Eleanor Roosevelt – My Day (1942)

183

July 31, 1942

Washington – (Thursday)
The other members of Mr. Hopkins’ family arrived yesterday, including little Diana, who, with the new Mrs. Hopkins’ niece and nephew, is having an interesting time investigating every corner of the White House.

My only appointment this morning was with Mr. Edward H. Cooley and Mr. William T. Frary. Their interest is in the fisheries industry, and they want me to come down to the pier when I am in Boston to visit the fishermen who happen to be ashore. Like many other industries, this one has its wartime problems.

Since there is a shortage of meat, we should eat more fish, and this is the time when much of our education on the food value of fish should bear fruit, but the Navy has requisitioned many fishing boats, so that with prices better, and people wanting more fish, the industry can produce only about half of its usual quota.

This balancing of essential things, one against the other, is a constant puzzle, but I hope that something can be done to help the fishermen. I have a sympathetic interest in these men, due, perhaps, to the summers I have spent on the coast of Maine, where fishermen abound.

At noon, we gathered in my husband’s study for the simple wedding ceremony which made Mrs. Macy Mrs. Hopkins. I am sure that everybody in the room wished wholeheartedly that happiness and good fortune will come to both Mr. and Mrs. Harry Hopkins.

After the wedding breakfast, everybody scattered, and I devoted the afternoon to work on my mail, as I had no appointments until five o’clock.

A Swiss newspaper, published on the West Coast, has been sent to me, in which there is an article by Maria Allen Bazzi, an Anglo-Swiss actress and writer. A poem by her which they printed, entitled “War Mother,” has one verse which I should like to quote here:

Remember, son, a mother’s love
Has no flag, no frontier, no hate.
We all have suffered the same pains,
No matter what our race.
The cannon’s cry is the Devil’s laugh
That jeers at the mother’s heart.

The women of the world should remember that. Without it, the effort required to build for peace in the future will never be made by the women. I have an idea that they are the ones who must carry on this Crusade.

184

August 1, 1942

Washington – (Friday)
Yesterday evening the President and I actually had a meal without any guests, but immediately afterwards there was a meeting with the usual people waiting for him. This morning, Miss Thompson and I are taking the train for New York City, where I have a number of appointments in the late afternoon.

Again in my mail the perennial question has cropped up of the method by which we induct aliens into citizenship. In many places, at last, there is recognition not only of the importance of the coming-of-age of American citizens, when they undertake the important responsibility of their first vote, but of the ceremony in the courts when a new citizen, who has been a native of some other land, finally achieves his citizenship here. More and more, both of these occasions are becoming ceremonies of real moment. I am glad to see that happen, for I do not think anything should be omitted which impresses upon us the weight of responsibility which lies constantly on the shoulders of us who are citizens of a democracy.

This particular letter deals with a subject which covers the situation for the alien before he is finally accepted:

I thought I would write you about the painful ordeal that so many worthwhile aliens have to go through before they may become American citizens. I have often heard people talk about it, but never realized it thoroughly until I began to apply for papers myself. It is not for people like myself that I plead, but for a elderly people who never had much education, and for people who suffer from extreme nervousness, people who simply cannot retain anything they read because of the kind of life they have had to lead has given them no opportunity to use their memories or brains. It is understandable that the Justice Department should require everyone to take 20 lessons in American History and Government, and then take and pass a written examination.

That is surely an ordeal, but on top of that, many hundreds of people fail, because they go all to pieces when they have to answer questions in court in public. They never know the type of questions that may be asked, and you know how much must be memorized, in order to be able to answer any questions that may be asked at random by the judge.

Why should citizenship in a free country depend on a good memory? Why should more stress be put on the ability to assimilate the laws and history of a big country, than on the past record of an applicant? Only yesterday, I talked to a good, kindly woman who has a son serving in the British Ambulance Corps in Egypt, and has another son in the American Navy. She has been in this country 20 years, yet after attending school at great inconvenience last winter, she was unable to specify to the clerk at the Immigration Station the ten points in the Bill of Rights. She was told to go back to school again.

Perhaps with a little more thought, we can find some way of testing people for citizenship. How many of you, offhand, can name the ten points in the Bill of Rights?

185

August 3, 1942

Hyde Park, New York – (Sunday)
On Friday night I again took some young Navy men to see the show This Is the Army. There are not many shows you can see a second time, and enjoy them as much as the first time. But I can honestly say in this case, that I had a good time myself, which was enhanced by watching my guests enjoy themselves.

