#36. Johnson, Lyndon Baines

Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas – Lyndon Baines Johnson (1908-1973) was the 36^th President of the United States, from 1963-1969. Looking back over the previous 35, it seems the US populace tends to select presidents “seasonally”; that is, in a longing for change (like when we chose George the ordinary man over George the king). When it’s spring we can’t wait for summer; in August heat we long for the coolness of fall. One party’s policies we replace with the other; and then, we change back. But that move from a youthful rock star to a good old boy in a cowboy hat was a same-party insta-switch. Of course, “different” was the plan, the Democratic ticket had needed a southerner to balance New England cool, and entice the southern states to stay on board. Lyndon obliged. VP Lyndon was in the second car behind John Kennedy in that fatal Texas parade November 22, 1963; he and Lady Bird were scheduled to host the Kennedys for a weekend of relaxation at their Texas ranch after campaigning was done. Lyndon took care of Jackie’s wishes immediately after John’s death; he made sure she was standing by his side as he was sworn in on Air Force One. As our new president, he dictated that even though the Secret Service wanted them back in Washington immediately – who knew what plots were afoot?; and even though Texas medical examiners insisted an autopsy be performed there; the dead president’s body was put onto Air Force One and taken to Bethesda Naval Hospital, which was Jackie’s choice. Lyndon was an imposing figure, and he knew how to push.

Life On The Pedernales

Lyndon Baines Johnson was born August 27, 1908, in a small farmhouse near the Pedernales River in Stonewall, Texas. That was isolated Hill Country, where “the soil was so rocky it was hard to make a living from it.” He was the eldest of the five children of Samuel Ely and Rebekah Baines Johnson – Lyndon, Sam Houston, Rebekah, Josefa, and Lucia. Father Sam served six terms in the Texas Legislature; by the time Lyndon was 10 he was going to the Capitol in Austin with his Dad; he watched the floor debates; he listened to behind-the-scenes deal-making. Rebekah had big dreams for her children; her dreams for Lyndon were especially grand, something she never let him forget.

So here’s a story-book fairy tale for you: Ludwig Erhard, the chancellor of what was then West Germany, was scheduled to meet with President Kennedy in Washington November 25, 1963, complete with full military honors and a formal black-tie dinner. Instead, he wound up attending the funeral of President Kennedy. The nation-to-nation talk was rescheduled to December, and new President Johnson decided that instead of the Washington DC formality, he’d do the honors in his home state, in his own way. Lyndon met the chancellor at the Austin airport; helicopters flew the party over the state capitol, and then headed for Hill Country and the LBJ Ranch, there along the Pedernales. Secretary of State Dean Rusk was there; diplomatic talks began at the Texas White House but soon shifted to a tour of the ranch. On Sunday there was a visit to nearby Fredericksburg, an area originally settled by German farmers; the Mayor’s welcoming speech was in German; then they went to church, where hymns were sung in German.

The state dinner took place in the high school gymnasium; 30 tables set up on the basketball court, loaded with five hundred pounds of brisket, three hundred pounds of spareribs, German potato salad, Texas coleslaw, ranch baked beans, and sourdough biscuits. At the end, a choral group sang Tief in Dem Herzen Von Texas (Deep in the Heart of Texas) and a smiling Erhard was presented with a ten-gallon hat. A key relationship with a crucial Cold War ally – solid.

There’s another part of this story, equally fairy-tellable; on a cross-country move in 1999 I spent a night in Fredericksburg; I went to that church on Sunday morning where hymns are sung in German; then I took the trolley-train-tour around the town, which drove us by that farmhouse where Lyndon was born 91 years before. Our tour guide took great delight in recounting this part of Erhard’s visit: “When they came by here,” he said, “Lyndon poked him in the ribs and grinned, saying ‘Now there’s where I got spermed!’” We laughed; I’m sure Erhard must have too – two guys, cracking jokes. Nothing fancy.

From There, To There

In 1924, Lyndon graduated from Johnson City High School as president of his six-member senior class. And he didn’t want to go to college. He and some friends drove to California and took some odd jobs; then back to Texas and work on a construction crew. Finally, he enrolled at Southwest Texas State Teachers College, where he worked as a janitor and office helper to help cover costs. He left for a year to teach 5th, 6th, and 7th grades at Welhausen, an impoverished Mexican-American school in the South Texas town of Cotulla. That’s where “purpose” began to take hold and he began to realize the importance of education; finally with enough money to finish school, he graduated in 1930 with a BS in history and a teaching certificate. Just thirty-three more years till the presidency. Lyndon went from teacher to congressional aide; then US Representative from Texas, then Senator from Texas. In 1951 he was Senate Majority whip; in 1954 majority leader. And he tried for the president’s spot on the Democratic ticket in the 1960 election, but lost out to Kennedy.

Crude, Rude, and Shrewd

Nevermind, I’ll just be an innocuous VP. Shrewd. But Lyndon didn’t behave like a VP was supposed to behave. He requested his own office and full-time staff in the White House; he drafted an executive order for Kennedy’s signature granting him “general supervision” over matters of national security. Kennedy turn him down on both requests, but tried to keep him happy, saying “He knows every reporter in Washington, I can’t afford him saying we’re screwed up.” Bobby was openly contemptuous of Lyndon, that’s Attorney General Robert Kennedy, you know, John’s younger brother. Many members of the Kennedy White House ridiculed Lyndon’s crudeness. Rude.

So Kennedy appointed him head of the President’s Committee on Equal Employment Opportunities (intended as a nominal position) , where Lyndon worked with African Americans and other minorities. To keep him out of the way, Lyndon was sent on many minor diplomatic missions; this gave him insight into global issues (and opportunities for self-promotion). Kennedy gave him control over all presidential appointments involving Texas; and appointed him Chairman of the National Aeronautics and Space Council, asking him to evaluate the US space program and recommend a project that would beat the Soviets. Lyndon recommended getting an American to the moon in the 60s. Fingers in nearly every pie.

High Society to Great Society

With all the dominoes Lyndon managed to row up during his 1,063 days as Vice President, on November 3, 1964, after 347 days as President, they all fell in his direction. It was a landslide win, the largest share of the popular vote for Democrats in history – 61%. He squeaked in as a VP on that Kennedy ticket, but the Texan won his own presidency Texas style. Big.

And so the Great Society was launched. All aimed at expanding civil rights, public broadcasting, access to health care, aid to education and the arts, urban and rural development, and public services. The War on Poverty. Medicare and Medicaid. The Higher Education Act. The Nationality Act. Containment of Communism. And then the ongoing Vietnam War began to spark angry protests. Race riots became violent; crime rates spiked; Lyndon’s approval rating dropped. In despair he chose not to seek another term.

On January 20, 1969, Lyndon Johnson was there for Richard Nixon’s swearing-in, then leaving the White House in Republican hands, got on the plane to fly back to his ranch in Texas. When the front door of the plane closed, he lit a cigarette ‍—‌ his first since his heart attack in 1955. One of his daughters pulled it out of his mouth and said, “Daddy, what are you doing? You’re going to kill yourself.” He took it back and said, “I’ve raised you girls. I’ve been President. Now it’s my time.” On January 22, 1973, at the age of 64, he suffered his final heart attack. He managed to call the Secret Service agents there on the ranch; they found him in his bed, still holding the phone. He is buried near the house where he was born, now a part of the National Park Service.

Historian Kent Germany summarizes the presidency of Lyndon Johnson in this way: The man who was elected to the White House by one of the widest margins in US history and pushed through as much legislation as any other American politician now seems to be remembered best by the public for succeeding an assassinated hero, steering the country into a quagmire in Vietnam, cheating on his saintly wife….”

His Saintly Wife

Claudia Alta Taylor (1912-2007) was born December 22, 1912, in Karnack, Texas, near the Louisiana state line. Her birthplace was “The Brick House,” an antebellum plantation house on the outskirts of town. When she was a baby, her nursemaid said she was “pretty as a ladybird” and the name stuck. Her father was Thomas Jefferson Taylor; he owned 15,000 acres of rich cotton bottomland and two general stores. Her mother, Minnie Lee Pattillo Taylor, a tall, eccentric woman from an aristocratic Alabama family, fell down a flight of stairs while pregnant and died when Lady Bird was five; her widowed father married two more times. Lady Bird was raised by her maternal aunt Effie Pattillo and spent summers with her Pattillo relatives in Alabama, growing up with watermelon cuttings, and picnics; family gatherings on lazy Sunday afternoons.

She was 22 when she met Lyndon on a visit to Washington in 1934, and already had herself two degrees from the University of Texas (history and journalism, with honors) and a substantial inheritance from her mother’s estate. Lyndon proposed on their first date. Ten weeks later they married at St Mark’s Episcopal Church in San Antonio.

Their marriage suffered due to Lyndon’s numerous affairs; her personal writings mention her humiliation over her husband’s infidelities; he often bragged that he “slept with more women than Kennedy did.” But Lady Bird took $10,000 from her inheritance to finance Lyndon’s first campaign when he decided to run for Congress; and Lady Bird ran his congressional office when he enlisted in the Navy at the beginning of WWII.

During WWII, she spent $17,500 from her inheritance to purchase KTBC, an Austin radio station, setting up the LBJ Holding Company with herself as president. In 1952 she added a television station; when Lyndon objected, she reminded him that she could do what she pleased with her inheritance. Eventually, her initial investment turned into more than $150 million for LBJ Holding; she was the first president’s wife to be a millionaire in her own right before her husband was elected to office. Well then.

When All Is Said And Done

When you count everything up, Lyndon and Lady Bird Johnson accomplished amazing things, whatever their reasons – a genuine love of country, or a need to build their own self-esteem. Does it matter? Lyndon’s contributions to the world are extraordinary, one can believe his own experiences with poverty and discrimination led him to take a strong stance against them. And Lady Bird’s example of the importance of a First Lady’s role began to break the ice; indeed her accomplishments inspire hope for the roles of all women today. She lived 34 years after Lyndon’s death, spearheading public service projects around the country and enjoying time with her daughters and grandchildren. She died at the age of 94 on July 11, 2007; eight presidents were represented at her funeral there at the ranch.

I find it interesting that Lady Bird and Jackie became friends; look at what they shared – both had step-parents and unusual family alliances, miscarriages and unfaithful husbands; yet they struggled for family solidity as their children – Caroline and John, Lynda and Lucy – were exposed to the unrelenting beam of the White House spotlight. Both women were intelligent and educated and focused on moving forward. When they were born, remember, women did not yet have the right to vote. Things continue to change.

Go visit the LBJ ranch; you can see the homeplace, and the graves; so many stories there, along the Pedernales. Plan for springtime when the Hill Country bluebonnets are in bloom, that’s when I was there. That quiet visit will suffice as my “party with the Johnsons.”

#35. Kennedy, John Fitzgerald

Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas –John Fitzgerald Kennedy (1917-1963) was the 35^th President of the United States, from 1961 to 1963. He was the youngest person ever elected president; his assassination, 1,036 days into his presidency, was one of the most shocking, and widely viewed events ever witnessed. Television saw to that. Ford Theater, where Abraham Lincoln was killed while watching a play in 1865, had an estimated 1,700 persons in attendance that night; certainly not all in a position to see what happened; or even hear the gunshot, as it was fired deliberately after a laugh line. James Garfield was headed for a vacation when he entered the railroad station in Washington that July morning in 1881; only a small crowd in the waiting room witnessed the gunman step forward and fire. William McKinley was attending the Pan American Exposition in Buffalo, New York when he was killed by an assassins bullet; he was in the Temple of Music surrounded by a crowd; only a few were close enough to realize what happened. After the 1901 assassination of President McKinley, Congress directed the Secret Service to hereafter protect the president of the United States.

John Kennedy was riding in a Lincoln Continental convertible in a well-publicized parade; headed for the Dallas Trade Mart to make a speech November 22, 1963; wife Jackie sat beside. Texas Governor Connally and his wife Nellie were also in the car. A Secret Service agent was driving; another sat in the front; a third, Agent Clint Hill, was following closely on the running board of the car behind. Rifle shots were fired from a sixth-story window of a building along the route as bystanders waved.

I’d just put my kids down for their afternoon nap when I first heard garbled radio accounts that “the president was shot!” Stunned reporters struggled for what to say; I turned on my TV; CBS was the first to report the news, interrupting As the World Turns. I called my husband at work to see if he’d heard anything. At 2:38 Walter Cronkite, waiting in New York for confirmation of Kennedy’s condition, was handed a sheet from the AP news ticker. He put on his glasses, took a few seconds to read the sheet, and looked into the camera with this message: President Kennedy died at 1 PM Central Time, 2 o’clock Eastern Standard Time, some thirty-eight minutes ago.

I walked into my sleeping children’s bedroom, and cried. My kids were the same age as Jackie’s and John’s. How was Jackie going to tell her children something like that?

Suspect Lee Harvey Oswald was quickly apprehended; the media swarmed the jail. Over the next four days the networks were on the air non-stop. We’d just returned from church Sunday and switched on the TV as Jack Ruby shot Oswald. It happened in the basement of the Dallas Police Headquarters; NBC was covering, live. All networks covered the funeral on Tuesday, 50 cameras showed every detail; little John-John saluting the casket as it passed; inside the rotunda of the Capitol little Caroline putting her hand beneath the draped flag on her father’s coffin. A country mourned with prayers, and tears, and muted disbelief.

