So Went the Nation

January 10, 1961

            The final results of the first official Comeaux Presidential Poll established Senator John F. Kennedy a seven and one-half to five and one-half favorite over Vice President Richard M. Nixon. The poll was limited to members of the Comeaux family, and, similar to national polls, it went right down to the wire, with Kennedy emerging the favorite just a few days before the election.

Four of the voters in or above junior high voted for Nixon, with the other two supporting Kennedy. But the basic test of Kennedy’s widespread public appeal came from the elementary school children.

Sixth-grader Christine and fourth-grader Paul voted for Nixon, increasing his lead to six to two. Then the tide suddenly shifted. The first indication of a change came when Carolyn, a sentimental third grader, voted for both candidates, tearfully suggesting that we could have two presidents.

Now the Kennedy camp delivered. Bill returned from his second grade class to report that he and the rest of his class basically shared their teacher’s political viewpoint, and had voted Kennedy a razor-thin edge of fifty (50) to three (3).

The other three ballots were cast by pre-schoolers. Francis voted for Kennedy, which was logical considering the fact that he now shows a remarkable resemblance to the pictures of six year old Kennedy. Four-year-old Patti had attended a children’s rally in connection with a Democratic Tea Party, and she became sold on the Democratic ticket. Her avid support for her candidates was revealed when she surprisingly and arrogantly interrupted a supper-table debate with the point-blank question, “And what about Johnson?” and by her persistent applause during Kennedy’s television speeches.

The most significant result of the poll was the fact that half-year old Mary made the right prediction, a fact certain to be included in her future autobiographies. The Kennedy forces, losing six and one-half to five and one-half, desperately laid out on the floor, side by side, the two issues of Time magazine bearing cover photos of the candidates. Mary was placed a short distance from the magazines, and she crawled toward them. Although disturbingly prompted by each rival faction, on two separate occasions she selected Kennedy. The consensus was that her relentless slapping of Kennedy’s picture was a signal of approval rather than an attempt to obliterate the man. Shouts of “cheat” were raised by the Republicans, who declared that the background of Kennedy’s picture was lighter and naturally more attractive.

The recount revealed a tie at six and one-half each, as close to the national average as thirteen people could be. Meanwhile, the Republicans gained new hope of carrying Carolyn by a slim margin. She was jocularly kept after school one day for wearing a Nixon-Lodge button, which she had gotten from a Republican’s daughter afraid to wear it to class. Nevertheless, Carolyn still supported a split ticket.

With the poll still tied, a suspicious and gullible Paul returned from school with the news that Nixon was afraid to go into New York without Eisenhower, and, because of that cowardly  strategy, he was switching his support. Thus, the Kennedy supporters were triumphant by a vote of seven and one-half to five and one-half.

The effect of the grueling family campaign was opposite, however, when Momma and Daddy bolted the family to vote Republican. It was unrepresentative, yes, but the national results were satisfactory.

— As a postscript, follow-up memories recalled that Momma, a Home Economics major, reacted to Kennedy’s assertion that eating steak rather than beans was a good standard-of-living index, with “There is just as much protein in beans!” Daddy, a WWII veteran, had worn a Nixon button during the campaign, but wore a Kennedy button the day after the election, signaling that he supported the nation’s choice. And my history teacher, Mr. Henderson, responded “No way” to my naïve question if Kennedy, with less than fifty percent of the popular vote, would form a bi-partisan government.