The Atlanta Chamber of Commerce was going to serve Taft possum and taters, a Southern specialty that one writer of the time described as “the Christmas goose of the epicurean negro.” An opossum, roasted on a bed of sweet potatoes, was typically presented whole—head on, pale tail hanging off it like a meaty noodle—with a smaller potato crammed between the animal’s fifty tiny teeth. The one brought to Taft’s table weighed eighteen pounds. After the meal, the orchestra started to play, and the guests suddenly broke into song while Taft, presumably caught off guard, was presented with a gift. It
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