The Other Side, and Image

And yet, there was another side. In various schoolrooms, bars, and gatherings around the country, applause greeted the news of Kennedy’s death. You see, John Kennedy didn’t become our president by a landslide. He was relatively unknown politically; he was too young. He was a Catholic. He was a rich stuck-up Bostonian with a weird accent. His daddy was a crook. Yet on election day, electoral votes, and charm, and television skewed in Kennedy’s favor.

You see, the 1960 campaign gave us the first televised debate ever. The Kennedy-Nixon Debate, up close and personal from the comfort of our own living room. Interestingly, those who listened to that first debate on the radio scored higher points for Nixon. But television favored Kennedy.

Nixon had been on the public’s radar for eight years as Eisenhower’s VP. He knew about campaigns, and was accustomed to landslide victories. But IMAGE was a new factor in the game. Kennedy met with the debate’s producer ahead of time; he checked the lighting, the temperature, the camera placement. Kennedy wore makeup, and a blue suit and shirt to cut down on glare and appear sharply focused against the background. Nixon refused the offer of makeup; his stubble showed; he looked exhausted and pale. His gray suit seemed to blend into the set; he appeared to be looking at the clock and not the camera; he kept wiping sweat off his face. Kennedy, looking young and energetic, spoke directly to the camera. Result: almost overnight, age and experience lost its importance. We had ourselves a rock star.

The Second Child

John Fitzgerald Kennedy was born May 29, 1917, in Brookline, Massachusetts, the second of Joseph (aka Papa Joe) and Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy’s nine children – Joseph Jr, John, Rosemary, Kathleen, Eunice, Patricia, Robert, Jean, and Edward. John’s grandfathers, both Irish immigrants, over time had served Boston as ward boss, state legislator, mayor, and even US Congressman. Papa Joe Kennedy was a businessman. A very shrewd businessman.

I’ll try to keep it short about Papa Joe; he became wealthy through investments in Hollywood, importing liquor, and real estate. He had multiple affairs with women; Gloria Swanson was one on the list. He donated big bucks to political campaigns and got juicy political appointments, such as Ambassador to the UK. He hobnobbed with royalty at Windsor Castle, and tried to meet with Hitler, who, he believed, was “on the right track.” He didn’t like Jews but he did like Joe McCarthy. He believed that Roosevelt would fall, and hoped to succeed him. That didn’t happen. So Papa Joe lined up his firstborn son to be president; but Joe Jr, a US Navy bomber pilot, was killed over the English Channel in August 1944. Papa Joe turned his attention to #2 son, John.

He Kept Going

John was intelligent, handsome, charming, and, more or less, willing to do what Dad expected of him. But John was also burdened with severe health problems. According to family records, autoimmune disease showed up in his first two years of life—he suffered from almost constant infections during infancy. A bout with scarlet fever was so dire a priest was called to administer last rites. In the first half of his life —  twenty-three years — he attended school (Choate, then Harvard, where he graduated cum laude) while dealing with bronchitis, chicken pox, ear infections, colitis, celiac disease, and more; he was hospitalized for possible leukemia, and he began to experience spinal pain. But he kept going.

The last half of his life pain built on top of pain. He was rejected by the Army in 1940 due to chronic back problems, asthma, and ulcers; classified 4F.  But Papa Joe had a friend who got him into the Navy; in 1942 he became skipper of PT-109; his heroism there earned him a Navy Cross; and more back problems. Three more times a priest was called to administer last rites; but he kept going. He was 30 when he was diagnosed with Addison’s disease; that’s when your body stops producing the hormones you need to balance your metabolism, blood pressure, stress response, and immune system. Wow! that’s pretty much everything you need to keep going. He was so seriously ill a priest was called; last rites administered. He was 33 when his spine got worse; and then, another attack of Addison’s while he and Robert were in Asia; he became delirious, then comatose. Last rites: #3. The year: 1950. With the aid of an unbelievable list of medically-prescribed drugs, he kept going.

Politics and Marriage and General Hospital

In 1952 he was elected US Senator. And he met the beautiful Jacqueline Bouvier; they married the next year; he was 36, she was 24. Over the next 10 years, John was hospitalized nine times. He had spinal surgery, developed a urinary tract infection, slipped into a coma, and wasn’t expected to last the night; a priest was called for last rites for a fourth time. Jackie had a miscarriage, and then daughter Arabella was stillborn.

Was the public aware, or tuned into, much of this? Not really. Great joy in January 1957 when daughter Caroline was born healthy; John started campaigning in earnest. On November 25, 1960 son John was born, just 17 days after John Fitzgerald Kennedy was elected President of the United States. Boom!

January 20, 1961 Inauguration Day for John Fitzgerald Kennedy

Priests and preachers and rabbis offered their blessings. Marian Anderson sang the Star Spangled Banner. Robert Frost wrote a special poem, and recited it, despite the sun in his eyes. Carl Sandburg and John Steinbeck and Ernest Hemingway were invited guests. Outgoing president Eisenhower was front and center there, the oldest president ever in office (at that time) handing off to the youngest. Former president Truman was there, and future presidents Johnson, Nixon and Ford were there, making it the largest “presidential fraternity” ever assembled. Plus First Ladies! Jackie Kennedy of course; Edith Wilson, Eleanor Roosevelt, Bess Truman, Mamie Eisenhower, and (as we count today, knowing the future) Lady Bird Johnson, Pat Nixon, and Betty Ford were there. Chief Justice Earl Warren administered the Presidential Oath, a Kennedy Bible was used. Then President Kennedy delivered his address, considered by many to be the best inaugural speech in American history. And the first seen by a television audience, in color.

Home viewers watched the parade too, it lasted three hours; sixteen thousand members of the US armed forces marched with displays of modern weaponry like the Minuteman missile and the supersonic B-70 bomber. Another sixteen thousand marchers were civilians – federal and state officials, high school bands, Boy Scouts, forty floats. Frank Sinatra hosted the Inaugural Ball; Broadway theaters suspended shows so actors could attend; Hollywood biggies spoke and performed as donations rolled in for the Democratic Party. Jackie stayed till 1:30 in the morning; John headed to a second party hosted by Papa Joe.

Let’s Talk About Jackie

Jacqueline Lee Bouvier (1929-1994) was born July 28, 1929 in Southampton, New York, the first child of John “Black Jack” and Janet Lee Bouvier, Wall Street stockbroker and NY socialite. Sister Caroline Lee was born four years later. The stock market crash of 1929 wasn’t the only instability in the Bouvier family; alcoholism and marital affairs caused a separation by 1936, a divorce in 1940. Janet remarried; then Jackie had Hugh Auchincloss (Standard Oil wealth) for a step-father, and three step-siblings; Janet and Hugh had two more children by 1947. And Jackie lived a pampered life in Virginia, becoming an excellent horsewoman and student, graduating top of her class. Vassar, Sorbonne, on her resume; the Kennedy years you already know. She is considered one of the top-notch First Ladies; gracious and charming in her pillbox hat, and unbelievably brave; you’ve seen the picture as she stood beside Lyndon Johnson on Air Force One that day in her pink suit stained with her husband’s blood. The American public didn’t like it when she married Greek oil magnate Aristotle Onassis in 1968 and moved her kids out of the country; he died in 1978 and she returned, working at Doubleday and Viking Press, and getting back into the public eye. She was forgiven, and remains one of the most popular women in American history. She died of cancer in 1994, age 65, and is buried in Arlington Cemetery beside John Kennedy, and their children Arabella, who was stillborn in 1956, and Patrick, who lived two days and died just 106 days before his father’s assassination.

The Aftermath

As for children Caroline and John, they grew up; John was killed in 1999 as he piloted a small aircraft; his wife and sister-in-law also died in the crash. Caroline was appointed US Ambassador to Japan under Obama’s administration; and then Ambassador to Australia by Joe Biden in 2022; choosing to live far from the USA. As for pushy Papa Joe; he lived long enough to see his son Robert assassinated by a gunshot wound to the head in 1968 as he was campaigning for the Democratic party nomination. And his son Edward drive a car off a bridge on Chappaquiddick Island in 1969, drowning his passenger, 28-year-old Mary Jo Kopechne, who was left trapped inside.

The weirdest thing in this tale of ambition and woe and television impact? Doctors tell us that if John Kennedy had not been wearing the stiff backbrace that he was confined to for the greatest part of his life, he likely would not have been killed that day. The first, and survivable, shot hit him in the back. Without a backbrace, that shot would have knocked him forward, out of range of the second shot, which, since he remained erect, hit directly in the back of his head. And the other weird thing? Records released after 2002 show that due to the overwhelming amount of drugs he was taking, and the fragility of his health, he likely would have died within a year or two anyway.

That shining spot called Camelot? John Fitzgerald Kennedy, despite all the coverups and innuendo and alleged womanizing (with all those meds, and braces?) did something good for his country; his youth and positive encouragement gave a lot of people hope. But the price tag for that rock star image was huge.

I liked him. But no party.

#34. Eisenhower, Dwight David

Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas – Dwight David Eisenhower (1890-1969) was the 34^th President of the United States, from 1953 to 1961. Of all the presidents who ever campaigned for president, and all the names a political party could pick to head their ticket, nobody had a better name to fit onto a campaign button: I LIKE IKE was a made-to-order winner! And then, the guy was a war hero, to boot. Five-Star General. Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces. Who better to lead a country of 160 million that was becoming, or visioning itself as, “the leader of the free world?” Supreme Commander. We know that sometimes, in order to be supreme, little things get rolled over. We know that being supreme, and being likable, are different things. Sometimes we don’t like our presidents and take aim directly (a few assassinations come to mind); sometimes we just stop voting for them, or put them down in history as NGP’s (Not Great Presidents). What did we do with Ike? And how liked was Ike?

Way Way Way Back

The “Eisenhauer” family migrated from Germany to Pennsylvania in 1741. “Eisenhauer” translates to “iron hewer;” anglicized to the spelling we know today: Eisenhower. Fast forward to October 14, 1890, and Denison, Texas. That’s when Dwight David entered the world, the third of seven sons born to David Jacob and Ida Stover Eisenhower. Ike’s family had specific times for Bible reading, and chores; discipline came from Dad if not met. Father David was a college-educated engineer; but family fortunes went up and down over the years. Mother Ida’s childhood was a series of more downs that ups; reading the Bible was her education. When Ike was born she belonged to Jehovah’s Witnesses and their home was the local meeting hall. Dwight was named “Dwight” after evangelist Dwight L Moody; all the boys– Arthur, Edgar, Dwight, Roy, Paul, Earl, Milton – were nicknamed “Ike” as a shortened version of Eisenhower – Big Ike and Little Ike and so on; the only one still called Ike by World War II was the “Dwight Ike.” Speaking of war, keep this in mind: Mother Ida was a lifelong pacifist, believing that war was wicked. She died in September 1946; Ike was unable to attend her funeral due to war-time duties.

Becoming A Strategist

Along with his gang of brothers Ike grew up hunting, and fishing, but sports – now that was everything. As a freshman playing football, Ike injured his knee; an infection was so bad doctors told him it was life-threatening; the leg must come off. Ike refused. And got well. He graduated Abilene High School in 1909 (the family was in Kansas by then) and worked for a while to earn funds for college. Then someone suggested he apply to the Naval Academy as no tuition was required. Ike conferred with his Senator who advised applying to West Point as well. He passed the entrance exams for both but was told he was too old for the Naval Academy. He went with the second choice: West Point, 1911.

Ike made the varsity football team at West Point and was a starter halfback in 1912; yes, he played against Jim Thorpe in a famous Big Loss for Army game; in the very next game he was tackled in a knee-injuring play; no more football. Except, by doggie, he became the junior varsity coach. His graduation class of 1915 became known as “the class the stars fell on;” 59 members eventually became officers in the US Army; one of them was Dwight David Eisenhower. Ike’s academic record was average; but, in addition to learning military strategy and football strategy at West Point, he learned to play bridge. He was addicted to bridge throughout his military career. While stationed in the Philippines, he played with President Manuel Quezon and gained the reputation Bridge Wizard of Manila. He played in Europe during the stressful days before the D-Day landings. His favorite partner? General Alfred Gruenther, considered the best bridge player in the Army; Ike appointed him as second-in-command at NATO (reputedly) because of his bridge skill. Well then.

Career Army Means Moving Around

Ike’s very first military assignment was Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas. During WWI he requested to be sent to Europe but wound up training tank crews. Between wars he held staff positions in the US and the Philippines. By WWII he had attained the rank of Brigadier General; then more promotions. He oversaw the Allied invasions of North Africa and Sicily; he supervised the invasions of France and Germany. He was military governor of the American-occupied zone of Germany in 1945, Army Chief of Staff 1945-1948, and first supreme commander of NATO 1951-1952. (For a blip in there he was president of Columbia University.)

