America 1929: John F. Kennedy, the Great Writer

"Mayor...please don't rush."

A voice came from inside the theater, interrupting Walker's threat.

Everyone turned their heads.

The Providence Theatre has only 350 seats, and it's only about 20 meters from the deepest corner to the entrance.

Through the open door, the scene in the first row can be clearly seen.

Roosevelt turned around and looked at Walker in the doorway. He still had a smile on his face, but his eyes showed undisguised contempt.

Roosevelt slowly began to speak:

"I want to remind you that using executive power to retaliate against legitimate private businesses is an abuse of power. As governor, I have an obligation to investigate any such actions."

After saying this, Roosevelt turned around and faced the stage again, as if he had just said something insignificant.

But the weight of those words pressed down on Walker's heart, making it hard for him to breathe.

Walker suddenly realized he had made a fatal mistake.

He openly threatened to abuse his power in front of the governor and dozens of reporters.

This is not a mistake, it's political suicide.

Walker opened his mouth, as if to say something, but couldn't utter a word.

His mind went blank; all the witty remarks he could usually make and the jokes that made voters laugh had vanished.

Sweat began to bead on his forehead. He could feel the reporters around him excitedly recording everything, and he could vaguely hear someone saying:

"He's getting anxious, he's getting anxious."

By this time, Roosevelt had already turned his head away and continued watching the performance.

The stage was just reaching its final climax.

Mayor Haque stood in front of a pile of rubble.

Humphrey stood beside him, holding a prepared speech, and said:

"Mr. Mayor, the media and the public are waiting for your response regarding the rising unemployment rate and the delayed disbursement of relief funds."

Mayor Haque looked at the questions and remained silent for a long time.

The audience held their breath, waiting for his reaction.

Then, Mayor Haque looked up and a bright smile appeared on his face.

"Humphrey, prepare for the press conference."

Humphrey asked in shock, "Mr. Mayor, are you going to admit to these problems?"

Mayor Harker's smile grew even brighter:

"Admit it? Why should we admit it? What I want to do is make them forget these issues."

He walked to the front of the stage as if it were the venue for a press conference.

He adjusted his tie, cleared his throat, and instantly transformed from an anxious manager into a confident leader.

Mayor Harker's voice was full of passion and had a power that could inspire people:

"Fellow citizens and journalists, I know that there have been many negative voices recently. Some say our city is facing difficulties, and some say our government is inefficient."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the imagined audience, giving each person the illusion of being noticed.

In 1896, William Jennings Bryan delivered his famous "Golden Cross" speech at the Democratic National Convention, captivating the entire audience with his passionate rhetoric and religious fervor.

That speech is considered one of the most successful inflammatory speeches in American political history.

Since then, many politicians have tried to imitate that style.

However, most of them only use flowery language and empty promises to cover up the real problems.

Mayor Haque clearly understands this well.

His voice grew louder and louder, and his gestures became more and more exaggerated:

"But I want to tell you, all of this is temporary! Ames City, our great Ames City, is standing at a turning point in history!"

"Yes, we have unemployed people. But this is not a failure, it's a transition! Our economy is shifting from an old model to a new one, and some growing pains are perfectly normal in this process!"

Some audience members began to voice their dissatisfaction, but Mayor Haque turned a deaf ear.

"Yes, our relief payments have been a little slow. But that's a responsible thing to do! We want to make sure every penny goes to those who truly need it, and isn't swindled by speculators!"

The boos from the audience grew louder and louder. But Mayor Hack seemed deaf to them, absorbed in his performance, continuing to speak in that impassioned tone:

"I assure you, Ames will have a brighter future! We will create more jobs, we will build more public facilities, and we will make this city the greatest in the world!"

"Prosperity is just around the corner! Hope is at hand! As long as we unite as one, as long as we believe in the future, Ames City will surely regain its glory!"

"So I beg you, give me time, give our government time. Don't let those malicious critics blind you. They don't love this city, they just want to create chaos!"

Mayor Harker opened his arms in a hugging gesture, a bright smile on his face:

"And I, your mayor, the mayor you elected, will lead you to a bright future!"

Under the spotlight, he looked like a savior.

Then, the lights went out.

The stage went dark, with only a spotlight shining on Humphrey.

He held a document in his hand and read aloud:

"The mayor's approval rating has risen by three percentage points."

The curtain slowly fell.

……

The theater was initially deathly silent.

A moment later, applause erupted.

Everyone understood the meaning of that scene on stage.

Mayor Haque has not solved any problems.

He simply used flowery language, empty promises, and inflammatory speeches to cover up all the problems.

Even more alarming, his approval rating actually rose by three percentage points.

Those weary, hungry, and desperate people will still applaud such speeches and will still vote for him in the next election.

It's not because they're stupid, but because they need hope.

In desperation, people will grasp at anything that seems like a lifeline.

Roosevelt clapped enthusiastically from the front row.

He turned to George Bernard Shaw and whispered something to him. Shaw nodded in agreement, a satisfied smile on his face.

……

Walker heard applause outside the door.

He knew that the performance was over and he hadn't been able to go in yet, thus missing his last chance for the day.

If he were inside, he could say a few nice words when the event ended, appearing magnanimous and composed. But now, he can only stand outside the door, like an intruder who has been refused entry.

Dila reminded her:

"Jimmy, the reporter is still waiting for a response."

Walker snapped out of his daze and turned around. He looked at the reporters, his signature smile returning to his face.

"What I'm saying is that Mr. Kennedy has the right to create whatever he wants to create, and the citizens have the right to enjoy whatever performance they want to enjoy. This is America, this is freedom."

He paused for a moment, then added:

"Today's tickets are all sold out, which shows that Mr. Kennedy's work is very popular, which is a good thing. I'm happy for him."

The reporters took notes quickly.

Walker knew these words would appear in tomorrow's newspapers, but so would his humiliating rejection and his threatening demeanor towards the theater owners.

Walker turned and got into the car. The door closed, shutting out the noise from outside.

The car started and drove away from the crowd.

Through the car window, Walker saw homeless people on the street, closed shops, and crowds queuing for relief.

I also saw the lights of Manhattan.

But for Jimmy Walker, those lights were already beginning to dim.