I became a son-in-law in the United States

The speech manuscript for Chapter 105 is missing?

The next day, the plaza in front of Boston City Hall was more crowded than ever before.

Just three days later, crowds poured in from all directions, almost blocking all the intersections.

Fortunately, Boston City Hall has a long history and was well-planned when it was built, and the area is quite spacious, so these people didn't have to climb the lampposts when they came in.

In short, Lomasny delivered on his promise.

Looking around, you could see dockworkers, textile factory workers, stevedores from Boston, and Roxbury gangsters—everyone who could come was there, a huge, bustling crowd.

Among these people, the Irish were the most numerous, followed by Italians, then Jewish merchants and Slavic women.

In the United States in the 20s, it was easy to distinguish these groups. Anyone who had lived in Boston for six months could tell their ethnicity at a glance.

The Irish like to wear tweed and green hats, Italians like to shave and smoke cigars, and most of them speak the Neapolitan dialect.

Jews mostly wear old suits, carry briefcases, and are very wary of everything unfamiliar around them.

As for the Slavs, most of them were women who liked to wear scarves and rarely spoke English.

Of course, in addition to these, there were also some bakers, bar workers, and even butchers who came to watch the spectacle.

The boss said that as long as you participate, you can get a bag of hard bread and a jar of sauerkraut when you go home that night. Although these things add up to less than 15 cents, for most unemployed women, this is a small amount of income.

Even a mosquito's leg is still meat; every little bit counts.

There are many millionaires in this era, but just as many people go hungry. The rich feast while the poor freeze to death on the streets—it's a similar story everywhere.

As for collecting bread, Luther was no stranger to this tactic; it was essentially no different from scrambling for eggs at the supermarket, except that the gang controlled this route.

Of course, these gifts weren't something you could just take anywhere, and you couldn't just try to sneak in. Everyone who came in would be checked, and if there were no problems, their hand would be stamped with blue-black ink.

After the speech, only those marked with these blue-black ink marks can collect their gifts. Each adult can collect one gift, while two or three children can collect one gift.

Besides the working class, Joseph Sr.'s opponents also paid close attention to this speech.

On the other side of the city hall steps stood several well-dressed people, holding binoculars, but without the blue-black ink stains on their hands.

These were none other than Lowell's men, ordered to supervise the situation and then report back to the master of the house in detail.

"There are quite a lot of people," Lowell said with a smile.

The chief of staff didn't speak, but simply glanced at the dense crowd in the square. There were at least five thousand people, maybe even seven thousand.

"This guy! I didn't expect him to get so many people here?" He finally spoke, but his voice was hoarse, and his face was perfectly calm. "But so what? What can a female student say?"

Politics is a man's game; women have no place in it at all. This is both a rule and a fact.

Meanwhile, in a private room backstage, Jia was making final preparations.

Old Joseph was talking to his assistant about something, probably about giving each of the attendees some money.

Mrs. Rose sat in front of the dressing mirror, fixing her daughter's hair and clothes, and even putting on a barely noticeable layer of makeup.

To be more appropriate for the occasion, Gia changed into an ordinary dress that looked "old," but had actually been specially treated to show her stance—that she, or rather the Kennedy family, stood with the workers and the vast majority of female voters.

She looked at herself in the mirror and felt a little dazed. Her throat was dry, and her face had started to turn red and hot without her noticing.

"Luther, I'm a little nervous," she said, looking at her husband beside her.

"I can see that. Actually, it wasn't necessary."

Why?

Luther sighed softly, "You think they're all looking forward to your appearance, that they'll listen carefully to every word you say, scrutinize your choice of words, and evaluate your opinions, right?"

Jia nodded; that was exactly what she was worried about.

Although giving speeches is nothing new at Wellesley, and the school often assigns tasks for students to give presentations.

But speeches at school are filtered and taken from a great distance; they can't compare to the real experience of being there in person.

The workers' body odor was so strong, mixed with the smell of pickled cabbage, that it could be smelled even from a distance.

Luther explained, "You're overthinking it. They came to listen to your speech today because they can get a prize afterward. They don't care what you said or how well you did it."

To ease the tension of surprise, Luther did exaggerate a little.

"I see," Jia said, a little disappointed. She had prepared for this for a long time. "Then I'm fine with it."

She nodded to Luther and his family, then turned to go on stage. But just then, Gia paused slightly and said to John F. Kennedy, who was standing beside her, "John, have you seen my speech?"

"Didn't I just give it to you?" Kennedy Jr. replied immediately.

"Why isn't it here! I remember it was right here!"

Jia glanced around, and the Kennedys also went to search. In an instant, there was a flurry of activity, with the sounds of rummaging through drawers and cabinets everywhere.

The city hall's backing wasn't large; besides some simple furniture, there wasn't much. Once the manuscript was gone, it was gone—everyone knew that perfectly well.

Strangely enough, the speech manuscript, which was just placed on the table, disappeared in the blink of an eye, and the key point is that no one noticed.

Seeing this, she immediately panicked: "How can I give a speech without a prepared script?"

Jia couldn't do without her speech. She spent several days writing and revising it dozens of times to prepare for this speech. It was her greatest source of confidence and support.

Now that her speech is gone, her greatest source of confidence has also disappeared.

Just as Gia was about to lose her composure, Luther suddenly walked over, placed his hands on her shoulders, and stared into her eyes.

"Do you really think you need those few sheets of paper?"

Jia was taken aback.

"Jia, after all, you wrote those words. Even if the manuscript is gone, those words are still in your head, right?"

Luther's voice was not loud, but it was very clear, and every word was etched into Gia's heart.

"They don't care if you're really embarrassing yourself. All you need to do is tell people outside that we're in cahoots."

"But I'm worried..."

"You've been preparing for so long," Luther said with a smile, releasing his grip and stepping aside. "Go ahead, just say what you want to say."