And on a personal level? Way back there in San Antonio, Ike met Mamie Doud; her parents were visiting a friend at Fort Sam Houston. He proposed on Valentine’s Day 1916, they got married July 1 (he was 26, she was 20); Ike was granted 10 days leave for a honeymoon. Mary Geneva “Mamie” Doud was born in Boone, Iowa November 14, 1896, the second of the four girls of John Sheldon and Elivera Carlson Doud. Daddy was rich, and Mama was Swedish, which meant Swedish was often spoken at home, and there were plenty of servants to do everything, so Mamie never learned to “keep house.” That didn’t make for a good start as the wife living on the low pay of a military man. But she was accustomed to one thing – not staying put. Her family traveled a lot, and had a number of homes, she grew up in Iowa, Colorado, Texas. As an Army wife she lived in 33 different homes in 37 years as Ike was stationed at different posts.

Ike and Mamie had two sons; Doud Dwight in 1917; who died of scarlet fever at the age of three; the second son, John Sheldon Doud Eisenhower was born in 1922. Ike was stationed in Panama in 1922; Mamie traveled to Denver for John’s birth; when she returned to Panama she brought a nurse to help care for John. Mamie doted on John; he helped ease some of her depression brought about by her firstborn’s death, and her long separations from Ike. In 1928 Ike was stationed in Paris; in 1929, he was appointed as aide to General Douglas MacArthur. 1935: the Philippines. 1939: Back in the US as WWII began.

It’s Been Good To Know You

During World War II, while promotion and fame came to Ike, Mamie lived in Washington, DC. During the three years Ike was stationed in Europe, she saw him only once. And what about son John; where was he during all of this? John graduated high school in Baguio, Philippines when the family lived there. And decided to follow in Dad’s footsteps – he entered West Point on the eve of the US entry into WWII. His graduation date? Incredibly, it was June 6, 1944, D-Day, the day the Allied forces invaded Normandy. Ike missed John’s graduation. Mamie’s health had never been good – she had rheumatic fever as a child; combine that with loneliness and worry; was her son okay? Her husband safe? And those Kay Summersby rumors? Officially Kay was Ike’s “chauffeur” in London, was there more?

It was 1948 before Ike and Mamie bought the first, and only, home they ever owned. Ike had accepted appointment as President of Columbia University, and the home was a farm in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. (It’s now the Eisenhower National Historic Site.) Well oops, Ike was made commander of NATO so, back to Europe, hang up that University presidency; hold up on that farm. One good thing for Mamie then – she got to live in Paris, receive royals regularly, and, was even awarded the Cross of Merit for her role in Ike’s military success. Son John, meanwhile, got married, had kids, earned an MA at Columbia in English, and began teaching English at West Point. He, and Dad, and Mom, and War, would cross paths again.

The Next Republican President

Harry S Truman and Dwight David Eisenhower had different opinions about war, and policy, and, well, most things. But they had to work together during those war years. Ike didn’t approve of Harry’s decision to drop the bomb, no sir. He didn’t approve of Franklin’s “New Deal” or Harry’s “Fair Deal.” By 1952, the list of things Ike didn’t like was long, and the after-war upheaval was still stirring up everybody’s guts, so, perfect timing for a War Hero with a different plan. “I Like Ike” buttons sprouted on thousands of lapels, and by January 20, 1953, Ike and Mamie were riding in the presidential limousine on the way to the White House to pick up outgoing Harry and Bess, who invited them in for a cup of coffee before heading to the swearing-in at the capitol. Ike and Mamie wouldn’t get out of the car.

The snit began way back, all those differences of opinion. And then, right after the election but still a few months before the official change of hands, workers showed up at the White House without notice to start re-arranging the White House for the Eisenhowers. They weren’t allowed in. And then, Harry offered to set up a meeting with Ike to begin sharing critical information an incoming president would need to know (remember, he got nothing when he took over presidential duties). Ike declined, meeting with other sources for information. Mamie and Bess fared better, there is a famous photo of the two “Ladies” December 1, 1952, when Mamie accepted Bess’ offer of a tour of the White House. And so it goes.

Who is Happy?

This is complicated. John first. Back when Ike was Supreme Allied Commander, John wasn’t allowed combat duty as it might be a distraction for his Dad. In 1952, while Ike was running for president, John was fighting in a combat unit in Korea. The heart-to-heart father-son talk went like this: if I am elected president, you must never be captured alive. John accepted the fact that he would have to take his own life rather than become an instrument of blackmail; John’s children at the time – David, Ann, and Susan – were 4, 3, and 1. Ouch. John did get to work in the White House later; he was Dad’s Assistant Staff Secretary and on the Army’s General Staff.

Mamie next. For eight straight years Mamie stayed put! She had a White House staff at her disposal; she looked fashionably pretty in pink; and everybody liked her bangs. She was the first First Lady to present a national public image, often entertaining heads of state, the count was over 70 official foreign visitors. She shook hands with thousands of people and readily accommodated photographers, though she maintained her distance from the press. Once John came home from Korea, she had her family near – four grandkids by 1955. John and his wife Barbara even bought property near the Gettysburg farm so they could be close.

John liked Ike, Mamie liked Ike, and the American public continued to be wowed by Ike. He won 531 electoral votes in 1952 and 1956. He won 55% of the popular vote in 1952 and 57.5% in 1956. Could he have won a third term? Speculation is yes; but Ike was the first president to fall under the restrictions of the Two Terms Only 22^nd Amendment, passed in 1951.

Winding Down

Few people were aware of Ike’s major problem: his health. In his entire military career, he never spent a day in combat, but his health brought him to the edge numerous times. Besides that screwed up knee, he had five heart attacks, one stroke, surgery due to Chrohn’s disease, malaria, tuberculosis, high blood pressure, spinal malformation, shingles, neuritis, and bronchitis. Medical records were guarded – neither a Supreme Commander nor a US President dares show any sign of weakness. He died of heart failure March 28, 1969 at the age of 78 in Walter Reed Hospital.

Mamie lived another 10 years after Ike’s death, staying on at the Gettysburg farm. She and Ike had eight years together there after leaving the White House. She died of a stroke at Walter Reed Hospital November 1, 1979 at the age of 83; she and Ike are buried side by side at the Eisenhower National Museum & Library in Abilene, Kansas.

I went to high school, got married, and had kids during Ike’s presidency; the thing I most remember was his role in 1957 when he sent Army troops to enforce federal court orders integrating Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas – I drive by the Memorial to the Little Rock Nine whenever I go downtown today. Both my brothers were in high school when Sputnik was launched; their entire careers were molded by Ike’s creation of NASA and the establishment of a stronger, science-based education via the National Defense Education Act.

Would I invite Ike and Mamie to my party? I don’t think so. I wore the Ike button back then. Ike and Mamie were the residents during my first tourist-visit to the White House in 1953. But it would be stressful to talk about. Too much heartache behind the glory.

#33. Truman, Harry S

Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas – Harry S Truman (1884-1972) was the 33^rd President of the United States, from 1945 to 1953. His inauguration was the seventh emergency presidential swearing in. Harry, as Vice-President , had just adjourned a session of the Senate and was headed for a drink with Sam Rayburn, then Speaker of the House, when he got a call to “Come to the White House.” He was met there by First Lady Eleanor, who informed him that “President Roosevelt is dead.” Harry asked Eleanor “Is there anything I can do for you?” And Eleanor wisely replied “Is there anything we can do for you? You are the one in trouble now.”

At 7:09 PM on Thursday, April 12, 1945, in the Cabinet Room at the White House, Chief Justice Harlan Stone administered the oath of office, beginning “Do you, Harry Shipp Truman…” to which Harry replied “I Harry S Truman…” before the oath continued. The ceremony lasted about a minute, after which Harry kissed the Bible. First Lady Eleanor was there, of course; and new First Lady Bess and daughter Margaret. Sam Rayburn, and members of the cabinet were there. This was the second inauguration in 1945; Franklin had been sworn in for his fourth term January 20; Harry was Vice President for a total of 82 days.

How To?

Those 82 days had not been training days for “how to be President” either; even though the United States was immersed in war, and Franklin’s health was failing, he didn’t take Harry into his confidence; in fact they only met alone two times. Harry was told nothing about the Manhattan Project, aka, the atomic bomb being built in secrecy. As well as a few other things a President might need to know. So Harry had to face his new job straight on, and he began right there with the oath. You see, his name was NOT Harry Shipp Truman, it really was “Harry S.” His grandfathers were Shipp Truman and Solomon Young, so Mom and Dad decided on “just S” to honor both. Harry gained another name over his years in the public arena, and that was “Give’em Hell Harry,” but I’m getting ahead of the story.

Harry S was the oldest of John Anderson and Martha Young Truman’s three children; he was born in Lamar, Missouri May 8, 1884. John was a farmer and livestock dealer. The next two children, John Vivian and Mary Jane, were born as the family moved several times in Missouri; Harrisonville, Belton, Grandview, and then Independence, where Harry attended Presbyterian Church School. At the age of seven, he began piano lessons, getting up at 5 AM to practice; something he continued for the next eight years, becoming a skilled piano player. Harry served as a Shabbos goy for his Jewish neighbors in Independence, doing tasks for them on Shabbat that their religion prevented them from doing on that day. In 1900, at the age of 16, he worked as a page at the Democratic National Convention in Kansas; his father had friends in the Democratic Party who helped Harry get that opportunity. Harry graduated high school in Independence in 1901; then took classes at business school learning bookkeeping and typing; he worked in the mailroom of the Kansas City Star for a while.

His next job gave him training in, shall we say, “vocabulary” which served him over the years in rather interesting ways. He got a job as timekeeper for construction crews on the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway, and slept in workmen’s camps along the rail lines. That’s where Harry learned to cuss. (Remember that.) Harry considered going to West Point, but was refused due to poor eyesight. So he enlisted in the Missouri National Guard in 1905 (age 21) and served until 1911, attaining the rank of corporal. How did he get in? He failed the first eye test, deemed “legally blind.” So he took the test again. This time he had memorized the eye chart.

Fast Forward to World War I

When the United States entered World War I on April 6, 1917, Harry, now 33, rejoined the Guard. He’d had farming and clerical jobs over the years, not particularly challenging; but he really hit the mark with the military. That’s where he became a leader. He successfully recruited new soldiers for his unit, Battery D, and was elected as their first lieutenant. By mid-1918, about one million soldiers of the American Expeditionary Forces were in France, and Harry, now a captain, became commander of the newly arrived Battery D, 129^th Field Artillery, 35^th Division. Remember what I said about Harry’s vocabulary? One bit of Army lore about Battery D in France is called The Battle of Who Run, it goes like this: During a surprise nighttime attack by the Germans in the Vosges Mountains, the men started to flee. Harry ordered them back, using those “colorful words” from his railroad days. The men were so surprised to hear such language from him they immediately obeyed. Battery D provided support for George Patton’s tank brigade, and fired some of the last shots of the war on November 11, 1918. Harry’s unit did not lose any men under his command; his leadership was honored; on their return to the States, his men presented him with a loving cup.

Loving Bess. And Margaret

Elizabeth Virginia Wallace (Bess) was born February 13, 1885, in Independence, Missouri, to Margaret Elizabeth and David Willock Wallace. Bess (Bessie as a child) had three younger brothers and was a bit of a tomboy; she pursued golf, tennis, riding, basketball, ice skating; she danced at town balls and went on hayrides. And then. Her father committed suicide. She was 18 when it happened; the event was a major scandal; the family hid in Colorado for a year. Bess’s mother became a recluse, Bess cared for her the rest of her life. Bess also took the responsibility of raising her brothers; they lived in their grandparent’s house. She did go to a finishing school; and she did become “fashionable” (she loved hats, in particular). But she determined to keep her father’s actions a secret and never spoke of him again. Put this background onto the role of “First Lady” that would be hers in 1945, maybe it explains her absolute refusal of publicity.

Harry and Bess met in school when they were quite young. But socially, they traveled in different circles. Nevertheless, Harry proposed in 1911; Bess turned him down. And yet, in 1917, before Harry left for France, Bess wanted to get married; this time Harry refused, saying he would not risk making her a young widow. They finally married June 28, 1919 in Independence; after a short honeymoon they moved into Bess’s childhood home so she could continue caring for her mother. Bess had two miscarriages before daughter Margaret was born in 1924. And all the while Bess tried to “teach Harry some etiquette” – in particular, refining that “colorful language.” Harry, meanwhile, kinda-sorta spoiled his little girl.

Eventually, Politics

You know about the haberdashery Harry opened after the war? It gave him another nickname as well as Give’em Hell Harry – the Haberdasher. It also contributed to his sense of style; he was always well dressed. By 1922 (age 38) however, he became a county judge; in 1934 he was elected to the US Senate; and between 1940-1944 gained prominence as chairman of the Truman Committee, aimed at reducing waste in wartime contracts. And it was that position that landed him on the Democratic ticket in 1944 as a Vice Presidential candidate. Franklin Roosevelt was a shoo-in for his fourth term; but due to his failing health, the Party considered his current VP Henry Wallace too eccentric and left wing to be a suitable president (should there be a need). Harry’s name was out there; Franklin didn’t know him but reluctantly agreed to the switch. Election Results in 1944 you already know. And then, those 82 days.

