The Ball Carrier

One Sunday evening, as a February wind knifed across Philadelphia's Chestnut Hill, four members of the new, reform-minded Republican Assembly knocked on the door of William Thacher Longstreth. The four had come to extend an invitation. It was worded to appeal to Longstreth as a former Princeton football star. an advertising executive and a lifelong Republican.

Said the spokesman, referring to the woes of boss-ridden Philadelphia Republicanism: "We're back on our two-yard line, but I think I see a chink of light through the line and a way to go all the way -- 98 yards for a touchdown." The way was for 34-year-old "Thach" Longstreth to carry the Republican ball for mayor against hard-hitting Democratic District Attorney Richardson Dilworth.

Longstreth asked for time to think it over.

Three days later he called the Republican Assembly spokesman and said: "You're on, kid." As a candidate Longstreth had impressive credentials. Coming from a Social Register family that had fallen on hard times in 1929, he went to Princeton on a scholarship, sold sandwiches, newspapers and magazines from door to door, played end on the football team and was president of his senior class. A World War II Navy officer, he participated in eight ma jor Pacific battles and won two Bronze Stars.

Old Shoes. Now a partner and account executive in Philadelphia's Geare-Marston, Inc., advertising agency, lanky (6 ft.

6 in.) Thach Longstreth demonstrates his own sales techniques in pep talks to dealers and salesmen. Says he: "I start out slowly. It's a 25-minute presentation, and by the time I'm through, I'm wringing wet. It reaches a high point where I throw money at them and end by hurling my shoes--an old pair with worn-out soles.

The idea is that you have to wear out shoe leather, too, to make an ad campaign successful." Out after the Republican mayoralty nomination, Longstreth wore out plenty of leather. He spoke from street corners, campaigned on the Frankford El, shook hands with everyone aboard the Pennsylvania Railroad's "Ladies' Day" excursion to New York.

His presence in a four-candidate Republican race was soon felt. One night, Fourth Ward Republican Leader Louis ("The Bull") Sax turned his television set to a local news program. The commentator's guest was Richardson Dilworth, whom Louis Sax eyed darkly: such Democrats as Dilworth had kicked Sax off the public payroll. Recalls Sax: "I noticed there seemed to be something wrong with Dilworth. He was awful nervous. He kept rubbing his hands together." Then the camera turned to another guest: Thach Longstreth. Says Louis the Bull: "I soon saw why Dilworth was nervous. He was worried about running against this guy Longstreth. Longstreth had the looks, he had the confidence, he talked well. I told myself, 'This is the guy we've been looking for.' " New Word. But Independent Republican Longstreth was hardly the man that James F. Meade, who controls about half of Philadelphia's 52 Republican ward leaders (including Sax), was looking for.

Since Meade's place on the city's Tax Revision Board theoretically bars him from all political activity, his ward leaders waited for the word to come from his lieutenant, John G. Monks. It came: Boss Meade was backing capable, colorless Republican Candidate George P. Williams III.

Louis the Bull was unhappy. He wanted a G.O.P. win, even if it had to be with a candidate who owed no debt to the organization. He visited Williams' headquarters, but "it was like a morgue. No one was ever there except his wife and a couple of other people. Then I'd walk past Longstreth's headquarters and the place would be jumping. Mostly with young people, you know, amateurs. I'd meet a friend and he'd say, 'Who are ya for, Louis?' and I'd answer, 'I'm for Williams, but I don't feel right.' " But Sax remained loyal to Meade.

Says he: "We all admire Meade's views--even if he's out of politics." Not all of Meade's men remained so steadfast. Last month G.O.P. City Chairman Robert Duffy, who owed his position to Meade, resigned and announced for Longstreth. Leader Edward Harris, after a canvass in his 27th Ward, also went for Longstreth, saying: "I thought it would be better for the party if committeemen took orders from the bottom up--from the voters--instead of from the top down." Other ward leaders pleaded with Meade to support Longstreth.

From Washington, where President Eisenhower has said that he would like to see some bright new G.O.P. faces in state and local politics, came efforts by National Chairman Leonard Hall to swing Philadelphia leaders behind Longstreth.

A week before the primary election, Meade switched. Meademan John Monks passed around a new word: "We're going for Longstreth." Dubious Henor? Last week, with his new-found organization support adding to his considerable independent strength, Thach Longstreth easily took the Republican nomination. He thereby won the right to face Dick Dilworth, who had only token opposition for the Democratic nomination, in the November elections.

For a less aggressive type than Longstreth, this might be considered a dubious honor. Dilworth is a vote-getter. An honored Marine veteran of both world wars (an arm wound in the Soissons drive of 1918, a Silver Star from Guadalcanal), Dick Dilworth is a successful Philadelphia lawyer, specializing in libel suits. He was elected city treasurer in 1949 and was a key man on the Democratic team that ousted the Republican machine from the city hall after 67 unbroken years of sodden rule. In 1951 he was elected district attorney.

Although Dilworth is favored to win, Thach Longstreth feels that he has advanced the ball from the two-yard line up to somewhere near midfield. A good many others feel the same way. President Eisenhower, in a post-election White House meeting with Longstreth, said he needed no one to tell him what a fine candidate Longstreth would be--he could see for himself. Back in Philadelphia, Louis Sax was chortling: "If we don't beat Dilworth, we'll scare the hell out of him."

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