Hoover And Curtis Win In Landslide

Hoover Quietly Hears Returns With Family Accepts Victory as He Lived - Simply and With Profound Humility FRIENDS 'LISTEN IN' AND WATCH HIS CHARTS Sousa's Band and Stanford Students Serenade Nation's New Leader

By a Staff Correspondent

PALO ALTO, Calif. – The Presidency came to Herbert Hoover as he lived – simply, quietly and with profound humility.

t was 8:30 p.m., Pacific coast time, Nov. 6, when it became certain that his election was assured by a poll that set new political forces and alignments into action. The President-elect was in the drawing room of the unostentatiously charming home he and Mrs. Hoover built on the Stanford University campus that they both knew as students together and love so deeply and to which they have always returned after great service and to prepare for new labors.

With them were their two sons, Herbert Jr. and Allan, and the former’s wife, and a group of friends and neighbors, mostly members of the university faculty. It was like a home gathering in spirit and person. There was no clamor, no tumult, no ceremony, no pose.

Hoover Prepared Chart

The little group, joined from time to time by another close friend, gave its attention to a chart that Mr. Hoover had prepared which gave a comprehensive tabulation of the trend of the count.

The chart was chalked on three classroom blackboards. Two carried the list of states, with the number of precincts in each, and spaces for the report as it came over the wire. The third board listed the states and their electoral vote as they were reported for the two major candidates.

Mr. Hoover and Mrs. Hoover greeted their friends simply and graciously. They mingled with the group, chatting in friendly undertones. For the newspaper men Mrs. Hoover thoughtfully provided a tasty luncheon in the large room that had been filled up for them.

Hears Smith’s Message

In the simple dignity and humanity with which he had accepted the nomination and made his campaign, Mr. Hoover received the recognition from his opponent that he was the victor: there was no change in his manner, nor in that of his family and friends.

The group was seated in the room before an improvised screen, on which the news reel cameramen, who have accompanied him during his race, had shown pictures of his campaigning.

A friend, who was receiving press dispatches, read aloud an Associated Press bulletin giving the message that Governor Smith had wired Mr. Hoover, and which he did not personally receive until the next day.

The group broke into joyous applause, the kind that a family group would give one of its own. There were no heroics or outcries.

As the group rose to await the coming of the student body, which had sent word it would cheer its mentor and friend, the wife of an old friend went to the old fashioned piano in the room and played “America.” Mr. Hoover and the others in the room joined in singing the anthem.

Sousa Plays for Hoovers

The scene remained the same throughout the evening. Friends addressed the President-elect as they have long called him, “Chief.” Mrs. Hoover spoke to him as “Herbert” and “father,” and, in speaking of him to newspaper men and others, as “Mr. Hoover.” The two youths and the wife of Herbert Jr., who adores him[, know him] as “dad.”

When the students led by Commander Sousa and his band came to the house the band leader was welcomed with quiet dignity and friendliness by Mr. Hoover and his wife. There was no ceremony or formality. The music and acclaim of the students was radiocast over a national hookup.

After Mr. Hoover and his wife and sons and daughter-in-law had listened to the college cheers of the student body, they invited their friends to the roof of their Pueblo-type home to view the spectacle and to hear the brief concert that Commander Sousa’s band gave. The spectacle was deeply moving.

Achieves Greatest Ambition

Under a wide panorama of a starlit Californian sky, on the campus where he won his first public honors and around which he and Mrs. Hoover have woven their lives, the President-elect received the first public recognition of the realization of his greatest ambition, the noblest aspiration in every American youth’s dreams – the Presidency of the United States.

In the home and amid the surroundings that he loves, he accepts with moving humility the acclaim of his friends, the teachers and students of Stanford University, of which he is a trustee and a benefactor. When the music was over, the great throng of youth urged him to speak.

“I thank you for coming out and giving us this greeting tonight,” Mr. Hoover said quietly, and in a voice husky with deep emotion. “I do appreciate it from the bottom of my heart. Thank you.”

Tears in His Eyes

Those standing near to him saw tears in his eyes as he turned away.

As the students departed, many of them college classmates of Allan’s, the neighbors and friends in the house began to depart. To each Mr. Hoover and Mrs. Hoover had a quiet and personal word of thanks. In a little while the home was empty, excepting for reporters and a few friends who were house guests. After studying late reports which showed an increasingly overwhelming victory, Mr. Hoover bade “good night” to everyone and retired to his study to read for a little while as is his wont.

From morning, when he and his family went to vote, until midnight, when he retired, the atmosphere of the home was that of a family circle. There was no ceremony or ostentation. Friends came and went as they have always done and were greeted with the same warm friendliness they have always known.

Congratulated by Dr. Jordan

There was the recounting of numerous congratulation anecdotes. George Akerson, assistant to Mr. Hoover, told of the request that his eight-year-old son, Fred, had made of him when he left Washington to accompany Mr. Hoover to Palo Alto.

“Bring me back a President, Daddy,” the youngster said to him.

Before the dinner hour, Dr. David Starr Jordan, president emeritus of Stanford University, who was Mr. Hoover’s teacher and mentor, came to get the balloting returns.

“Are congratulations in order?” he asked his former pupil, when Mr. Hoover came forward to greet him.

“No, not yet,” was the reply, although it was evident even at that hour, that his election was assured.

As the tabulation continued during the evening and it was apparent that Mr. Hoover would carry at least two of the southern states, some of those in the house group rushed up to him in much joy and told him of the news. Mr. Hoover smiled quietly and said “Thank you.”

Throughout the evening, as returns poured in from all sections of the country, there was never an evidence of boisterousness or exultation in the Hoover household. Mr. Hoover chatted quietly with friends or was in his study receiving messages and long distance telephone calls from political leaders.

When one of the neighbors, acting as a tabulator, responded to a query from another friend, “We have no definite reports on Washington and Oregon, but the press concedes them,” Mr. Hoover said quietly, “Don’t put that in the won column, let’s wait and see the figures first.”

As he bade “good night” to his friends, no longer a private citizen, members of the United States Secret Service took over the supervision of his protection. The commander of the service reported to him, and for the first time he was addressed officially, “Mr. President.”