1945

When Harry took the oath of office the evening of April 12, he also took on the weight of US involvement in war to the east and war to the west. Did he sleep that evening, I wonder? The next day Secretary of War Henry Stimson told him that a new weapon was being built that was capable of destroying the world. How’s that for an after-breakfast surprise, first day on the job?

“The buck stops here.” Harry became famous over time for the sign on his desk clearly stating where he believed a president’s responsibility lay. HERE. Maybe he wore thick-rimmed glasses, but he could see the path; he gathered information; he analyzed; he consulted; and, he made some very, very, tough decisions. 1945 passed like a whirlwind.

• Day 1: April 12 Harry Truman sworn in
• Day 2: April 13 Sec of War advises Harry of Manhattan Project
• Day 25: May 7 Harry and Bess move into the White House, after leaving Eleanor time to vacate
• Day 25: May 7 Nazi Germany signed unconditional surrender in Reims, France
• Day 26: May 8 VE Day Celebrated
• Day 96 Jul 17 Harry learns of successful test of atomic bomb while attending Big Three summit conference in Potsdam, Germany, gives his approval to use it
• Day 116 Aug 6 Atomic Bomb Little Boy Dropped on Hiroshima
• Day 119 Aug 9 Atomic Bomb Fat Man Dropped on Nagasaki
• Day 125 Aug 15 VJ Day Japan surrenders
• Day 143 Sep 2 Japan signs official surrender aboard USS Missouri; Harry Truman makes speech from the White House.

Did you catch that? The USS Missouri.

Now The Hard Stuff Really Begins

Abe Lincoln had to deal with war during his presidency. But he missed the aftermath; that bucket of snakes fell into Andrew Johnson’s lap. Not so with Harry; he was faced with war and then the transition from war to a peacetime economy. Price controls were ending; inflation was soaring. Railroad strikes, labor unions, general bedlam; Harry’s approval rating dropped from 82% to 52% to 32%. Senator Fullbright suggested Harry resign; colorful Harry said he did not care what “Senator Halfbright” said.

In one of the most “off the mark” polling errors ever made, resulting in one of the most GLOATABLE moments of newspaper error, “Dewey Defeats Truman” ran on the front page of the Chicago Daily Tribune November 3, 1948, the day after Harry won an upset victory over Thomas Dewey. See that Presidential smile. I was old enough that year to laugh about it too!

But in fact, the next four years were even more stressful. Harry presided over the onset of the Cold War in 1947. He oversaw the Berlin Airlift and Marshall Plan in 1948. Domestically, Harry proposed that Congress pass comprehensive civil rights legislation. Congress refused, so he issued Executive Order 9980 and Executive Order 9981, which prohibited discrimination in federal agencies and desegregated the US Armed Forces. Though Harry was eligible for reelection in 1952, he chose not to run.

Get Me Outta Here

Bess never liked traditional First Lady duties; she refused publicity so daughter Margaret fielded many of the hostessing responsibilities. The White House staff enjoyed having the Trumans around; they affectionately called the trio – Harry, Bess and Margaret – the Three Musketeers. Bess would chide Harry when he lost his temper; “you didn’t have to say that” became an inside joke among White House staff. In 1948, engineering investigations deemed the White House “unsafe for occupancy” due to structural deterioration; Harry, Bess and staff were relocated across the street to Blair House from 1949 to 1952.

On January 20, 1953, with the inauguration of Dwight Eisenhower and Richard Nixon, the Trumans headed back to Missouri, and the home Bess grew up in. Harry wrote his memoirs. Upon turning 80 in 1964, Harry was feted in Washington, and addressed the Senate, availing himself of a new rule that allowed former presidents to be granted privilege of the floor. After a fall at his home later that year, his physical condition declined. In 1965, when President Lyndon Johnson signed the Medicare bill at the Truman Presidential Library, he gave the first two Medicare cards to Harry and to Bess, to honor Harry’s fight for government health care while in office.

Harry died of pneumonia December 5, 1972, at the age of 88. Bess chose a simple private service at the library; a memorial service was held at the Washington National Cathedral a week later. Bess died in 1982 and is buried next to Harry; she lived to 97 and to this day is the longest-lived First Lady.

Daughter Margaret? Quite a lady! She was a classical soprano, actress, journalist, radio and TV personality, and writer; married to Clifton Daniels, managing editor of the New York Times; together they had four sons. Margaret gave two precious gifts to her Mom and Dad – grandkids, and she wrote their biographies.

About the party? Well yes, if Harry will agree to play the piano.

#32. Roosevelt, Franklin Delano

Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas –Franklin Delano Roosevelt (1882 –1945) was the 32^nd president of the United States from 1933 until his death in 1945; First Lady Eleanor the same. Yes, that’s a very long time; longer than any president before or since. And, I’d say, the Franklin and Eleanor team stirred up more gossip than any team ever. Yet both Franklin and Eleanor are highly revered today, ranking right up there with George, and Abe, and well, humanity in general. When my grandkids were little I once drew an M on a piece of paper and laid it on the floor. I had one stand on one side, and one on the other. “What letter do you see? “ I asked. One saw an M, one saw a W, and then I explained point of view to them. Let’s use that tactic in looking at the Roosevelts; they were what they were, and they did what they did. And what they did impacts our lives tremendously to this very day. How many things in their own lives were beyond their control? And how many were within? As always, let’s start at the beginning.

In The Nest With Mother

Franklin Delano Roosevelt was born January 30, 1882 in Hyde Park, New York, to James Roosevelt, age 54, and his second wife, Sara Ann Delano, age 28. His parents were sixth cousins; both from wealthy New York families. James had another son by his first wife (who had died) – James Roosevelt Roosevelt, who was called Rosy. Rosy was married to Helen Astor (of the Astor family) and in 1882, when Franklin was born, Rosy and Helen had two children – James Roosevelt Roosevelt Jr, called Tadd, age 3, and Helen, age 1. So Franklin’s half-brother was 28 (same age as his mother), and his nephew and niece were little playmates. Franklin was 18 when his father died; his mother never remarried. “You are a Delano, not a Roosevelt” she impressed on Franklin from the beginning. So there’s that. The photo of Franklin at age 2 shows him dressed in the style for wealthy young boys of the time – unbreeched – meaning no britches yet.

Anna Eleanor Roosevelt was born October 11, 1884 in Manhattan to socialites Anna Rebecca Hall and Elliott Roosevelt. Elliot was the younger brother of Theodore Roosevelt (our 26^th president), so that makes Eleanor Theodore’s niece. Eleanor had two younger brothers, Elliot Jr and Hall, and a half-brother, Elliott Roosevelt Mann through her father’s affair with Katy Mann, a family servant. Keeping up? The family was immensely wealthy; a part of NY society called the “swells.” Eleanor’s mother was, it is reported, “somewhat ashamed of Eleanor’s plainness,” and called her “Granny” she was so serious in nature. The photo of Eleanor at age 3 shows a serious little girl. Eleanor was 8 when her mother died from diphtheria; her brother Elliot Jr died a few months later of the same disease. Eleanor was 10 when her father died; an alcoholic confined to a sanitarium, he jumped from a window during a fit of delirium tremens, survived the fall, then died from a seizure.

Before. And Then They Married

Franklin played polo and tennis and golf; he learned to ride, shoot, and sail. He made many trips to Europe and could speak German and French; he was home schooled by tutors until 14, then sent to boarding school in Groton, Massachusetts. College was Harvard; he was editor of the Harvard Crimson, a school cheerleader, a member of Alpha Delta Phi. Franklin graduated in 1903 with a degree in history; then Columbia Law School; he dropped out when he passed the New York Bar exam and took a job with a prestigious law firm. Set.

Eleanor went to live with her grandmother Mary Hall in Tivoli, New York after her mother died, where she was tutored privately. At 15 she was sent to finishing school in London. She liked it and did well there; she learned to speak French fluently and “was beloved” by her friends. Her grandmother summoned her home in 1902 (age 18) to make her “social debut.” About her debutante ball at the Waldorf-Astoria and her “coming out” party, she wrote “It was simply awful. I had no friends here. I was miserable.”

Remember now, Franklin and Eleanor were cousins, fifth cousins once removed to be exact. And they were childhood acquaintances. In 1903 Franklin (age 21 by now), who had already proposed to one person who turned him down, began courting Eleanor (19 and unhappy). They were married March 17, 1905, against much resistance from Franklin’s mother. The wedding was at a cousin’s house on East 6^th in New York, both branches of Roosevelts attended. The bridesmaids carried pink roses, symbolic of the Roosevelt crest; Theodore Roosevelt gave his niece away. The March 17 wedding date was no accident; Theodore had just been inaugurated for his second term as President, and would be in town to make an appearance at the St Patrick’s Day parade that morning (60,000 people); then he could give the bride away, entertain guests at the reception, and in the evening give an after-dinner speech to 600 Irish-Americans at Delmonico’s. Eleanor and Franklin headed for a honeymoon at Hyde Park.

Houses. Mother Included

The Hyde Park house, Springwood, was Franklin’s home, with mother Sara running the household. Sara generously gave Franklin and Eleanor a townhouse in New York, with one for herself alongside, sliding doors between; she also gave them a cottage at Campobello, a family property near the Maine-Canadian border. And Eleanor began having babies. 1906 Anna. 1907 James. 1909 Franklin (who died in infancy). 1910 Elliot. 1914 Franklin Jr. 1916 John. Sara not only managed all the households, she oversaw her grandchildren too, telling them, as James recalled “Your mother only bore you, I am more your mother than your mother is.” Writings exist in which Eleanor confided that  she “hated living in a house that was in no way hers;” she “disliked sex with her husband but it was an ordeal to be borne;” and “it did not come naturally to me to understand or enjoy little children.” Well then.

Franklin left all matters of childcare and household management to his mother; he didn’t care for the practice of law either, so stuck his toe into the New York political swirl throwing his support in whichever was the most advantageous direction; even opposing his relative Theodore at one time. In March 1913 his support of Woodrow Wilson landed him an appointment as Assistant Secretary of the Navy; he liked that; he stayed seven years. After the November 1918 Armistice, he was involved in the demobilization of the Navy.

Meanwhile, back at Hyde Park, Eleanor discovered “the letters.” This story is pretty well verified and generally goes like this: in September 1918 Eleanor discovered a “bundle of love letters” from her social secretary Lucy Mercer to Franklin. Clearly Franklin wanted to divorce Eleanor and marry Lucy. Guess who stepped in? Mother. Sara flatly threatened to disinherit Franklin if he jeopardized his career by getting a divorce. The good news for Eleanor? She woke up, finally asserting herself. No more docile-stay-at-home-wife. She basically told Sara, and Franklin, well, you know. I’ll stay, but on my terms.

From Then On

Franklin never had a home of his own without his mother, until her death in 1941. Was Sara a domineering mother-in-law, a doting grandmother, or just a smart career strategist? One thing happened that was way beyond Sara’s control – in August of 1921, as the family was vacationing at Campobello, Franklin got sick, and was diagnosed with polio. At the age of 39, his legs were permanently paralyzed. Sara wanted him to retire. Eleanor said NO. She nursed him. Most of Eleanor’s legacy focuses on all the things she accomplished as a strong and intelligent humanitarian, even after Franklin’s death. How did Eleanor’s support contribute to Franklin’s future?

In 1920 Franklin’s attempts to hook up with somebody on a presidential ticket didn’t work out; then he got sick. Through political connections and alliances he stayed on stage; he also discovered the therapeutic waters in Warm Springs, Georgia. In 1928 the Democratic presidential nominee Al Smith asked him to run for governor of New York. Al lost; Franklin won. Now he could speak from an important governor’s chair. When the stock market crashed in 1929 and the Great Depression began, his ideas about aid to farmers, full employment, and old-age pensions were heard, loud and clear. One more term as NY governor.

One. Two. Three. Four.

And then. Four terms as an elected president. Look at these election results.

• In 1932 the Depression Years: Franklin Delano Roosevelt became the 32nd President of the United States receiving 7,050,737 more Popular Votes than his opponent. Electoral Votes: 472 to 59.
• In 1936 the Depression Years: Franklin Delano Roosevelt remained the 32nd President of the United States receiving 11,078,204 more Popular Votes than his opponent. Electoral Votes: 523 to 8.
• In 1940 the War Years: Franklin Delano Roosevelt remained the 32nd President of the United States receiving 4,986,801 more Popular Votes than his opponent. Electoral Votes: 449-to 82.
• In 1944 the War Years: Franklin Delano Roosevelt remained the 32nd President of the United States receiving 3,591,840 more Popular Votes than his opponent. Electoral Votes: 432 to 99.

However Eleanor felt about the guy, and however tacky he was to her, in the public arena he was a god; a savior. Whatever his personal reasons for what he did (Big heart or big ego? Great wealth but inability to walk or stand and never-ending pain?), millions of people continue to benefit in uncountable ways due to programs he instigated. Nowadays I receive my social security check every month, direct deposit. The first job my Dad ever had, way back in 1937, was a job with the WPA, keeping books for a housing project being built, so I guess the first bite I ever ate was thanks to Franklin. I have vacationed in huge lodges in parks around the country and been to community meetings in tiny Scout huts in small towns; all built by the CCC. I learned to waterski on a TVA lake; my first job was with the Tennessee Valley Authority. And oh yes, at the age of one I sat in my stroller and watched President Roosevelt’s wheelchair roll up a special-built ramp into the Methodist Church in my home town; he’d come to the funeral of Senator Bankhead. The wood that went into that ramp was burned afterwards, to prevent bystanders from taking home souvenirs. That’s pretty close to hero-worship, wouldn’t you say?