On Saturday morning, I left the train at Beacon, New York, so as to have a swim and lunch with Secretary and Mrs. Morgenthau. I was home by three o’clock, and we had quite a number of guests for supper at my cottage. Today there are guests again for lunch and supper, but on the whole, the day is a quiet day, which the gray sky perhaps accentuates. Not even a leaf is stirring outside of our windows now, and the purple fireweed along our brook, which I have always loved, is reflected in the water as in a looking-glass, for not a ripple is stirring.

When I awakened this morning, the sky was blue, and the birds were chirping everywhere, but now it looks as though Nature were waiting for the rain to come, or for the wind to blow.

I have just received an appeal from the Greek War Relief Association. They have finally been authorized to send food to Greece in larger amounts than has been permitted heretofore. They need money, and they will need it continuously, as long as it is possible to send food there, where starvation has been prevalent during the last few months. Perhaps families all over this country who are able to do so, will save a little on their own food budgets every week, and put those savings into a fund, to be forwarded once a month to the Greek War Relief Association.

The gallant fight which Greece put up, first against the Italians, and then against the Germans, certainly delayed the attack on Russia, and there are still Greek soldiers, sailors, and fliers who escaped from their country and are fighting side by side with the men of the United Nations. It will bring us all some relief to think that there no longer will be women and children dying of starvation in the streets of Greek cities.

I was interested to hear the other day that the Division of Physical Fitness, which has been developed in connection with the work of the New York State War Council, and which is directed by Dr. Hiram A. Jones, is carrying on an active program. I think our young people and our war industry workers should be encouraged to keep their bodies fit.

186

August 4, 1942

Hyde Park, New York – (Monday)
In the late afternoon yesterday it cleared up again. By the time a friend of mine arrived with her little girl, who is going to spend a few days with us, it was a warm, beautiful summer afternoon.

I spoke too soon when I said yesterday was a quiet day. I was inveigled into unpacking three cases and three barrels in the cellar of the big house and then into playing several games of deck tennis, until I was so weary that I wondered if I would be able to move at all this morning. Strangely enough, I seem to have limbered up again. However, I suppose I shall go right back and spend just as much time today on these active exercises.

The other day, Mr. Lunsford P. Yandell came to see me in New York City. From his briefcase, he took three copies of a little book and told me the story of how he came across it. Because of his interest in the book, he located the original publisher and found several people who at one time or another had endorsed it. He is now having it republished, feeling that in the present crisis many people will find it valuable. In a letter to me after his visit, there occurs the following sentence:

Conscientious parents are faced with the problem of giving their children a set of standards for their lives, some theory on which to work, whether it is called religion, or by some other name. The great barrier to arousing a youngster’s interest in religion as it is taught in the churches, is the impatience of the child. To young people the Bible is a fearsomely large book.

Mr. Yandell found a comment by Mr. Dale Carnegie, which strikes me as particularly interesting:

This little book contains the words of the greatest teacher of human relations the world has ever known. There is an urgent need for such a book, it should have been published centuries ago.

Well, here it is. You can carry it in your pocket or in your shopping bag and read it in odd moments. It is the complete sayings of Jesus, taken from the King James Version, arranged by Arthur Hinds.

My generation was accustomed to reading some verses from the Bible morning and evening, or to having them read aloud in the family circle. Most of us had our favorite chapters and verses which we learned by heart and which still remain in our minds, no matter how our own special religious beliefs have developed. This is a good book to have, good company at all times.

187

August 5, 1942

New York – (Tuesday)
Yesterday was such a clear and beautiful day that we went to the top of the hill back of my cottage for a picnic on the porch of the President’s little cottage. He has had vistas cut, so that as you sit on his porch, if the weather is clear, you can see the Catskill Mountains to the north and straight down across the Hudson River.

By walking a very short distance from the highest point of all, one can get a view of the foothills of the Berkshires and the Shawangunk range to the south.

We all enjoyed ourselves, except the poor cat. She had to be shut up because she went after a little dog we had with us who was completely intimidated by her. Fortunately, as we left, I remembered she must be given her freedom and the closet door was opened.

In the late afternoon I had to meet a train, and then go to the library for the opening of an exhibition of “Paintings of Dutchess County,” by members of the Dutchess County Art Association. It was a very well attended party.

The Association had chosen eleven winning pictures, which are to be photographed for a calendar. The twelfth is to be chosen by the public, so everybody was asked to vote and the voting will continue till the close of the exhibition at the end of this month.

