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Frances PerkinsFrances Perkins
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owned that piece of property, even if they couldn't live there - they lived in Danville for several winters. She had lots of kin there and I would be meeting her relations and friends.

This is interesting because it's the kind of thing you dealt with all the time. The problem was to keep Virginia and all the southern states voting the Democratic ticket. It was hard. We were sent down to make it easier for them.

We arrived at seven A.M. We had left word to be called and the porter hadn't called us quite on time. We rushed, dressed ourselves, threw on our clothes, thinking, “We'll have a chance to fix ourselves later and clean up.” We looked terrible. We had just tossed our clothes on, pushed our hair under a hat, and got off the train more dead than alive and hardly awake.

There on the platform at Danville, Virginia, was the Mayor of Danville, a band and a considerable company of men and women--mostly men, however--the Democratic Committee, I suppose, as well as Mr. Randolph Mead who was to be our host. I didn't know the Mayor from Adam, but as we stood on the back platform of the sleeping car while the porter was getting our steps down and begs off, Irene said to me, “Oh, my God, there's the mayor of Danville!”





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