Skip to main content

Would you vote for a man with a hole in his shoe?

 In 1952, following President Truman’s decision not to seek another term in office, there was an open seat for the presidency, and it was hotly contested.  The campaign of General Dwight Eisenhower, the Republican nominee, was doing well at defining the Democratic nominee, Illinois Governor Adlai Stevenson II.  Stevenson came from a wealthy background and had the air of an intellectual—and he was one.  Eisenhower’s allies in politics and the press exploited this, since intellectuals rarely fare well in American politics.  They dubbed him “Egghead”, taking the positive of intellect and turning it into a negative, with the added benefit of making fun of the governor’s baldness.  Eisenhower himself didn’t have much hair, either, but somehow such superficial attacks didn’t stick to the popular general.


On Labor Day, with two months to go in the presidential election, Stevenson had some unexpected luck.  While preparing for a speech in Flint, Michigan, photographer Bill Gallagher, who had a reputation for snapping pictures with a comedic flare to them, noticed Governor Stevenson had a hole in his shoe when he crossed his legs.  Gallagher disconnected the flash bulb from his camera so he wouldn’t attract too much attention to himself and he captured the governor, and his sole, and its hole.


Adlai Stevenson and the shoe that rocked the 1952 campaign.


Stevenson briefly glanced over at Gallagher when he heard the camera snap, and then went back to work, unaware that one of America’s most infamous political photographs had just been taken.  The photo of Stevenson and his shoe was a sensation, probably interesting because it clashed with the governor’s cultivated reputation.  His campaign knew it had something, and used this to promote the candidate as a hard-working man of the people.  While campaigning, Stevenson was typically well dressed, presumably with the intent to make a good impression on voters, but that wasn’t his style.  As the New York Times described Stevenson’s attire in their obituary for him on July 15, 1965,


“Mr. Stevenson, although he dressed well, was not happy as a fashion plate. As Governor of Illinois he preferred to work in his office in a brown tweed sports jacket, odd trousers and a striped shirt. His favorite footgear then was a pair of old golf shoes with the spikes removed.


His predilection for informal attire was not only a matter of personal comfort, but also an expression of the fact that, although he was well-to-do, he was not a conspicuous spender.”


The Stevenson campaign adopted the shoe with a hole in it as a campaign symbol.  Stevenson himself, famous for his witty one-liners, said, “Better a hole in the shoe than a hole in the head.”  The campaign handed out pins in the shape of shoes, with a visible hole in the sole.


A hole-in-the-sole pin from the 1952 campaign


Stevenson didn’t win in 1952, nor did he win when he ran again in 1956, and lost to Eisenhower again.  He tried to win the Democratic nomination a third time in 1960, but was defeated by John F. Kennedy, who went on to get elected president that year.  Despite these losses, Stevenson was not bitter, and in his concession speech urged his supporters to “be of good cheer”.  After losing the nomination to Kennedy, Stevenson took the post of the United States’ Ambassador to the United Nations, where he worked for the last five years of his life.


For years, pundits would wonder aloud, “Can a divorced man ever win the presidency?”  Stevenson and his wife had divorced in 1949, though this was never used very much against him in his campaigns.  (Had the campaigns against Eisenhower been closer, who knows if they would have gone there?)  This question was academic until 1980, when Gov. Ronald Reagan (R-CA) became the first divorcé to be elected president.  The only other divorced presidential nominees have been Sen. John Kerry (D-MA) in 2004 and TV star Donald Trump (R-NY) in 2016.  Divorce doesn’t hold the same social stigma it once did, so it’s unlikely it will harm or be much remarked on in future elections.  Stevenson himself never remarried.  With his career as demanding as it was, he probably didn’t even find time to date.  As Stevenson himself once remarked, “Via ovacipitum dura est,” which is Latin for, “The way of the egghead is hard.”


I’ll leave you with a couple of campaign ads from the 1952 election.  The first one is for Stevenson, a jazzy pop song sung by a cute singer.  Note how she gives a little wink to the camera at around the 20-second mark.  Also note the first line of the song: “I’d rather have a man with a hole in his shoe than a hole in everything he says.”  That shoe business was a big deal.


"I Love the Guv" ad for Stevenson, 1952


For balance, here’s an Eisenhower ad from that same campaign.  The Eisenhower campaign had a better grasp on how to use television to its advantage than Stevenson’s did.  This ad might seem hokey today, but it was very much in step with what you’d see in TV commercials those days. A jingle like this might be used to sell soap or cigarettes or any other commercial product you’d see advertised on TV.


"I Like Ike" ad from 1952




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How the Lemon was Invented

Lemons How do you make a lemon?  Silly question, isn’t it?  You just take the seeds out of one and plant them, and wait for the tree to come up, right?  That’s true, but it hasn’t always been that easy.  Lemons today are a widely cultivated citrus fruit, with a flavor used in cuisines of countries where no lemon tree would ever grow.  You might think that it was just a matter of ancient peoples finding the trees, enjoying their fruit and growing more of them, but that’s not true.  The lemon is a human invention that’s maybe only a few thousand years old. The first lemons came from East Asia, possibly southern China or Burma.  (These days, some prefer to refer to Burma as Myanmar .  I’ll try to stay out of that controversy here and stick to fruit.)  The exact date of the lemon’s first cultivation is not known, but scientists figure it’s been around for more than 4,000 years.  The lemon is a cross breed of several fruits.  One f...

Origins of the Word Hoser, eh?

Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas as cultural icons Bob and Doug McKenzie These days we often hear Canadians referred to as “Hosers”.  It’s a strange word, and it sounds a little insulting, but it’s sometimes used more with affection than malice.  Any such word is difficult to use correctly, especially if you don’t belong to the group the word describes.   I can’t say I feel comfortable throwing the word around, myself, but I can offer a little information about it that might shed some light on what it means. First off: is it an insult?  Yes… and no.   The word hoser can be used as an insult or as a term of endearment; the variation hosehead , is certainly an insult.  It’s a mild insult, meaning something like jerk or idiot or loser .  Its origin is unclear, and there are several debatable etymologies of the word.  One claims that it comes from the days before the zamboni was invented, when the losing team of an outdoor ice hockey game...

The Whoopie Cap

What can you do with your father’s old hats?  If you were born after, say, 1955, the answer is probably “Not much.”  Men were still wearing fedoras in the 1970s and 1980s, but by 1990, fashion had turned to the point where unless you were Indiana Jones, the hat didn’t look right.  Some blame Jack Kennedy for starting it all, strutting around perfectly coiffed and bare-headed in the early 1960s.  In 1953, Harry Truman, a haberdasher by trade, stepped out of office, and just eight years later we had a president who didn’t care for hats?  The times, they were a-changin’. If you set the WABAC machine to the 1920s or 1930s (when Indiana Jones was supposed to have lived), you would see the fedora was still very much in style.  Men just didn’t leave the house without a hat of some kind, and for what remained of the middle class, the fedora was the topper of choice.  But like any other piece of clothing, hats wear out, too.  When that happened, you’d ju...