ABSTRACT

On March 3, 1913, Washington, D.C., was decked out for a celebration, eagerly awaiting the next day’s inauguration of Woodrow Wilson as the twentyeighth president of the United States. Buildings were festooned with streamers and bunting; thousands of dazzling electric lights were strung along the main thoroughfares. The nation’s capital, as one reporter wrote, was a “gay, thronged city of fairyland.”1 Wilson and his entourage had slipped into the city, arriving at a strangely quiet Union Station at 3:45 in the afternoon. A few onlookers waved and clapped as the party headed to the Shoreham Hotel. “Where are the people?” Wilson asked, expecting a throng of well-wishers to greet him. “On the avenue, watching the suffragist parade,” came the reply.2