Standing in the Rainbow

Carnie Boofer and the rest of the candidates ignored her at first but as time went by Carnie could not resist taking a swipe at her. In his first paid-for television address he ended up by saying, “As far as the little lady that is running, first of all, let me say that most of us respect our females and do not question their abilities but who of us here would feel right about letting our wives or daughters be subjected to the rough-and-tumble world of politics? This is a world where tough decisions have to be made every day. I am sure Mrs. Sparks is a lovely lady but having said that, I must point out the fact that an ex–gospel singer and one-time cafeteria worker with barely a high school education is sorely ill-equipped to run a state. Mrs. Sparks needs to be home, where she belongs, looking after her children and leave the business of politics to the men. After all, it was the men that fought for our independence in this country. There was no such thing as founding mothers, only founding fathers. There were no minutewomen, just minutemen. Betsy Ross stayed home and sewed the flag. I suggest that instead of politics, Mrs. Sparks take up knitting and I’ll make a deal with her—if she won’t run, I won’t knit.”

Boofer got a lot of laughs. But not from the women.

In fact, it made Neighbor Dorothy mad—mad as she ever got, which could better be described as highly irritated. After his speech, she turned to Mother Smith and said, “He makes me tired.”

Mother Smith said, “He makes me more than that. If I had a gun, I’d shoot him.”

For Dorothy, having read so many unkind things said about Betty Raye by the other candidates, the Carnie Boofer speech was the last straw. The next morning, after her “nine out of ten movie stars use Lux Soap” commercial, she broke with all convention and went out on a limb.

“You know, we never delve into controversy here on our show but darn it all and please excuse my French over the radio, but I just have to say something this morning. I, for one, am tired of some men, and you know who they are, going on and on about how a woman should not do anything more than stay in the home and take care of their family. Now, you know I am not against that. I am a homemaker myself. But these men have got to realize that times have changed.” Mother Smith broke into a rousing rendition of “How You Gonna Keep ’Em Down on the Farm After They’ve Seen Paree.” “That’s right, Mother Smith, and the same holds true for the women. Men have got to realize that they did not win the war all by themselves, for heaven’s sake. During the war we all worked in factories, ran the trains, drove the buses, joined the army, did everything the men did. Our own Ada Goodnight flew planes. But when it was over the men came home and wanted everything to go back to the way it was. We understood that, but once people find out they can do a thing and like to do things, it’s not right to tell them they can’t. We are supposed to be about playing fair in this country and that doesn’t seem fair to me. And if you agree, I think we need to let them know how we feel, don’t you? Well, enough of me ranting and raving on and on but like Mother Smith says, women fought too long and too hard to get the vote to be told they shouldn’t vote for one of our own. Now, we don’t believe in throwing brickbats at the other fellow but we can make a stand on Election Day, as far as I’m concerned. I don’t think it’s right to attack somebody just because she’s a woman. As you all may know, we were lucky enough to have Betty Raye stay with us and let me tell you this—anybody that could get Bobby Smith to read thirty-four books in one summer can certainly run a state! And that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

That is all she had to say. In truth, not many women had been interested in politics until Neighbor Dorothy’s call to arms, but the day after her broadcast letters began pouring into the Democratic headquarters, complaining about Carnie Boofer. The politicians had crossed the wrong bunch this time. They had hit a big, mad hornets’ nest with a rock and shortly both the Democrats and the Republicans were running for their lives.

Since The Neighbor Dorothy Show was heard statewide, all the other candidates, including the Carnie Boofer supporters, immediately organized a call in protest to the offices of the Golden Flake Flour Company, asking them to take her off the air. But Jack Mann, president of the company, did what his eighty-two-year-old mother, Mrs. Suzanne Mann, owner and chairman of the board, told him to do, and that was nothing. She was sweetly reasonable. “You’ll take Dorothy off the air over my dead body,” she said.

Along with her thousands of other listeners, when Norma’s mother, Ida Jenkins, heard Dorothy’s show she puffed up like a white-breasted pouter pigeon and said, “Oh, woe to you, Mr. Carnie Boofer. You have crossed the wrong woman this time.” As president of the Federated Women’s Club of Missouri, past president of three garden clubs, and a top Presbyterian, Ida had a lot of clout and she knew how to use it. She alerted all the members of the women’s clubs and garden clubs in the state to write in—and they did, by the sackful.

