, and everyone expected them to win the presidency. The two major polling organizations, Roper and Gallup, endorsed that view.

A month later, a divided Democratic Party arrived in a heat wave. In December, left-wing Democrats had bolted the party and nominated former Vice President Henry Wallace for president as a newly formed Progressive Party. The loss of some of the party's most liberal members was followed by news that many Southern Democrats were unhappy with the party's record on civil rights.

The Democratic delegates were an unhappy lot. The party leaders had tried to dump President Harry S. Truman and appealed to Gen. Dwight Eisenhower to accept the nomination. Eisenhower, who had already turned down the Republicans, did the same to the Democrats.

The Democrats met in Convention Hall, which was not air-conditioned. For three days and nights, delegates sweltered while 60 large fans tried with limited success to keep temperatures and tempers down. More than a hundred people had to be treated for heat prostration.

The Democrats were not thrilled with Philadelphia. There was insufficient hotel space, and those who found rooms were gouged by hotel owners. Some delegates stayed in Atlantic City to avoiding the outrageous prices.

The convention was a rowdy affair. Southern delegates were in revolt almost from the first. Hubert Humphrey, then mayor of Minneapolis, electrified the convention with a rousing speech denouncing Southern racism. It was time, he shouted (no one speaks naturally at a political convention), for the Democratic Party "to get out of the shadow of states' rights and walk forthrightly into the bright sunshine of human rights." The speech would help him win a Senate seat that November.

When the convention endorsed a strong civil rights plank, Alabama and Mississippi delegates led Southerners out of the hall. They would later create a States' Rights Party and nominate J. Strom Thurmond for president. Thurmond would win 39 electoral votes, the first time the Solid South had broken away from the Democrats since the Civil War.

Democrats nominated Truman for president and Sen. Alben Barkley of Kentucky for vice president. Despite a rousing acceptance speech by Truman, the beginning of his "Give 'em hell!" orations, Democrats left Philadelphia listless, facing defeat. We all know what happened. In one of the greatest upsets in American political history, Truman ripped into an overconfident Republican Party and won a narrow victory by a little more than two million votes.

Philadelphia didn't shine in the national spotlight. It was run-down and had a tired, even seedy look. Delegates complained about the heat, the poor quality of the restaurants, and the awful taste of the water. The city was in desperate need of civic improvements, with nothing of consequence done since the late 1920s.

Republican bosses were at a loss as to what to do next, and soon the city's leadership was passing from their hands to the business community, which had lost faith in the GOP's leaders and was beginning to turn to reform-minded Democrats like Joe Clark and Richardson Dilworth.

The 1948 convention was the city Republican Party's last chance to show some dynamism, and it had failed. It would take a half-century before a major political convention was held in the city again - the successful Republican gathering in 2000.