This morning Miss Thompson and I are going to New York City. After speaking at Teachers College, Columbia University, tonight, I shall take the night train to Washington.

I have a letter from Mrs. Nathan Straus of the American Women’s Voluntary Services, asking me if I would not remind women everywhere in the country that they should take a home nursing course.

There are two reasons for this. Wherever possible, people with minor ailments should be cared for at home, because hospital facilities at present are being taxed to the utmost. Their resources are being so largely drawn upon, that hospital care must of necessity be limited.

Secondly, people who must go to hospitals will be returned as convalescents sooner than usual and more knowledge of home nursing is necessary. The volunteer nurses aides are being trained by the hospitals, but of course, only take this training if willing to give the required number of hours of service in the hospital afterwards.

In all probability, you should be willing to serve for the duration of the war. Naturally, this is not possible for women who have home responsibilities, especially young children or older people to be cared for in the home.

188

August 6, 1942

Washington – (Wednesday)
Yesterday afternoon I stopped at Mr. Walter Russell’s studio to see the bust of the President, on which he had made some changes. I think it is very good indeed. I admire greatly the quality of strength and patience he has put into it, which does not obscure a sense of humor which is always lurking in the background.

Last evening I attended two meetings held at Teachers College, Columbia University. Miss Mabel Carney, who organized them, was with difficulty induced to appear on the stage at each meeting, so that the speakers and audience could express their appreciation of the work she has so long carried on.

I caught the night train and arrived in Washington in time to have a glimpse at breakfast of three young people, who are on their way home from the International Student Service Summer Institute at Asheville, North Carolina.

This afternoon the President and I shall meet the Queen of the Netherlands at the station. This will be her really formal reception in this country.

I wonder if many cities can boast of the success which Boston seems to have with its Victory Gardens. They are actually planning to have a Victory Garden Show at Horticultural Hall, on September 28, 29 and 30, and to give War Stamps and Bonds to the lucky prize winners. They include among their competitors suburban residents who have had large gardens, but also allow entries from the lowly apartment resident who has grown one vegetable in his window box!

Boston evidently took the admonitions of the Department of Agriculture seriously. You will remember that we were told that no time, energy and vital materials were to be used on land which would not, and could not, bring forth a good harvest. So they are going to prove that even though Boston is a great city, it is still sufficiently near the soil to have a garden show of prize products. I think they should be congratulated and I am sure there are many other places which could do the same.

New England has done another outstanding piece of work through the local Civilian Defense Committee, in Bridgeport, Connecticut. The war workers’ wives decided that it was important to give “production soldiers” a lunch that would meet requirements of modern nutritionists, and so they started a campaign with the slogan “pack a lunch a man can work on.”

They enlisted volunteer nutrition lecturers and gave demonstrations. They featured pictures of the “kitchen soldier” and the luncheons she packed in the Bridgeport Post every week. These women are doing a real war job. More power to them!

189

August 7, 1942

Washington – (Thursday)
Yesterday afternoon, with the rain falling intermittently and gray skies, the Queen of the Netherlands came to Washington. It was an unpublicized visit, so even had the weather been kind, there would have been no opportunity for crowds to gather in the streets.

However, the Queen was cheered several times along the way to the White House and by the few people who could see her shake hands with the President, as she reached the car near which he was standing.

The President had arranged to drive the Queen around the circle in front of the Capitol, so she could get an idea of the buildings. Then we proceeded slowly between the lines of Marines and soldiers with bands playing at intervals all the way down the avenue. The Queen bowed and smiled at the soldiers standing at attention. Wherever people braved the rain to stand on the sidewalk to greet her, she responded warmly. I sat on the little seat in the car in front of the President and tried not to block the view of my two important companions.

I think I know what the aides to important people must feel like. They are always trying to obliterate themselves, and yet at the same time they must remember to be sufficiently responsive so that if the principals are busy talking, the people on the sidewalk will have one welcoming look.

On reaching the White House, we stood under the awning while photographs were being taken. Then we went into the diplomatic room to present the members of the Cabinet and the members of the Foreign Affairs Committees of the Senate and House to Her Majesty.

After a brief few minutes upstairs, she went at once to greet the diplomats who were waiting for her in the Blue Room. Then the Queen was allowed a little peace and quiet until we met again for dinner at 8:00. She is a very punctual lady and was ready before our last guests had come in. I think we were on our way downstairs at one minute after eight!