On The Other Hand

But many criticisms are out there too; entire towns were displaced for the building of the TVA dams; private electric companies claimed the government’s involvement in the power business was unconstitutional. And the Social Security tax was NOT welcomed at the time; there is a long list opposing the “take-over” mode of governing, including his ordering of the internment of Japanese-Americans during the war. Then there’s his seriously “big-lie coverup” to Eleanor. When he died April 12, 1945 at his cottage in Warm Springs, Georgia, guess who was there? Lucy Mercer, although he’d promised way back in 1918 that he’d never see her again! Eleanor found out, and the hurt was doubled to learn that their daughter Anna had been in on the hush-hush meetings over the years.

As for Eleanor, she was a darned good First Lady, by then she knew a thing or two about being in the public eye. In her first year she  determined to match Franklin’s presidential salary and earned $75,000 from her lectures and writing (which she gave to charity). She maintained a heavy travel schedule, making sure Depression-era workers knew the White House understood their plight; a New Yorker cartoon showed an astonished coal miner peering down a dark tunnel saying “For gosh sakes, here comes Mrs Roosevelt!”

Franklin is buried in Hyde Park at Springwood (d 1945, age 63), with Eleanor beside (d 1962, age 78). It’s now the Franklin Roosevelt National Memorial site. Sara (d 1941, age 87) is buried about three miles away in St Paul’s Episcopal cemetery, next to her husband. She left behind an estate of over $13 million. Game over. The Roosevelt kids have written some pretty awful stuff about their family life – both Franklin’s and Eleanor’s suspected affairs with women; their coldness as parents. I consider: what really matters when we select a president? Do we care what they do, or only what they do for us?

As to the question “Would I invite Franklin, and/or Eleanor, to a party?” I’ve walked through the Warm Springs Little White House. I’ve sat on the bench in that Methodist Church in my home town where Franklin sat. I’ve had a special tour of the secret invisible door in the NY capitol in Albany which was cut so Franklin could move between his working office and his ceremonial office without being seen in the hallway in his wheelchair. I’ve seen the memorial to Eleanor in the UN building. I’ve been to Hyde Park. I empathize with their tribulations.

I think that’s enough.

#31. Hoover, Herbert Clark

Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas – Herbert Clark Hoover (1874 –1964) was the 31^st President of the United States from 1929-1933. Not re-elected, and ranked towards the tail-end of “good presidents” in this day and age, the guy pretty much gets the blame for the Great Depression, which began during his presidency. Many of us still feel the aftermath of “Depression Era” parenting: Clean your plate! People are starving! and a rash of frugalities that lingered in the memories of those who saw the “Hooverville” shantytowns and lived in fear of winding up there themselves. So how bad WAS Herbert Hoover, as a decision-making human being? From what I’m learning about the guy, I’d call him an Indiana Jones! Hat, jacket, trail blazing spirit, the works! For 55 years before those four years in the White House, and 31 after, Herbert did so many different things in so many daring and innovative ways, I see only one other person that was his match. And that was Lou Henry, the woman he married. You’re going to like this story. Make note: Herbert’s name is right there in the Australian Prospectors and Miners’ Hall of Fame. It’s also in the US National Mining Hall of Fame, and so is his wife’s, Lou Henry Hoover.

Did I Say Mining?

Yes, I did. Herbert got rich, I mean, very rich, as a mining engineer. Just how that happened is story enough. Herbert was born in West Branch, Iowa August 10, 1874, the middle child of Jesse and Hulda Minthorn Hoover. This was a Quaker community; Jesse was a blacksmith; “horse shoeing and plow work a specialty” said his ad in the paper; he usually added a joke or two. He sold all kinds of farm equipment, as well as buggies and sewing machines. And then in 1880 he died of pneumonia and heart failure at the age of 34. Hulda saved Jesse’s insurance policy for the children’s schooling; she supported them by sewing and renting to boarders. As a Quaker minister, she traveled to Friend’s Societies throughout the state to preach. And then she died from typhoid fever at the age of 35. The year was 1884.

Theodore (13), Herbert (10), and Mary (8), were orphans. The children were split; Theodore went to live with an uncle who offered to teach him about farming; Herbert (standing in the photo) wound up with a different uncle for a short while, until Uncle John Minthorn in Oregon, who had just lost a son, agreed to take him in. Little Mary, after some shuttling about in Iowa, was sent to live with her grandmother Mary Minthorn, also in Oregon. It didn’t take Theodore long to decide farming wasn’t for him; with a brother and sister already in Oregon, he determined to “go west where the future was” and by 1887 was sharing a room with Herbert at Friend’s Pacific Academy in Newberg, Oregon; Uncle John Minthorn was superintendent there. The brothers were back together, and eventually, all three children wound up graduating from Stanford University. Yes, they did.

Did I Say Stanford?

Herbert was a member of the inaugural “Pioneer Class” of Stanford University in 1891. He didn’t care much for the fraternity lifestyle, but he did serve as student manager of both the baseball and football teams. And he chose geology for his major after working for John Casper Branner, the chairman of Stanford’s geology department. During the summers before and after his senior year, he interned under economic geologist Waldemar Lindgren of the United States Geological Survey. That led to his career choice as a mining geologist. Another thing of major importance happened at Stanford. He met Lou Henry.

Lou Henry was born March 29, 1874 in Waterloo, Iowa; her mother Florence was a teacher, her father Charles a banker. She and her sister grew up moving westward, living in Texas, Kansas, and then California. She learned how to camp, and ride; she loved sports, and science. And then, she happened to attend a lecture by geologist John Casper Branner. Fascinating! She enrolled at Stanford to pursue a degree in geology.

Well then. Of course Herbert and Lou bonded. Both from Iowa. Both loved the out of doors, and sports, and science. Both got degrees in geology; Herbert in 1895, the first Stanford graduating class; Lou in 1898, the first woman ever to receive a degree in geology.

And Off To Work We Go

Herbert started with some low-level mining jobs in the Sierra Nevadas; he was a mine scout for a year. Then he was hired by Bewick, a London-based company that operated gold mines in Western Australia; they paid him a salary of $5,000 a year ($187,000 today) and sent him to Coolgardie, the center of the goldfields. Herbert described the rangelands of the Great Victoria Desert as a land of “black flies, red dust, and white heat.” He traveled constantly, evaluating and managing the mines; he convinced the company to purchase the Sons of Gwalia mine, one of the richest the company would own. He was promoted to junior partner and in 1898 given a chance to go to China.

But wait. Yes, he kept up a correspondence with Lou. They’d had an informal arrangement from the time he left the US in 1897. When he was hired as chief engineer of the Chinese Engineering and Mining Company, he cabled her “Going to China via San Francisco. Will you go with me?” They were married February 10, 1899 at her parent’s home in Monterey; the next day they boarded a ship in San Francisco, reading extensively about China and its history as they traveled. Their ship arrived in Shanghai March 8.

Herbert began developing gold mines near Tianjin (Tientsin) on behalf of Bewick and the Chinese-owned mining company. Lou stayed with a missionary couple at first while Herbert was out working; she picked up the language fast. By September they had their own home at the edge of the colony. Lou purchased a typewriter and began writing scientific articles on Chinese mining, working closely with Herbert through both writing and field work. In November their safety was threatened by the beginnings of the Boxer Rebellion, an uprising to drive foreigners out. Herbert wanted Lou to leave; she would not. During the Battle of Tientsin she worked as a nurse; she rode a bike to take supplies to soldiers, carrying a revolver along with the supplies. In one incident a bullet struck her tire, in another shells struck their home; an obituary was mistakenly printed about her. Herbert and Lou left China in 1901 soon after the Rebellion ended; Bewick called him to London as a new operating partner.

Around The World Rich and Famous

Son Herbert Jr was born in 1903, son Allan in 1907. Herbert’s work with Bewick took him to many countries throughout Europe and beyond – Australia, Burma, Ceylon, Egypt, India, Japan, New Zealand, Russia – Lou and the boys traveled too; by the time Herbert Jr was two he’d been around the world twice. In 1908 Herbert sold his shares in the company and became an independent mining consultant specializing in troubled mining operations; he called himself a “doctor of sick mines.” Herbert’s lectures at Columbia and Stanford were published in 1909 as Principles of Mining, which became a standard textbook.

Lou’s expertise in geology had her fully participating with Herbert and his colleagues; she took the lead in translating into English a 16^th century work by German Georgius Agricola, De Re Metallica (The Nature of Metals). In 1912 she and Herbert published the translation, detailing the history of mining laws and safety; they donated the book to students, and mining experts. Together the Hoovers played a huge role in standardizing modern mining operations. With investments on every continent, and offices in San Francisco, London, New York, Paris, Petrograd, and Mandalay, by 1914 the Hoovers personal fortune was estimated at $4 million ($122 million today).

So How Did We Get Into Politics?

Herbert’s comment (later): “I did not realize it at the moment, but on August 3, 1914 my career was over forever. I was on the slippery road of public life.” What happened? World War I. Germany invaded Belgium. Herbert immediately organized assistance for American travelers fleeing the war. By October food supplies in Belgium were nearly exhausted. American ambassadors persuaded the British to allow the importation of food under American supervision; Herbert was asked to lead the project. He established the Commission for Relief in Belgium (CRB), working 14-hour days from London, administering the distribution of over two million tons of food to nine million war victims in German-occupied Belgium. He crossed the North Sea forty times to meet with German authorities and persuade them to allow shipments; he helped ensure the German army did not appropriate the food.

In 1917 the United States entered the war and the Hoovers returned stateside. President Wilson appointed Herbert head of the new US Food Administration. Remember those “Meatless Mondays” and “Wheatless Wednesdays” during Wilson’s term? That was Herbert’s idea, to help conserve food supplies. After the Armistice was signed in November 1918, President Wilson appointed Herbert to head the American Relief Administration; he channeled 34-million tons of American food, clothing and supplies to the starving millions in war-torn Europe, preventing the collapse of the Allied Powers. Herbert gained a following in the US as an expert administrator and symbol of efficiency.

On To The Presidency

Next up, Secretary of Commerce under Presidents Warren Harding and Calvin Coolidge. Herbert was an unusually active Cabinet member, known as “Secretary of Commerce and Under-Secretary of all other departments.” He won the Republican nomination in the 1928 presidential election and defeated Democratic candidate Al Smith in a landslide.

March 4, 1929, Herbert was sworn in by Chief Justice (and former President) Taft; yes there was a celebratory parade and numerous inaugural balls around the city. And then, October 28, the stock market crashed. The “Great Depression” dominated Herbert’s presidency to the end. He was decisively defeated by Franklin Roosevelt in 1932.

Herbert and Lou retired to Palo Alto in 1933 but maintained an apartment in New York. Lou died of a heart attack January 7, 1944 in New York at the age of 69. Herbert lived another 20 years; he died in New York October 20, 1964 at the age of 90, following several illnesses. He was honored with a state funeral; Presidents Johnson, Truman and Eisenhower attended. He and Lou are buried in West Branch, Iowa today, on the grounds of the Herbert Hoover National Historic Site.

Much of the humanitarian work Lou did only came to light after Herbert’s death; and much of what he knew he didn’t uncover until after her death. She believed that private charity was preferable to public assistance; she opposed publicized philanthropy and gave funds to the needy throughout her lifetime without telling others. During her four years as First Lady, she refrained from hostessing lavish parties and instead invited individuals to dine with them; she erased traditional boundaries of “who was acceptable” to enter White House doors. She refused press conferences, making speeches via radio, directly to the public. She carefully restored many rooms in the White House using her own funds.

She, and Herbert, were bruised by the negativity that settled over the Hoover name during those “bad times” early thirties. Herbert’s name shined up again in later years; he had ideas that both Truman, and then Eisenhower, made use of; they asked him to head the Hoover Commission, a massive study into reducing government waste and increasing efficiency. Both Herbert and Lou strongly opposed Roosevelt and the New Deal; they believed in the strength and resiliency of the individual. After all, remember, Herbert started out as an orphan with a suitcase.

I haven’t asked the question yet – would I invite Herbert, and Lou, to a party at my house? You already know the answer.

#30. Coolidge, Calvin

Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas – John Calvin Coolidge Jr. (1872-1933) was the 30^th President of the United States from 1923 to 1929. His inauguration was the sixth emergency presidential swearing-in; it was the most remote, and I daresay calmest, ever. The time was 2:47 AM on Friday, August 3, 1923; the place was Plymouth Notch, Vermont. VP Calvin and Second Lady Grace Coolidge were taking a few days off to visit his father there in the peaceful Green Mountains; the house (purposefully) had no electricity, and no telephone.