But perhaps the strongest message was a telegram sent to Missouri Democratic headquarters by one man, whose mother and whose wife, Bess, were faithful Neighbor Dorothy Show listeners. A man with, you might say, a lot of influence with the Democratic Party in the state—and beyond. The telegram simply said:

LET THE LITTLE LADY RUN![BR /]HARRY S. TRUMAN

Earl Finley was in a fit. Not only was Truman on her side, but public sentiment was running higher and higher against them. As he paced the room he ranted at the top of his voice to the men at the table, who sat motionless. “Dammit to hell, they’ve got our asses in a sling. Why? I’ll tell you why. You can’t insult a widow with two kids on television, that’s why. You can’t touch her. If you don’t let her run like a man, you’re a no-good son of a bitch and if you do treat her like a man, you’re a no-good son of a bitch. It’s frigging emotional blackmail,” he said, stopping to pound the table with his fist.

At the end of the day, they had no choice but to dump Carnie Boofer and let the little lady run.

The Rooster May Crow but It’s the Hen That Lays the Egg

Even though Betty Raye was now running on the Democratic ticket again, the public-opinion pollsters’ opinion was that she still had no hope of winning.

Vita had believed that. But when she saw what the response to Dorothy’s show had been, it gave her an idea to do something that had never been done before in the history of the state or in the entire country, for that matter. They would forget trying to convince and beg the men to take her candidacy seriously and go after the women’s vote. It was a slim chance but it was the only one they had. This approach had been an old trick of Hamm’s. Vita would run Betty Raye as the underdog and the more she was attacked for being a woman, the better.

The big push was on and the newspapers and the other candidates pushed back, making the same mistake Carnie Boofer had. Some said she was unqualified.

One man said, “All she has to offer the state is a ‘Kitchen Cabinet.’ ” Once the national press picked it up, as Vita had hoped they would, telegrams for Betty Raye started pouring in from everywhere.

GOOD LUCK. I AM PULLING FOR YOU. —MAMIE EISENHOWER BEST OF LUCK. —PATTY, MAXENE, AND LAVERNE ANDREWS WISHING YOU THE BEST. —MRS. LURLEEN WALLACE BEHIND YOU IN EVERY WAY. —LADY BIRD JOHNSON

But the telegram that absolutely floored Betty Raye was from a Missouri woman, the first movie star she had ever seen, when Anna Lee had taken her to the Elmwood Theater to see Kitty Foyle:

GIVE THEM HELL, KID—GINGER ROGERS

Women started to listen and read what Betty Raye had to say about how if elected she would not only continue her late husband’s policies but implement new ones of her own, of interest to them. She promised to introduce state laws forcing state monies to be spent on facilities for women and girls as well as the males. She talked about the inequities of the women’s salaries compared with the men’s, subjects that they had never heard another candidate speak about, and they liked what they heard. When Ada Goodnight and her sister Bess, who were now traveling around Arizona in their Airstream trailer, read that she was running all by herself and was being attacked, they turned around and headed home to help. Ada knew about the plight of women in a male-dominated world. In 1945, when the male soldiers started coming back home from Europe, she and all the other women pilots that had served as WASPs during the war were unceremoniously told to go home and never received a dime or even thanks from the government. When a WASP friend of hers had been killed flying a mission, the army had refused to pay to send the body back to the family. Ada was more than ready for a fight. When she got back she organized all her lady-pilot pals and they all went up in their counties all over the state and dropped thousands of leaflets, urging women to vote for Betty Raye. Bess organized the entire state’s ladies’ bowling-league teams to get out and roll for Betty Raye. Pretty soon the ladies’ auxiliaries of the Elks, the Moose, and the Lions and members of the Eastern Star got behind her. The wives of the Allis-Chalmers tractor company took out a full-page ad in the farmers’ weekly that went all over the state.