After dinner we had one newsreel, and then an ensemble from Hampton Institute sang spirituals and a few modern songs for three-quarters of an hour. This ended the entertainment and, after a brief chat, we all separated to meet again this morning in time for my press conference.

To people unaccustomed to meeting newspaper correspondents in different countries, it must seem somewhat of an ordeal to face about thirty women, but I think the Queen enjoyed her experience. She is a gracious, friendly person and I think everyone who meets her responds to these qualities.

190

August 8, 1942

Washington, Friday –
The sun shone yesterday and the weather has certainly been kind, because it has not been oppressively warm either yesterday or today. I went with Queen Wilhelmina to the Capitol and sat in the gallery to listen to her as she addressed those members of the Senate and the House who were in session and some of their friends and relatives.

Then we drove to the Navy Yard. The papers have told you of the ceremony as the United States turned over an American subchaser to Queen Wilhelmina. A lump came in my throat when I saw this kindly faced woman go aboard to greet, not only her officers, but all of her men.

She looked at all there was to see. Not content with a glance she made a real inspection of the quarters and even of the gun on the forward deck. One gets a sense of unity between a sovereign and her people when you see Queen Wilhelmina with her Navy men. It gives one an understanding of why she has been known as “the mother of her people.”

I have a feeling that any Dutch citizen who wished to reach his Queen would find her accessible, and if what he had to say was worthwhile, he would get a hearing. This is democracy, no matter whether the head of the nation is a sovereign or an elected chief.

The trip to Mt. Vernon on the Potomac was very pleasant. We lunched and chatted and landed immediately on arrival and the usual ceremony took place at George Washington’s tomb. From there most of the party drove to the Mansion, though some of us walked up the hill.

There was time only for a brief glance at the rooms and then we drove to the National Cemetery in nearby Arlington, Virginia, to lay a wreath on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The ceremony seemed to me even more poignant than usual. The bugler sounded taps and as the notes floated over the valley below, everyone thought of the new “unknown soldiers” all over the world today.

Back at the White House, we had a cup of tea and then the President went to his office and the Queen left to prepare for the dinner and reception by her at the Dutch Embassy last night.

This morning, Queen Wilhelmina attended the President’s press conference. Then, on our way to the Cabinet room, I showed her Miss Tully’s office, which is always filled with things awaiting the President’s attention. She was interested to know that the President always presides at Cabinet meetings. I pointed out the fact that we marked each member’s chair with his or her name, so that there could be no question of ownership.

Now Queen Wilhelmina has gone to visit the American Red Cross Headquarters and her own embassy, after which there will be a small informal lunch here.

191

August 10, 1942

Hyde Park, New York –
I did not have space on Friday to tell you that last Thursday evening I went to a meeting held on the stage of the National Theatre in Washington. The American Theatre Wing War Service, Inc., which sponsors the Stage Door Canteen in New York City, was organizing the Washington Stage Door Canteen.

Miss Helen Hayes, a Washington girl, is going to head it. We all had supper and then the speeches began, presided over by Mr. Brock Pemberton, the New York play producer. I imagine there were more stars treading the boards than ever had been on that stage at one time before.

Playwrights, actors, actresses, the union representative of the stage hands, businessmen, lawyers, all those interested in the theatre were represented. The speeches made tears come to many eyes. The theme was that if Washington undertook to run a stage door canteen, there would be plenty of work for everyone who could give time or money, and a very rich reward in personal experience. The stories about the boys drove home this fact.

One of the rules of the Stage Door Canteen is that the hostesses may not go out with any of the boys. One man, who has been coming regularly for a long time, invited the senior hostess and one or two others over to Governor’s Island for an entertainment, saying:

You see we are only allowed to ask our families, but two of my boys have been killed in this war, and you are the only family I have, so won’t you please come?

Running the Canteen in Washington isn’t going to be easy, if it is as popular as the one in New York City. It will require an enormous amount of food and a great deal of talent to keep the show going night after night.

The boys themselves contribute considerable talent. I have an idea that down here we might feature community singing. A good many boys come from places where they are familiar with folk music and many people in Washington know a great deal about that particular branch of American art.

Friday afternoon in Washington, I received the members of the Institute on World Problems of the World Federation of Education Association. They were a most interesting group. I should have liked to spend more time with them, but since I had been unable to obtain space on a plane, I had to leave them to say goodbye to Her Majesty, the Queen of the Netherlands, and take a 4:00 train for New York City.