Three thousand miles away in San Francisco, amid the clang of cable cars and the harried push of campaign strategizing, President Warren Harding lay dead. Doctors verified his time of death as 7:20 PM August 2 (that’s 10:20 Eastern); cause of death has not, to this day, been agreed upon, as First Lady Florence refused an autopsy. But somehow, in the confusion of the moment, a telegram was sent to the Vice President. The telegram arrived at White River Junction in Vermont, 29 miles from the Notch; it was the only Western Union office in the area open in the middle of the night. From there a phone message was sent to Bridgewater; the operator in Bridgewater couldn’t get a call through to the Notch; the only phone there was in the General Store and it, of course, was closed. So the operator’s husband drove the 11 miles in his Model T and managed to awaken the storekeeper; the two walked across the street to the Coolidge house and pounded on the door. John Coolidge received the news, then walked upstairs to tell his son he was now president of the United States.

This story sounds like a Hallmark movie waiting to be made; in fact, in 2023, exactly 100 years after it actually happened, Christopher Coolidge Jeter and Jennifer Coolidge Harville, great-grandson and great-granddaughter of Calvin and Grace Coolidge, reenacted the event, down to the minute. Vermont’s former governor James Douglas portrayed Calvin’s father. And today, you can visit the entire community of Plymouth Notch and relive that bit of history yourself – the house, the store, and the cemetery where generations of the Coolidge family rest.

But back to that day.

As the story goes, on hearing the news, Calvin and Grace said a prayer together, got dressed, and went downstairs. Calvin ordered that a telegram of condolence be sent to Florence Harding. He reviewed the Constitution to be sure he took the oath legally. He walked across the street and called Secretary of State Charles Evans Hughes for more verification. It was agreed that Calvin’s father John, who was a notary public, could administer the oath. People began to gather in the parlor – the storekeeper, you think? The driver of the Model T who brought the message? US Representative Porter Dale was there; he’d been out campaigning when he heard the news of Harding’s death; he grabbed reporter Joe Fountain and rushed to the Notch to offer assistance. Joe got a fame-making story that day.

At exactly 2:47 AM, by the light of a kerosene lamp, 79-year-old John Coolidge raised his right hand and read the oath of office to his 51-year-old son. Calvin Coolidge raised his right hand, placed his left beside his mother’s Bible, and repeated the oath, becoming, officially, the 30th president of the United States. And then, it is said, Calvin went back to bed.

Two who missed the swearing in were sons John, 17, who was at military camp, and Calvin Jr, 15, who was working a summer job in the tobacco fields. John learned the news as he waited in line for breakfast. He proceeded to eat. Calvin Jr. was working in the fields when he was told his father was now president. And he kept working.

How Calvin, and his father, and his wife, and his sons, reacted to their new roles in those moments speaks volumes about how they’d lived their lives thus far, and how they dealt with the next six years of responsibility and public scrutiny.

Those Growing Up Years

John Calvin Coolidge Jr. was born July 4, 1872, in the small community of Plymouth Notch, Vermont, the elder of the two children of John Calvin Coolidge Sr and Victoria Moor Coolidge. Calvin’s father (John Calvin Sr, we’ll refer to him as John) was a solid man with a good reputation; he was a farmer, and storekeeper. His public service included terms in the Vermont Assembly; locally he was postmaster, tax collector, and yes, justice of the peace. Calvin grew up helping out in the store and working on the farm; a peaceful childhood, about which he later wrote: “Country life does not always have breadth, but it has depth. It is neither artificial nor superficial, but is kept close to the realities.”

Schooling for Calvin included the Black River Academy in Vermont (Latin, Greek, history, math) where at 18, he made his first public speech as part of the graduation ceremony. The speech? Oratory in History, how public speaking has influenced the course of history. After a year at Vermont’s St Johns Academy for additional college prep, Calvin entered Amherst College, 100 miles to the south of the Notch in Massachusetts.

Three important things to know about Calvin’s experience at Amherst:

1. His philosophy teacher Charles Garman and his beliefs.
2. The essay contest and the national gold medal.
3. Being chosen by his classmates to be Grove Orator at Commencement.

Now let me explain – I’ll start with the last first. “Grove Orator” meant – you’ve got to make your audience LAUGH. And Calvin did that. Calvin Coolidge was known throughout his public life as “Silent Cal” referring to his New England stoicism and dry wit. So many stories have been told about him – fanciful, humorous, and possibly true. (The most famous unproven story during White House years: A fellow sat down next to Calvin at a fancy dinner and said “I’ve just made a bet that I can get more than three words out of you.” Calvin replied “You lose.”) But the fact is, no matter how solemn his expression, and sparse his words, Calvin was able to make people laugh. 

As for #2,  the essay contest was open to college seniors across the country, sponsored by the National Society of the Sons of the American Revolution. Calvin’s entry won the national First Prize! He received a gold medal for the honor, but the real prize was the confidence it gave him with regard to his writing abilities. Calvin included that essay in his book The Price of Freedom in 1924. Calvin was able to get ideas across via the written word.

The #1 thing on that list – the influence of teacher Charles Garman, well, now we’re going beyond skills to beliefs. Charles Garman taught neo-Hegelian philosophy, something in vogue beginning at the end of the 19^th century in various countries. In the US it was more pragmatic than philosophical; promoting the idea that “speculative thought” should connect to the requirements of practical life. This notion set the course for Calvin’s future. Calvin was able to deal with what was, and then, duty done, go to bed and sleep.

All Grown Up And Now There’s Grace

On the 26th day of June 1895, Calvin Coolidge graduated from Amherst. He worked on the farm through the summer, thinking about law school next. His father suggested he simply “read law” with an established firm and then apply for the bar; he quickly found a place in Northampton, Massachusetts, which would wind up being his new “hometown” for years ahead.

Northampton had another “Green Mountain” Vermonter who had migrated south. Born January 3, 1879 in Burlington, Grace Anna Goodhue was the only child of Andrew and Lemira Barrett Goodhue. While very young she learned of the Clarke School for the Deaf in Northampton, and decided she’d like to teach there someday. And she did; after graduating from the University of Vermont in 1902 she moved to Northampton, where she taught deaf children to communicate by lip reading, rather than signing, at Clarke Schools for Hearing and Speech.

Then Calvin and Grace met. There are several versions of how that came about, but I’m going to share my favorite. These two working people lived across the street from each other (boarding houses, I assume?). One day Grace spotted Calvin standing in front of his window shaving. He was wearing a derby hat and long underwear. (Stoic Cal, you ask?) Grace was very much amused (so it goes) and asked her janitor to deliver a flower pot to him. The next morning the janitor brought her Calvin’s card, asking if he might call. They got married October 4, 1905 at her mother’s house, which has another good story. Calvin’s “hat while shaving” was explained as: “it was to keep the hair off my ears.” The objection of Grace’s mother to their marriage was: “I just wanted her to wait till she learned how to bake.”

A Perfect Pairing and a Nasty Hit

Calvin’s seriousness and dry wit and Grace’s friendliness and sense of fun made a successful duo; comfortable, resourceful, and on track. The timeline from 1905 goes like this:

• 1906: Son John is born. 1908: son Calvin Jr is born.
• 1918: Calvin is elected governor of Massachusetts, following career moves from struggling young lawyer days. Northampton: City Solicitor. Mayor. Massachusetts: state legislator, state senator, lieutenant governor.
• 1920: Calvin is elected Vice President on the ticket with Warren Harding.
• 1923: August 3 Calvin is sworn in as President and Grace becomes First Lady on Hardings death.
• 1924: June 12 Calvin is nominated to run in his own right for President. On July 7 son Calvin Jr. dies of blood poisoning from an infected blister.

Stop! Tragedy. It’s true, sixteen-year old John played tennis on the White House court without socks and got a blister on his foot. He died of septicemia within a few days; his funeral was held in the East Room. And the 1924 presidential campaign had to go on. Saddest part of the story? Campaign photos were taken at the White House that hot DC tennis-playing day, and Calvin insisted the boys wear suits for the shoot. Did John simply forget his socks when he shed his suit and ran out to the tennis court to cool off? What if Calvin had not insisted his sons wear a suit? That haunted Calvin.

Even as he mourned, Calvin had to campaign; he never mentioned his opponents by name or maligned them, he simply delivered speeches on his theory of government, including several that were broadcast over the radio. It was the most subdued campaign since 1896. November returns: Calvin was reelected by a landslide, with 72% of the electoral votes, and 56% of the popular. The economy was booming, and no wars were looming.

Calvin did what he was hired to do for the next four years; and so did Grace. When 1928 rolled around, Calvin refused to run again. On March 4, 1929, Herbert Hoover moved into the White House and Calvin and Grace returned to Northampton. Son John got married in September.

Keep It Going

Calvin spent the next four years writing his autobiography and articles for national magazines, such as a nationally syndicated column “Thinking Things Over with Calvin Coolidge.” He died of heart failure at the age of 61 January 5, 1933 just after lunch; Grace found him dead in his bedroom where he generally took an afternoon nap.

Grace lived 28 years after leaving the White House. She received many honorary degrees and awards and served on numerous boards, such as the Clarke School for the Deaf. In 1931 she was voted one of America’s twelve greatest living women. For her “fine personal influence exerted as First Lady of the Land,” she received a gold medal from the National Institute of Social Sciences. She served as a volunteer during WWII working for the Red Cross, helping Jewish refugees from Europe, loaning her house for use by the WAVES. In 1956, she and son John gave the Plymouth Notch homestead to the state of Vermont. Grace died of heart failure at the age of 78 July 8, 1957 in Northampton and is buried beside Calvin and Calvin Jr, there at the Notch, in the Green Mountains of Vermont.

Son John Coolidge became an executive with the railroad; he and wife Florence had two daughters. John helped start the Coolidge Foundation and his gifts of buildings, land, and artifacts were instrumental in creating the President Calvin Coolidge State Historic Site. Well into his 80s, he’d shuttle back and forth from his home near the site to collect his mail at the old post office; often stopping to answer visitor’s questions about his father, or the family. He died May 31, 2000, at the age of 94, and of course, is buried at the Notch.

Would I invite Calvin, and Grace, to my party? I would, but knowing Calvin’s distaste for parties, I think I’d leave him be and take a trip to Plymouth Notch. Maybe I’d run into those great-grandchildren, Christopher and Jennifer, and we could have a good talk.

#29. Harding, Warren Gamaliel

Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas –Warren Gamaliel Harding (1865-1923) was the 29th President of the United States, from 1921 until his death in 1923. He died as one of history’s most popular presidents just two years and 151 days into his term. Alas, like little mushrooms popping up in the sun, facts (and rumors that tend to go before and after facts) have greatly shifted opinion. Some facts are undeniable – like the Teapot Dome Scandal; two of his cabinet appointees were tried and convicted for corruption. And letters and public confrontations with more than a few women, well. Time spent being treated for various health problems is documented; business debts and failures too. So what does all of this mean when it comes to being the leader of a country of 106 million people? Perception is everything. And Warren (note this fact) was a newspaperman. Yep. Warren owned a newspaper, in a time when newspapers were THE form of communication; the first president ever to claim that for a background. He knew how to shape and mold opinion. He knew how to stack up favors. And to top it off, he married a woman who was even more clever than he was. Yep. Florence Kling, five years his senior. He called her The Boss; she called him Sonny.

It’s easy to get judgmental and snub-nosey about what other people do and how they behave; certainly each of us is responsible for our own actions. But, I wondered, DOES the apple fall very far from the tree? What was “growing up” like for Warren, and Florence? You’ll need to don your hipboots for this.

Warren First

Warren was born November 2, 1865 in Blooming Grove, Ohio, the eldest of eight children born to George Tryon and Phoebe Dickerson Harding. Phoebe was a midwife, and Tryon, according to one biographer, was “a shiftless, impractical, lazy, catnapping fellow whose eye was always on the main chance.” Tryon was a farmer, teacher, doctor, salesman; quickly tiring of each attempt; moving frequently, and borrowing money. In 1870, after a move to Caledonia, Ohio, he acquired The Argus, a local weekly newspaper, and that’s where Warren learned the basics of the newspaper business. At 15 Warren enrolled at Ohio Central College; he and a friend put out a small newspaper that served both the college and the town. After graduation in 1882, he settled in Marion, Ohio. And from there, well, watch what happened.

Warren borrowed some money and bought a failing newspaper, The Marion Star, the weakest of three local papers, and the only daily. He went to Chicago for the 1884 Republican Convention, taking notes and hanging out with the press (he was 19). When he got home he found that the sheriff had reclaimed the paper! Eventually he regained ownership of the Star, and, in a county that was Democratic in a state that was Republican, kept the daily edition nonpartisan and the weekly moderately Republican. This attracted advertisers and put the other Republican paper out of business. Biographer Andrew Sinclair describes it this way: “He started with nothing, and through working, stalling, bluffing, withholding payments, borrowing back wages, boasting, and manipulating, he turned a dying rag into a powerful small-town newspaper. Much of his success had to do with his good looks, …but he was also lucky.”

