Zangara

'''Note: This timeline is similar in concept to No FDR and has the same POD. However, the outcome it produces is quite different.'''

February 15, 1933: From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia ''FDR was giving a speech in Bayfront Park in the city of Miami, Florida where Zangara was living, working the occasional odd job, and living off his savings. Zangara took a .32 caliber pistol, purchased at a local pawn shop, and joined the crowd. However, being only five feet tall, he was unable to see over other people and had to stand on a wobbly, folding, metal chair, peering over the hat of Lilian Cross, a doctor's wife, to get a clear aim at his target. After the first shot, Mrs. Cross and others grabbed his arm and he fired five more shots wildly. Six people were hit, including Chicago mayor Anton Cermak, who was sitting next to FDR. Initially it was believed Roosevelt had escaped injury. En route to the hospital, Cermak had allegedly told FDR, "I'm glad it was me and not you, Mr. President". However, it soon became clear that Roosevelt, too, had been hit by the bullet. The delayed time it took for the wound to be discovered led eventually to the President-elect's death. Roosevelt quickly succumbed to the wound, which was in his chest (the initial bleeding had been obscured by his clothing and only now became apparent) within minutes of arriving at the hospital and lapsed into a coma. Doctors were unable to prevent his death, which occured on February 23, two weeks before his scheduled inauguration on March 4.''

February 23, 1933: ''Vice President-elect John Nance Garner focused on the news and tried to keep his expression level. It was all an act - a mixture of shock, fear and, to his own disgust, a small amount of relief, were all sloshing around in his brain. ''"How long ago?" asked Garner, his voice carefully tailored to conceal anything but remorse over Roosevelt's death. ''"Just a few moments ago, Mr. Vice President-elect," said the young messenger who had been dispatched to Garner's office in Texas. No longer Speaker of the House, Garner hadn't had much to do since November. Technically he was still a Congressman, but that didn't mean much, since he was due to become Roosevelt's second banana in two weeks. But now, everything was suddenly different." "Is, er, that is...do we...?" Garner struggled to find the words to express his question. They'd discussed it last week, as Roosevelt lay dying in a Chicago hospital. It was fortunate, in a way, that Zangara's bullet had struck when it did. It was only at the beginning of this year that the 20th Amendment had passed, which made it clear what happened if a President-elect died before March 4. Had this happened any time before, chaos might have taken over. But the law was clear, and John Nance Garner saw himself standing on the abyss of history. "It's as we discussed, sir," said Garner's aide, standing respectfully by the fireplace. "Sir?" said the young messenger, his face still marked with desperate concern. "What is it, son?" asked Garner, his Texan drawl having a reassuring edge to it. ''"Does this mean you're going to be President now, sir?" ''Garner said nothing for a moment, and then slowly nodded. "Yes, son, it does." He turned to his aide. "Has there been any discussion of a funeral?" "Not yet, sir. But I expect it will take place somewhere in New York. President Hoover's going to want you to go, sir." ''Garner was silent for a long while. Then he stood up and shuffled some papers on his desk. "Well," he said, "y'all'd better hope nothing happens to me in the next two weeks. Otherwise that'll leave that Jackass Stimson in charge."'' ''The aide spoke up. "Actually, sir, it..." He shut his mouth after Garner waved him silent. He turned back to the messenger. "Thanks, son. You can go now." ''When the messenger had left, Jack Garner stared at the papers on the desk and at the clock on the wall. Then he turned to his aide. "Well," he said. "Now this is a hell of a thing to happen..."''