I returned to Washington on the midnight train and yesterday attended the dedication of the new Meridian Hill Hotel. It has been built for government workers and we hope will be a help in the housing situation.

192

August 11, 1942

Hyde Park, New York – (Monday)
Because there is so much that I want to say, and I cannot always fit it into the column on the proper day, I keep going back.

Last Friday evening, I was in New York City for almost five hours, for my apartment served as a reunion place for the members of the two summer institutes sponsored by the International Student Service at Asheville, North Carolina, and Campobello, Canada.

Some of the students who were at the institutes there were able to remain in New York City for a few days. We had much singing and gaiety, but also some serious discussion on the personal stake of each boy and girl in the war. Most of the boys will soon be in the service. I was interested to find how many of the girls felt that their contribution might be made in factory work.

Sometimes I grow a little weary of the older people, who through the medium of the press, thoughtlessly suggest that everything done for young people today is unnecessary. It is a privilege to fight for your country and the world, but with that privilege must go the assurance that when the war is over, if you survive, you will have a part in creating the conditions under which you want to live.

The fact that we are now obliged to call our youth to this kind of sacrifice, shows that some of us in different parts of the world failed to live up to the ideals to which we gave lip service in World War Number One after it came to an end. Perhaps we did not realize that it meant political and economic changes, not only at home but abroad.

In any case, we were not prepared to face the situation. The boys of today are going into the armed forces as rapidly as they can be equipped, trained and used, and perhaps it is worthwhile for them to have a conviction as to what they are fighting for. They may fight better. It will help them if they know we really care about their convictions and will continue to carry on the interests which they, as young people, are consecrated to in the future, while they, at present, fight the war.

193

August 12, 1942

Hyde Park, New York – (Tuesday)
Between showers yesterday all of us had a little exercise and a swim. While I was over at the big house sorting out things which are to go to various children, I suddenly realized that rain was falling again as hard as ever. I woke this morning to a sky of clouds, which made me wonder if the sun would ever burn through.

It has, and the birds are hopping around and drying themselves. A beautiful scarlet one flew right by my porch bed this morning and a whole family of small pheasants dashed across the road as we walked home yesterday afternoon.

Today I hope we are going to have blue skies all day and a warm sun to lie in for awhile. I happened to see a doctor friend of mine in Poughkeepsie yesterday afternoon and he asked me if I didn’t feel that I wanted to go away and leave all the things I have been doing. I told him that life was varied enough at home and that I could get plenty of rest and still be busy, and that with three little girls in the house just now we certainly are gay.

My daughter wrote me from Seattle about a difficulty between her dog and the neighbor’s chickens. Any of us who have animals and children about know that these difficulties are part of the picture of everyday life and somehow or other must be coped with.

They are good practice because they teach us that we have to find a solution to every situation and make the best of it, no matter if it isn’t a perfect one. I find that the people who have the most difficult time in life are the perfectionists who never learn to get along as well as they can, but keep worrying because things are not as perfect as they should be.

The news from the Solomon Islands, Russia and India makes us all very anxious these days. One headline says that Secretary Knox tells us we must face more Valley Forges before we win the war. I cannot help feeling that Russia is facing a good many of them these days.

We are learning that industrial efficiency and well thought out and planned equipment, with long years of training, cannot be met by anything which is improvised in a short time. We will achieve our goals eventually, of that I am sure. But we will have to achieve the same kind of efficiency behind the lines, the same kind of discipline among civilians and training in our Armed Forces that has been accomplished through long years of effort by the Axis powers.

194

August 13, 1942

New York – (Wednesday)
I have a most delightful letter from Jan Struther, in which she encloses a copy of the inscription which is on the statue of the Pioneer Woman, which stands on the campus of the Texas State College for Women, at Denton, Texas. It reads:

Marking a trail in the pathless wilderness, pressing forward with unswerving courage, she met each untried situation with a resourcefulness equal to the needs: with a glad heart she brought to her frontier family her homeland’s cultural heritage: with delicate spiritual sensitiveness she illumined the dullness of routine and the loneliness of isolation with beauty and with life abundant: and with all she lived with a casual unawareness of her value to civilization. Such was the pioneer woman, the unsung saint of the nation’s immortals.

Now I want to quote you a comment from Jan Struther’s letter on this inscription. She says:

What I like particularly is “with a glad heart she brought to her frontier family her homeland’s cultural heritage.” It always seems to me that what the frontier woman had to do in space, the present day woman has got to do in time: that is, she has to preserve everything that was good and worthy of preserving in the prewar world, and manage to weave it into the texture of the simpler and more spartan world she and her children will have to build up in the future.