Florence Next

Florence Mabel Kling was born August 15, 1860, the eldest of three children of Amos and Louisa Bouton Kling. Amos was prosperous; during the Civil War his primary business was bulk sales of nails to the Union Army. He made money; he was on the boards of the Marion Telephone Company, the Marion National Bank, the Columbus and Toledo Railroad. And when Florence was born, he was disappointed. He wanted a boy. His next two children were sons, but he raised Florence like a boy too, determined to make her “more masculine than feminine.” He trained her in business skills; banking, real estate. Florence wanted to be a concert pianist, and headed for the Cincinnati Conservatory of Music after high school. Whenever she came home, she and Amos clashed, till finally, at the age of 19, she eloped with Pete DeWolfe and had a baby. Yep. A son, Marshall Eugene DeWolfe, September 22, 1880. Amos was enraged, and Pete turned out to be a no good alcoholic; the couple divorced. History is a bit garbled as to who really raised Marshall; I’ll leave that be.

It is known that Florence Kling and Warren Harding began dating and decided to get married. Now, if you want to see a row, stay tuned. Amos has been described as “ruthlessly harsh in his view of the world” and “driven only by work and money.” How do you think Amos (and the Klings) felt about Warren (and the Hardings)?

Hatfields and McCoys in Ohio

When Amos learned his daughter was dating the young newspaper publisher, he was furious. For one thing, Warren had been critical of Amos’ dealings with the government. But the big issue was the rumor that Warren had partial black ancestry. Amos threatened to disinherit Florence. Warren threatened to beat up Amos. Amos threatened to shoot Warren and ruin his newspaper. But Warren and Florence quietly married July 8, 1891 at their new home in Marion (her mother secretly sneaked in). Florence was 30, Warren was 25.

Florence’s mother died the next year, but Amos continued his rant; he pressured Marion businessmen not to invest in anything that involved Warren. He financed another newspaper to compete with Warren’s Marion Star. In January 1894, when Warren entered Battle Creek Sanitarium for depression, Florence became the informal manager of the Marion Star.

All that business training Amos pushed on Florence paid off. She organized a circulation department and improved distribution. She got good prices for new equipment; she knew the machinery of the newspaper plant, and how to fix it. Florence was instrumental in developing the first wire report. She hired the first woman reporter, Jane Dixon. Under her leadership, the Star prospered; revenue increased. When Warren returned in December, Florence nursed him at home. Florence wrote of her husband, “he does well when he listens to me and poorly when he does not.”

Politics and Bedfellows

Let’s follow the trail to the White House and see if Florence’s statement proved true.

• 1899: Florence encouraged Warren in his first political run for the state senate. She managed the finances and fended off objections from Amos. Warren was elected. Florence observed the legislature from the balcony in Columbus and made trips to newspaper offices to make sure her husband got good coverage. She also began consulting with an astrologer.
• 1901: Encouraged by Florence to “be pragmatic and not to alienate anyone,” Warren was reelected.
• 1903: Warren was elected lieutenant governor of Ohio.
• 1905: Florence needed emergency surgery and was confined to a hospital for weeks. Warren began an affair with her close friend Carrie Phillips.
• 1906: Florence’s father Amos married a widow 38 years his junior (younger than Florence).
• 1910: Warren’s mother died.
• 1911: Warren’s father Tryon married a 43-year-old widow (younger than Warren).
• 1911: Florence intercepted a letter between Warren and Carrie Phillips. She considered divorce but decided she’d invested too much time. She tried to keep Warren in sight and gave him political advice. She continued treatments for various ailments and continued her study of astrology.
• 1912: Warren wanted to run for governor. Florence kept her eye on Washington. Warren supported Taft at the Republican Convention. When Taft lost, Warren sought solace by writing poetry to Carrie Phillips.
• 1913: Amos died, leaving Florence $35,000 and valuable real estate. Florence had a serious kidney attack and went to White Oaks Sanitarium. She encouraged Warren to run for US Senate.
• 1914: Warren was elected US Senator from Ohio.
• 1915: Florence’s son Marshall died of tuberculosis, age 35. Warren (reputedly) began an affair with Nan Britton (possibly a German spy).
• 1916: Warren’s father Tryon divorced his second wife.
• 1918: Florence and Carrie Phillips had an altercation at the train station. Warren wrote to Carrie of his devotion to her, saying he considered a divorce from Florence unwise.
• 1920: Florence actively lobbied for Warren at the Republican Convention. Warren was selected. Florence organized a Front Porch campaign and controlled Warren’s appointments. Florence’s newspaper experience helped control Carrie Phillips threats, allegations of Warren’s black ancestry, and talk of Florence’s divorce. The consulting clairvoyant predicted Warren would become President, but would die in office.

How far from their trees have these apples landed? Next, the 1920 election.

The New United States President

Warren was in, with 60% of the Popular Vote and 76% of the Electoral. And Florence asked: “Well, Warren Harding, I have got you the Presidency. What are you going to do with it?” First thing: he opened the gates. Florence wanted the White House open to the public and by golly, she got that. The public loved her, flocking to the White House for Florence-led tours. She hosted elegant parties with a thousand guests; visitors with every claim to fame from Al Jolson to Albert Einstein came to the White House to be with the Hardings. There hadn’t been a First Lady since Frances Cleveland with such a recognizable face; she was seen everywhere, visiting Veterans in the hospital, unveiling statues, going to baseball games, being filmed with her signature wave, driving her car. Fast. She even sold pictures of Laddie Boy, the White House dog. The public ate it up though “high society” shunned her, favoring Second Lady Grace Coolidge. And Warren, just as the clairvoyant had predicted, died before their four years was up.

It happened on their 15,000-mile promotional tour of the West Coast labeled “The Voyage of Understanding”; re-election was in mind. Both Warren and Florence were ill from the start, but they kept slogging; their doctor was traveling with them. Warren made speeches in Alaska, and Seattle; cutting things short each time to get to his hotel and rest. By the time they reached the presidential suite in San Francisco’s Palace Hotel, 58-year-old Warren was exhausted. He died at 7:20 PM August. 2, 1923 as Florence was reading to him from the Saturday Evening Post. The article “A Calm Review of a Calm Man” was about Warren; his last words were “That’s good, go on.”

Calvin Coolidge was sworn in as President by the light of a kerosene lamp in the family parlor at 2:47 AM on August 3; his father, a Vermont justice of the peace, administered the oath of office. President Coolidge then went back to bed. Florence stayed with Warren through the long train ride to Washington, the state funeral at the Capitol, and the last service and burial in Marion. She died in Marion November 21, 1924, just over a year later, at the age of 64. Tryon Harding outlived them both. He attended his son’s inauguration, and his funeral, dying at the age of 85. Funds eventually were raised for a magnificent memorial in Marion where Florence and Warren rest today, as rumor and fact continue to mix and overlap and delight and sadden, depending on the teller, and the listener.

Would I invite Warren, or Florence, to my party? No, but if I had lived in Washington when Florence was leading those White House tours, I would have been there with the rest of the public.

I’m as gullible as anybody. Yep.

#28. Wilson, Thomas Woodrow

Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas – Thomas Woodrow Wilson (December 28, 1856 – February 3, 1924) was the 28^th President of the United States, from 1913-1921. There are lots of “firsts” about Woodrow that fill the presidential resume; he was the first president (and so far only) with a PhD, an academician with little political and no military experience. He was the first southerner to head up the Executive branch of US government since before that Brother-V-Brother war. Born in Virginia, he grew up in Augusta, Georgia in a family that staunchly supported the Confederacy. One of his earliest memories was standing at the gate of the Augusta parsonage where the family lived, and hearing a passerby derisively announce Lincoln’s election, stating “War is coming!” Woodrow was the third of four children born to Joseph Ruggles and Jessie Woodrow Wilson. Joseph was a Presbyterian minister who served as a Chaplin to the Confederate Army for a time, as wounded soldiers were cared for at their church. In 1870, the same year Georgia was readmitted to the Union (the last state back in place), the family moved to Columbia, South Carolina (Woodrow was 12 by then) and four years later to Wilmington, North Carolina, with father Joseph each time taking more responsible (and loftier) positions. When Woodrow headed for Princeton in 1874, it was the first time he set foot in a “never-Confederate” state! How did that affect Woodrow’s perceptions about the functions and responsibilities of government?

The Serious Student and The Georgia Girl

It’s a fact that Houghton-Mifflin published his book “Congressional Government: A Study in American Politics” in 1885 (he was 29); and was called “the best critical writing on the American constitution since the Federalist Papers.” Nice, Woodrow! Woodrow had studied political philosophy and history at Princeton, active in the Whig literary and debating society, graduating in 1879. And then he headed for law school at the University of Virginia, but didn’t stay long; he studied law on his own and after being admitted to the Georgia bar opened his own law firm in Atlanta in 1882. Didn’t like that a bit! Too day-to-day. He much preferred study to practice. So off to Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, and doctoral studies in history, political science, German, and other things leading to a professorship, stating “(It’s)…the only feasible place for me, the only place that would afford leisure for reading and original work, the only strictly literary berth with an income attached.” Well then.

He wrote that well-received book while studying at Johns Hopkins (it was actually his doctoral thesis); after graduating he began teaching at Bryn Mawr College, a newly established women’s college in Pennsylvania, where he taught ancient Greek and Roman history, American history, and political science. He also got married. Ellen Louise Axson (1860-1914) was herself the child of a Presbyterian minister. Born in Savannah, Georgia, she grew up in Rome, Georgia and studied art at Rome Female College. She went on to study at the Art Students League in New York, winning recognition for her work. Woodrow had seen Ellen years earlier when she was very young; when a chance meeting brought them together again as adults, he very quickly proposed and she very slowly said yes. They were married June 24, 1885 in Savannah – his father and her grandfather performed the ceremony.

Seems to me the next years were more cerebral than sparkly. Ellen gave up her pursuit of the arts to be a faculty wife; in April 1886 she headed south to give birth to daughter Margaret in a southern state. “I don’t my child to be born a Yankee,” was her explanation. In August 1887 she did the same when daughter Jessie was born. Woodrow found the 42 students at Bryn Mawr “too passive for his taste,” clashed with the Dean, a staunch feminist, and left Bryn Mawr in 1888 with no fare-the-well.

On to Wesleyan University, an elite undergraduate college for men in Connecticut where he taught political economy and Western history. By October 1889, when daughter Eleanor was born, I’m guessing things were too hectic to get Ellen back down south for the birth. In 1890 Woodrow, Ellen, and their three little girls moved to Princeton and settled in New Jersey for the next 22 years. I guess those girls grew up Yankees, after all.

The New Jersey Years

As Professor of Jurisprudence and Political Economy at Princeton, over the next years Woodrow wrote nine books. Two textbooks he wrote, “The State,” and “Division and Reunion” were used in American college courses for many years. In 1902, at the age of 46, he was named President of Princeton, where he served until clashes with alumni over changes he proposed caused him to consider getting into a different kind of politics. In 1908, before the Democratic Convention, he dropped a few hints, stating “no vice-presidential nomination, please.”

The “hint hint” effort began to pay off, but not until January 1910, and not for a presidential nomination. New Jersey Democrats had lost the last five gubernatorial elections, so, what’s to lose, they said, and besides, Woodrow’s inexperience will make him easy to influence. “I’ll do it,” Woodrow innocently said, “if a nomination is without pledges to anybody about anything.” He wound up in the Governor’s Chair from 1911-1913 and guess what. He broke with the party bosses right away. Whoops! Easy peasy move next: President of the United States.

And maybe he had Theodore Roosevelt to thank for that. All that Republican squabbling, and Progressive Party pushing, and William Taft’s pleasant disposition. What a turkey shoot!

The First Ladies

“I am naturally the most unambitious of women and life in the White House has no attractions for me,” wrote incoming First Lady Ellen Wilson to outgoing President William Taft, who’d sent her some advice on the mansion as he was leaving. The Democrats overall may have been thrilled about getting into the White House, but Inauguration Day 1913 was pretty much a lot of circumstance with very little pomp. Alice Paul knocked the ball out of the park the day before with the Women’s Suffrage Procession – 18,000 women marched! When Woodrow got off the train in Washington that day, he was not greeted by – anyone. The actual Inaugural ceremony went okay – William Taft was definitely happy – but the Inaugural Ball had already been canceled as inappropriate due to “troubling issues.”

Woodrow somberly started to work. Ellen soon had an art studio installed in the White House (skylight included). She painted, organized the weddings of two daughters, and died of Bright’s disease August 6, 1914, 520 days in. Her last words to her physician were “please tell my husband I want him to marry again.”

Woodrow took Ellen’s body to Georgia for burial among her family members. Oldest daughter Margaret and Woodrow’s cousin Helen Woodrow Bones shared White House hostessing duties. It was Helen who invited her widowed friend Edith Galt into the White House for a spot of tea after a walk one day, just as Woodrow returned from a golf outing. Three months later Woodrow proposed to Edith. And after a bit of an uproar she said yes.

Of course there was talk. “Murder” was one word used. But Woodrow’s bigger problem was Mary Peck. Mary was from way back in 1907; Woodrow met her on a take-a-break trip to Bermuda (Ellen didn’t go.) Woodrow and Mary had been writing letters since. Warm letters. Ellen knew about that. Now, how to explain Mary to Edith? And vice versa? (The heck with war in Europe, two women require much more tact.) I’ll let you dig through all the stories on the net if you’re into that – but one fact is clear. Whatever Woodrow said to Edith, she married him December 18, 1915. New First Lady, in.