The women of Elmwood Springs jumped in and did their share. Aunt Elner donated fifteen jars of fig preserves to be raffled off at the VFW bingo game. Norma lobbied all the wives of the men in the Missouri Hardware Association, and Ruby Robinson, who was a bigwig in the Registered Nurses of Missouri organization, brought them in as well. They were easy. Having been pushed around by male doctors every day, they knew how it felt to be bullied by men. Dixie Cahill put on an outdoor show downtown called “Tapping for Dollars” that raised quite a bit, mostly to get them to stop tapping, as Ed the barber claimed. Even Poor Tot, who could not afford it, donated a day of beauty care to raise money. Mother Smith called an old college friend of hers, Juliette Low, the founder of the Girl Scouts, and got them on the march. Verbena did not have a lot of money but she did threaten to lock her husband, Merle, out of the house if he said one more word about how a female had no business in politics. That was something she could do at least and it did shut him up.

The widows of the men who had disappeared with Hamm, Mrs. Seymour Gravel and Mrs. Wendell Hewitt, and even the former Mrs. Rodney Tillman, went on the campaign trail to try to help Betty Raye, and Mrs. Ursa Figgs, mother of the late Cecil Figgs, despite being a lifelong Republican, donated a great deal of money to the cause. Money came in from hundreds of pancake suppers and bake sales and a lot of poor farm women just sent in their egg money, but it added up. The men were now threatened and really started to go after Betty Raye with the most vicious attacks yet.

Finally, Minnie Oatman had had enough. She went to the phone on the wall outside the dressing room in Columbus, Mississippi, and dialed.

“Elvis,” she said. “It’s Minnie Oatman.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he said, happy to hear from her. “How are you?”

“Honey, my girl Betty Raye is running for governor of the state of Missouri and they is beating up on her pretty bad. I need you to make a personal appearance at one of her rallies. Could you do that for me?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’d be glad to, just tell me when and where you want me. I’ll be there.”

Elvis loved gospel. Although he made his money on rock and roll, it was still in his heart his favorite. Mrs. Gladys Presley, Elvis’s mother, was Minnie’s biggest fan and he’d grown up hearing the Oatman family and had gone to many of their all-night sings in Memphis when he was a boy. Minnie had always been nice to his mother and his daddy, Vernon. That went a long way with him. He would be there if he had to cancel something else to do it.

If one thing could be said about gospel people, it was that they were loyal, or, as Minnie put it, “When the chips is down, gospel people will stand behind you.” Not only did Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash, and the Carter sisters show up, but every other gospel group in the country came to Missouri at one time or another to help her out. And that went a long way with the voters. As did the hundreds of buckets of free fried chicken at every rally that Bobby Smith, who was now running the entire Fowler Poultry Enterprises, had donated to help out his friend. After all, if it had not been for Betty Raye he would never have gotten out of grammar school.

As her numbers started to rise in the polls, Vita began to worry a little more about Betty Raye’s safety. There were bodyguards, of course, but Hamm had also had a bodyguard and it had not helped save him. But Vita need not have worried. Betty Raye had something Hamm did not: Alberta Peets. Alberta never left Betty Raye’s side for an instant. There was not a man or a group of men alive that could get past her to Betty Raye and live to tell the tale.

As for Betty Raye herself, as time went by she became more confident and sure of herself. She was finally able to speak to groups of people without shaking or dropping her papers. It had happened during one of her campaign stops. Vita knew Betty Raye had turned a corner when, speaking in Clark County, she had remarked to the crowd, “You know, I have a special place in my heart for Clark County. My late husband and I spent our honeymoon a few miles down the road . . . so you might say that Hamm Junior got his start right here.”

Hamm Jr., who was sitting behind her at the time, turned beet red, but she did receive 78 percent of the Clark County vote.

On the morning after the special election, Neighbor Dorothy did her show as usual and at the end, before she signed off, she said, without fanfare, “Well, congratulations to our brand-new governor. We always feel sorry for the other fellow that loses but, as they say, may the best man win. Only from now on we might have to change that old saying to ‘May the best person win.’ This is Neighbor Dorothy with Mother Smith on the organ saying have a nice day and remember . . . you make our days so happy, so do come back and see us again, won’t you?”