“It’s tight, but we can make do,” Betty said.
Helen crossed the room, pulled open the curtains, and arched her neck to look below. “Wonder what it would be like to stay all the way up on the twenty-seventh floor.”
“Expensive,” Olive answered, dropping her suitcase on the floor next to one of the beds. “What’s this?” she asked, lifting a paper from off the bed’s pillow and reading it.
“What do you have there?” asked Betty.
Olive held up a typewritten letter and a colorful flyer. “It’s a letter from the American Jewish Labor Committee urging us to boycott the Olympics and a flyer about an event called the Counter-Olympics being held here in August.” She handed the documents to Helen, who took them and dropped to one of the beds.
Helen spent a few minutes reading through the letter. “They certainly have a point. Have any of you read Mein Kampf?”
“Mine what?” Annette asked.
“It’s Adolf Hitler’s political manifesto.” At the mystified expressions on the other women’s faces, she frowned. “It’s full of hatred toward anyone who’s not what he considers to be pure-blooded German and outlines his ideas about how this Aryan so-called master race must rise up and exterminate all lesser people, especially Jews.”
The other women gave one another uneasy sideways glances. Even in the stuffy confines of the small room, a chill passed over Betty. “Since when has running had anything to do with politics?” she asked.
Helen gave Betty an incredulous look. “The Olympics have everything to do with politics. Haven’t you been reading the newspapers?”
Betty shook her head slowly. Sometimes she read the sports pages, but beyond that? No. She tried to affect a playful tone in an attempt to downplay the nagging sense of having overlooked something important. “The news is always depressing, and it makes me feel dreadfully helpless so I’ve been focusing on what I’m good at: running. I’ll leave the big decisions to the people in charge.” She stole a look at Olive and Annette. They were both nodding along with her, their faces red with embarrassment.
“And anyway, why would we boycott?” Annette asked. “We’ve worked so hard to compete. It seems like this boycott would be punishing us more than anyone.”
“Chancellor Hitler, the man who’s leading Germany, has instituted all kinds of policies that discriminate against Jews and other groups in the country. There was a lot of debate about this boycott last December and the issue came to a vote. Avery Brundage, the head of the AOC, argued that the U.S. should participate because amateur sports should be used to bond us all together globally.”
“That seems reasonable,” Annette said.
“But our participation in these games gives Hitler legitimacy. At least, that’s what the president of the AAU argued. His side lost the boycott vote by only a couple of votes. It was close.”
Annette grimaced. “It does sound like this Hitler fellow is trouble.”
“Yes, he most certainly is,” Helen said.
“But why should we get involved in what another country’s doing? It doesn’t feel like any of our business,” Olive said. “And we’ve got plenty of problems of our own to focus on. I practically had to call everyone in my town to raise the money for this. All my neighbors are broke.”
Helen placed the letter and the flyer on the bed beside her and looked at her teammates. “Well, what this letter is telling us is that we’re being given a choice about competing in Berlin and with that choice comes a little bit of power. We should all be thinking about what we’re going to do with it.”
An awkward silence descended over the group.
There was a knock at the door and Annette opened it. Caroline stood in the doorway, a worried look on her face. “Dee has just called for a team meeting in the hotel’s dining room.”
“Did she say what it’s about?” asked Betty.
“Be downstairs in ten minutes. The AOC has decided not to take all of us to Berlin. She’s going to announce the new, smaller team.”
42.
July 6, 1936
New York City
HELEN LEANED AGAINST THE WALL OF THE HOTEL’S dining room, trying to be inconspicuous. She felt confident that she would be traveling to Berlin, but who else would be joining her?
She watched the women filing in and thought of the boycott letter upstairs in their room, cringing. Why had she bothered to explain Hitler’s manifesto? Everyone had been so excited to make the team. Why did she have to be serious and bookish and make everyone nervous? Her teammates were already nervous enough about this budget shortfall business. Even Betty, who tried so hard to be kind to Helen, even she had looked mortified on Helen’s behalf.
Dee entered the room and sat. With barely a glance at the collection of women gathered around her, she started reading from a piece of paper. “Ladies, I have news from the AOC. It’s with great regret that I’m here to inform you that the committee has insufficient funds to pay for a full team to travel to Germany. The committee reviewed the results from Providence and has decided to focus on individual events. Full travel funding will be provided for the following athletes: Helen Stephens, Tidye Pickett, Kathlyn Kelley, Annette Rogers, and Anne O’Brien, all of whom had outstanding finishes at the Olympic trials and represent our country’s best shot at medals.” She stopped reading and cautiously raised her gaze to sweep over the athletes to gauge their reaction.
Astonishment rendered the group silent. Helen swallowed and kept her gaze trained on Dee. Only five of the women would be going to Berlin?
Dee cleared her throat and continued reading her speech. “But athletes who can raise five hundred dollars of their own funds to underwrite their travel will be permitted to