The Secret President

Edith Bolling Galt (1872-1961) was born in Wytheville, Virginia, the seventh of the eleven children of William and Sarah Bolling. She received little formal education, and married Norman Galt in 1896; he was a prominent jeweler in Washington and twelve years her senior. Norman died unexpectedly in 1908 and Edith inherited his business. The Galt name was famous in Washington, presidents and their wives had shopped there since 1802. Lincoln’s pocket watch came from Galts; it was close to the White House.

Edith’s six years as First Lady were not extravagant times. Women were fighting for the right to vote and Germany was fighting to take over Europe. Woodrow was re-elected in 1916 with 52% of the Electoral vote, nothing like the 1912 landslide; his promise was to keep America out of the war. Edith accompanied Woodrow both to and from the capitol in the parade, but again there was no inaugural ball. On April 2 Woodrow requested a declaration of war against Germany and by April 6 Congress had approved.

During the war years Edith’s White House observed gasless Sundays and meatless Mondays to set a good example for federal rationing (she even had sheep grazing the White House lawn to save manpower). At war’s end, she followed Woodrow to Europe as peace negotiations were hammered out. And she was with Woodrow on October 2, 1919, as he traveled the country to garner support for the League of Nations. That’s the day he suffered a stroke that left him partially paralyzed and half blind.

For the rest of Woodrow’s term, Edith manned the door. She became a “shadow steward” deciding which matters of state were important enough to bring to Woodrow’s attention. Claiming she “never made a decision regarding the disposition of public affairs,” she does acknowledge that she decided on what was important and what was not. All Cabinet members were required to send memos, correspondence, questions, and requests directly to her. She filled out paperwork for Woodrow, was made privy to classified information, and entrusted with encoding and decoding encrypted messages. Through those secretive times, Woodrow hankered for a third term. He didn’t get it; they wouldn’t even put him on the ticket. The Republicans won the 1920 presidential election in a landslide.

The End of Things

When Warren Harding was inaugurated in March 1921, Woodrow and Edith moved to a townhouse in the Kalorama section of Washington. Woodrow opened a law practice but only showed up for work one day. He tried writing and produced a few short essays, but refused to write his memoirs. He died February 3, 1924 at the age of 67.

Edith wrote her memoirs. And she continued advising presidents. Franklin Roosevelt asked her to sit in Congress the day he asked for a declaration of war in 1941; she rode in John Kennedy’s 1961 inaugural parade. She died in 1961 at the age of 89 and is buried alongside Woodrow in the Washington National Cathedral, the only president and “first lady-shadow president” so interred.

As to Margaret, Woodrow’s oldest daughter who served as temporary First Lady between Ellen and Edith, she became a member of the ashram of Sri Aurobindo in Pondicherry, India in 1938 and was given the new name Nistha, meaning “dedication” in Sanskrit. She died in 1944 at the age of 57 and is buried in India.

Woodrow’s legacy is controversial; he was a fine scholar; he was a segregationist; he had expansive ideas about a better world; he believed he was the only one who did. And his sneaky-pete-closed-mouth-keeping-secrets habit? That covered a lot more than bad teeth.

Would I invite this man to my party? Not a chance.

#27. Taft, William Howard

Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas – William Howard Taft (September 15, 1857 – March 8, 1930) was the 27th president of the United States, from 1909 to 1913. That’s one term. Only. Landslide in, landslide out. Now, this doesn’t mean he didn’t do a good job. Actually it was what you’d call a “low-blow” by the very person who pushed him in that took him out. Remember Theodore Roosevelt’s decision in 1908 to serve only two terms? He “groomed” a certain William Taft to come in and continue his policies. Landslide in for William! Only William began to stick to his own guns after a while, and Theodore decided he wanted back in. The Republicans didn’t want Theodore back, so he started his own party running against his buddy, and that “party-split” knocked the vote every which way and brought the Democrats back in a wild frenzy! The Democrats laughed, and William laughed too, saying “Well I have one consolation. No ex-president was ever elected by such a large majority!” Then he went ahead with what he really wanted to do all along. He became Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court, the only president ever to sit in the Biggest Chair of both the Executive and Judicial branches of government. A later-in-life quote says it all: Presidents come and go, but the Supreme Court goes on forever.

William was not a spiteful fellow. He was quiet, thoughtful, and principled. Born into a family that was not particularly wealthy, William was not considered particularly brilliant. But parents Alphonso and Louise Torrey Taft pushed their five sons hard, and William headed off for Yale in 1874. He graduated second in his class, and was a member of the secret society his father Alphonso had organized when he was at Yale known as Skull and Bones. (Just look up the membership on that.) Big husky William was a member of the intramural wrestling team while there too, the heavyweight champion in fact. Which seems a good skill for any president to have. Grappling and all.

After Yale, law school, working at his father’s law office, and admission to the Ohio bar, in 1881 William did a stint as Assistant Prosecutor for Hamilton County, Ohio before finally opening his own private practice.  And that’s when the Taft story begins to double in interest, because that’s when William married Helen Herron, a feisty, attractive young woman who’d been dreaming about living in the White House since she was seventeen years old. Cupid’s arrow was dipped in politics that would affect the lives of the Tafts for the next 44 years.

Let’s Talk About Helen

Helen was the fourth of eleven children born to John and Harriet Collins Herron, a “politically connected” Cincinnati family. John Herron and Benjamin Harrison were college classmates; Rutherford Hayes was John’s law partner at one time. Harriet was both daughter and sister to US Congressmen. In this large family clamoring with political buzz, Helen did her own thing –smoking and drinking and card playing just like the best of the guys – while getting a super-duper education at the right girls schools and colleges, where she studied languages and other mind-expanding things that wound up being useful for the rest of her days, as you will see. Helen hung out in her father’s office reading his legal books, and later worked there. But she was frustrated in Cincinnati (too small) and frustrated over the lack of opportunities for women (get married or teach).

And then that killer moment! The Herrons were invited to Rutherford Hayes’ 1877 inauguration. In fact, they got to stay IN the White House for several weeks, giving Helen the chance to soak up what it would be like to live there. She set her hat. Helen met William at a sledding party in 1880 when he was 23 and she was 19; their families were acquainted. A few years later when she started up a group for Sunday afternoon get-togethers (strictly intellectual), she invited William and his brother Horace to attend. From there, William began proposing to Helen and she kept refusing. Until she finally agreed. The wedding was June 19, 1886 (they were 29 and 25); the children that came along were son Robert (1889), daughter Helen (1891), and son Charles (1897). As to their career plans – in truth, both of them got much of what they hoped for. Best of all, they made a good fit. Helen and William liked each other, and respected each other’s ideas and values. It makes for a good story.

Cincinnati To The World

It took Helen a while to get out of Cincinnati. William relished his law work; he was appointed and then elected as a judge on the Superior Court of Cincinnati; then in 1890 President Harrison appointed him Solicitor General of the United States. In 1896 he became Dean and Professor of Property at Cincinnati Law School. When the move from Cincinnati finally came, it was a biggie! In January 1900, President McKinley asked William to oversee the establishment of a civilian government in the Philippines following its annexation to the United States as a result of the Spanish-American War.

I won’t go into the pros and cons of what the US government was doing worldwide at this time in history. But the fact is, the United States had kicked the Spanish out of the Philippines (well, there was the 1898 Treaty of Paris and agreements and so on) and there was  a 700-island archipelago that needed some organizing (or the Spanish will jump right back in, was the line). It was a mess. When asked if he would take the job of overseeing and untangling the mess, William had a stipulation. ”I’ll go,” he said, “if you make me head of the commission, with responsibility for its success, or failure.” McKinley agreed, and William sailed for the islands in April. Helen and the children, then 11, 9 and 3, soon followed.

Helen was delighted (I’m guessing ecstatic!). She didn’t know what to expect, but she loved the idea of new places and new faces. And maybe, she thought, it might even move them closer to the White House? It was a step, for sure – when William was made Governor-General on July 4, 1901, and the Tafts moved into the Malacañang Palace in Manila, she became “First Lady” of the Philippines.

William quickly determined that “independence” was far off for the Filipinos – they were generally considered inferiors by Americans, and in truth, did not have the means for self-sufficiency as land ownership had not been permitted during the years of Spanish occupation. William, and Helen, set about doing what they could. No racial segregation was allowed at official events. Helen worked to earn the respect of the Filipinos – she learned to speak their language, wore native dress at functions, and traveled the country meeting people. (She learned how to ride a horse in order to get around!) As to the self-sufficiency issue, since much of the arable land was held by Catholic religious orders, William, believing that Filipino farmers should have a stake in the new government through land ownership, testified about the issue before the Senate. With President Roosevelt’s authorization, he headed for Rome in 1902 to negotiate with Pope Leo XIII to purchase these lands and remove the Catholic priests. He was not successful, though an agreement of sorts was made in 1903. Helen, by the way, accompanied William on that trip. And, met the Pope.

All The Way To Snow Day

I’ll make this fast. William’s next title was Secretary of War (1904, a Roosevelt appointment), which brought the Tafts to Washington, and turned Helen into a “cabinet member’s wife,” (which she regarded as a comedown) but nevertheless, had the Tafts in the middle of Washington politics and social life, in and out of the White House. William and Theodore became friends. As Secretary of War William got another title as Governor when Cuba asked the US for help under terms of a 1903 treaty; he traveled to Cuba with a small American force and declared himself “provisional governor” for two weeks until the country stabilized.

William’s third title was President of the United States. Theodore Roosevelt was happy. He had worked hard to line things up for William’s landslide election. And Helen was happy! In a slick trick for an inauguration day, with Theodore leaving for Africa to stay out of the way, Mother Nature sent a blizzard that dropped 10 inches of snow over the city. It took 6,000 city workers shoveling snow into 500 wagons to ready the route, but for the first time ever, a First Lady rode beside her husband in the Inaugural Parade. Mark the date: March 4, 1909.

Four Years In

Bad luck struck early on. In May, just three months after moving in, Helen suffered a stroke which rendered her unable to speak. She was away from the White House for almost a year and never fully recovered. But she did learn to speak again, and came back ready to tackle her White House duties. She had all the Roosevelt trophy heads removed from the White House, completely revamped White House staffing, and, instead of hosting cabinet wives for lunch as her predecessor Edith had done, she sat in on Presidential meetings with the guys, discussing things later with William, who valued her opinion.

During the first few years, with Theodore away in Africa, William was on his own with decision making. And in time, those decisions strayed further away from what Theodore expected. The split happened. Here’s what that 1912 election looked like in numbers: William got 8 electoral votes, Theodore got 88, and Woodrow Wilson got 425. Is that a slam or what? Helen had done all she could – she attended both the Republican and Democratic Conventions that year, and even sat on the FRONT ROW of the Democrats to hopefully deter anyone from making bad comments about her husband. Yikes.

William was right there, up front, on Woodrow’s March 4 inauguration day, as he and Helen left the White House; see him smiling in the photo? And on April 1, 1913, William became Professor of Law and Legal History at Yale, receiving a thunderous reception. During the years they lived in New Haven, Helen wrote and published her memoirs, Recollections of Full Years; interestingly most of what she wrote about was her time in the Philippines.

William kept his eye on the Supreme Court. It was December 1920 when he was asked to come to President-elect Harding’s home to advise him on appointments that William was asked if he would accept appointment to the Supreme Court. William laid out his condition: having appointed two of the present associate justices, he would only accept the Chief Justice position. Harding submitted his name on June 30, 1921 and the Senate confirmed William the same day, 61–4, without any committee hearings. Slam in!

And So It Goes

The Tafts were back in Washington. Helen was happy about that. And William was right where he wanted to be – totally immersed in law. I like this story a lot. I like the part about William’s new regime too. He’d always been too fat, (340 at least, way bigger than Grover) but now he walked to work every day – three miles from home to office, crossing Rock Creek along the way (they’ve named the crossing Taft Bridge, look for it). I’m guessing he whistled on that three-mile walk, he trimmed down to just over 200 pounds.

As to his work, William gets high marks for his accomplishments on the Court. One comment: “He was as aggressive in the pursuit of his agenda in the judicial realm as Theodore Roosevelt was in the presidential.” Well there you go – the score evened and honors enough for everyone.

William’s failing health was the deciding factor in his retirement; the day he administered the inaugural oath to incoming President Hoover in 1929, his memory failed, he jumbled some of the words. His resignation was submitted with regret February 3, 1930; he died March 8. Helen lived another thirteen years; staying on in Washington, continuing to travel when she could; always interested in politics. I picture her visiting her cherry trees in West Potomac Park every spring, did you know she’s the one who transformed the Park into an esplanade? She was inspired by Luneta Park in Manila and arranged with the Mayor of Tokyo for all those cherry trees.

William and Helen are buried in Arlington Cemetery; only one other President, and one other First Lady, John and Jackie Kennedy, are buried at Arlington, as most preferred their home state for their final remains. Helen, and William too no doubt, preferred Washington.

Yes, I’d invite these two to a party, but not at my house. We’d go to West Potomac Park, on a warm spring day, with cherry blossoms falling all over our blankets on the ground. I’d invite my Filipino and Japanese friends to come too. Lots to talk about.