America 1929: John F. Kennedy, the Great Writer

Chapter 111 LaGuardia's Ambition

In Elizabeth's living room, the fire in the fireplace was burning brightly.

On the round table in the center were black tea and several plates of snacks, next to a stack of freshly printed newspapers that still smelled of ink.

Elizabeth Harrison was greeting the arriving guests in the living room.

John D. Rockefeller Jr. was the representative of the Rockefeller family. He was dressed in a low-key dark suit. He shook hands with Elizabeth as he entered and sat down in a chair near the fireplace.

The Morgan family sent Pierpont's assistant, who immediately apologized upon entering: "The gentleman asked me to tell you that he is not feeling well tonight, but he said that this place is more worthy of his sending someone than the Plaza Hotel."

Elizabeth nodded to the assistant, gesturing for him to sit down.

LaGuardia was the last to enter.

Fiorello Laguardia is 47 years old, not very tall, with a round face, and wearing a black soft hat.

Elizabeth greeted him warmly: "Fiorello, you've come."

As a member of a Republican political family, Elizabeth had a long-standing relationship with this rising star within the party.

LaGuardia said, "Ms. Elizabeth, I was in my office in Congress when I received the message."

I took the earliest train back.

He sat down at the table, picked up the newspaper, glanced at the headline, his lips twitched slightly, and he said, "This Kennedy, I've noticed him for a while now. He's a real talent."

Elizabeth said, "He'll be here tonight too."

Laguardia looked up at Elizabeth: "Okay. I'm looking forward to it."

Arthur arrived at 8:30 p.m.

When Arthur walked into the room, everyone looked up.

Elizabeth gestured for Arthur to sit down and introduced him to the guests present.

-

John D. Rockefeller Jr. put down his newspaper, looked at Arthur, and said in a friendly manner, "Mr. Kennedy, I read your 'Animal Farm' three times today. It's very well written. However, I think the story is still missing an ending."

Arthur asked, "What's the ending?"

Little John said, "How did those animals eventually manage to drive the pigs off the farm?"

The room fell silent for a moment.

LaGuardia then spoke up: "Elections. Driving pigs off the farm is done through votes."

He looked at Arthur and said, "Mr. Kennedy, I've read all your articles. From the first one, 'Van Dyke's Stock Market,' to this pig today, I've read them very carefully. Do you know what you've accomplished?"

Arthur looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

LaGuardia continued, "You've made ordinary people in New York realize for the first time that the corruption they've witnessed isn't normal, isn't something to be taken for granted, and isn't something that can't be changed. That's difficult."

"Just a few days ago, at a workers' gathering in East Harlem, a dockworker stood up and recited a passage from your article. After he finished, he asked the person next to him, 'Why do we keep electing those pigs?'"

Arthur said, "Mr. Councilor, it seems you're here tonight for more than just reading."

LaGuardia chuckled. "You're very direct. Yes. I'm not just here to study."

"Walker still has more than two years left in his mayoral term. But the Sebry Commission is already making moves, Roosevelt is watching from Albany, Dilla is in jail, and Hearst already has the newspapers in New York. At this point, New York needs someone to stand up and tell the citizens that there will be a real choice in the next election."

Elizabeth and John D. Rockefeller Jr. looked at the two men without saying a word.

Arthur looked at LaGuardia and said, "Have you made up your mind?"

LaGuardia said, "I've thought about this for a long time. What I lack isn't determination, but timing, public opinion, and the ability to convince those who struggle to make a living every day that corruption must be punished."

He pointed to the two articles on the table and said, “You gave me the opportunity. Those people wearing rabbit badges, those people standing in front of the police station, those people who bought the New York Herald and then passed it around to their neighbors—you turned their anger into a visible force.”

"Mr. Kennedy, I need your newspaper to be on my side. Not to wave my flag and cheer for me, not to campaign for me. What I need is for you to continue doing what you're doing, to continue telling New Yorkers what's wrong with this city, and what this city should be like."

Arthur did not answer immediately.

He looked at Laguardia and pondered for a moment.

He thought of the dockworkers, and those who stood in the cold wind outside the police station.

Then Arthur said, "Mr. Senator, my newspaper reports the facts. If the facts are in your favor, that's fine. If the facts are against you, I will still write them."

LaGuardia nodded and said, "I know. That's exactly the kind of newspaper I need."

John D. Rockefeller Jr. then spoke up: "Mr. Kennedy, you asked a question at the Plaza Hotel entrance today. If a charity ball requires the IRS and the fire department to guarantee attendance, then who is this charity for?"

"I'd like to add another question after yours. If a city needs to maintain a semblance of order through extortion, then whose city is it, really?"

He turned to LaGuardia and said, "Fiorello, we've talked about this many times. The Rockefeller family will support a clean New York. You know what to do."

LaGuardia looked at him and said, "I know. Thank you, John."

The two did not shake hands, but something was already determined at that moment.

Arthur sat to the side, watching everything unfold.

He actually had some recollection of LaGuardia, because the airport in Queens was later named after him.

It is said that this is because he became one of the most beloved mayors in New York history.

Although he doesn't believe that votes can bring a good future, LaGuardia seems to be trustworthy.

In this room by the fireplace, the course of history is being quietly pushed by a few people.

At 11 p.m., everyone took their leave.

LaGuardia was the last to leave.

He stood side by side with Arthur at the door for a while, waiting for his driver to bring the car over.

The night wind was cold, blowing from Fifth Avenue and making their coats flutter loudly.

LaGuardia asked, "Mr. Kennedy, where are you from?"

Arthur said, "Scranton, Pennsylvania."

LaGuardia nodded, looking at the dark street ahead, and said, "I grew up in East Harlem, an Italian immigrant community in Manhattan, and I know what those workers live like every day."

"So I can't lose."

-

A car drove up and stopped at the entrance.

LaGuardia opened the car door, turned around, and said to Arthur, "If you believe me, I will write the ending of that farm story."

Arthur smiled but did not respond, watching Laguardia walk away.