That seems to me an idea quite fascinating to think about. I want to add to it the line in the inscription which I like best:

And with all she lived with casual unawareness of her value to civilization.

There we have the secret which should be driven home to every woman. In countless homes in this country today, there are women who are “casually unaware” of the great accomplishments which are theirs. They will be recognized by history, but today we forget them because they do their daily tasks so casually that their heroism and the vital place which they fill in our world passes almost unnoticed, and certainly unsung in the present.

Miss Thompson and I left Hyde Park this morning early, since I am spending the day in New York City attending a summer session forum at Hunter College at 12:30.

195

August 14, 1942

Salisbury, North Carolina – (Thursday)
I left New York City on the evening train and arrived this morning at Salisbury, North Carolina. I am spending the day at the General Convention on Christian Education of the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church, which is conducting a forum for young people and speaking to the whole group. I take an evening train back to Washington.

Yesterday, in New York City, I had a most interesting time at Hunter College since there were a great many questions to make the forum held there interesting.

I had a pathetic letter the other day from a mother, who said she had been entirely dependent on her son, who has now been drafted. I think it came to her as an unexpected blow, because he was no longer among the very young group, being 39 years old. The woman, herself, is 59 and has to care for her 83-year-old father. She did not see how she was going to be able to live on the old age pension obtainable for her father, and the allotment which her son could make and to keep her home, in which she had lived so long and where she had planted a victory garden.

The Social Security Board is deeply concerned about such situations. They participated in the drafting of the Servicemen’s Dependents Allowance Act of 1942, but all of their recommendations were not incorporated in the Act when it finally passed. Wives and children have fixed allowances, but cases a little out of the ordinary are not clearly dealt with as yet.

Now I must tell you about something which is being done for members of the Merchant Marine in our little sister Republic of Uruguay. Some public spirited young men of the British community in Uruguay conceived the idea that there ought to be a haven where officers and men of merchant ships, sailing under any of the United Nations’ flags, could go to enjoy themselves during their stay in a foreign port.

“Liberty Inn” was started. There visitors may obtain food and beverages of the best kind at reasonable prices. There is a billiard table, card tables, table tennis, dart boards and a quiet room for letter writing. Perhaps the nicest part of the service is that the Inn arranges for a launch to call on all vessels lying away from the quay side when the day’s work is over, and at a nominal cost any officer or member of the crew may go ashore for the evening.

Here is the most remarkable thing about this whole undertaking – the only paid person is the caretaker who lives on the premises. Everything else is done by voluntary helpers in their spare time. Incidentally this is a man’s project, no ladies are allowed in the Inn.

196

August 15, 1942

Washington – (Friday)
Yesterday, in Salisbury, North Carolina, was a really busy day. In the morning, the YMCA arranged for some kind ladies to take me to see the town and one of the big cotton mills. The town of Salisbury has some beautiful old houses and the trees are very fine, which adds great attraction to many of the streets.

The cotton mill is one of the biggest in that neighborhood, known as the Cannon Mills. They employ some 16,000 people and have evidently been very enlightened in their dealings with their employees. I was told they had established a building and loan fund, and encouraged the ownership of house and land by their employees. If work is slack, the building and loan fund does not collect any payments during the layoff period.

They have a most beautiful building in which the YMCA and YWCA are housed, and they told me that this Y has the biggest membership of any in the United States. It certainly was being used by young people when we went through there. It is decorated in good taste, which they credit to the two Mrs. Cannons, who take a great interest in the activities of the Ys.

Mr. Cannon told me that most of the work is done on a piecework basis, and outside of a few people in the day laborer class, the average earning power of a woman is $22 a week. In view of all this, which seems to meet high union standards, I was surprised to find that the mill was not unionized, but Mr. Cannon said they had always had remarkably good labor relations ever since his father had started the mill in '88 after the War Between the States.

I lunched with a group of ladies representing all the various women’s organizations, such as the Daughters of the Confederacy, the Daughters of the American Revolution, the women’s clubs, the Parent-Teacher Association, etc.

I spent from 2:00 on the campus of Livingstone College, meeting first in a general session some 400 young colored people. I later attended their various commission meetings. At 5:30, the Mayor and I, with various other officials, reviewed a parade from the courthouse steps.

I returned to my hotel long enough to have supper. During this half hour, four of the National Youth Administration executives came to tell me of the successful training of both boys and girls for war industry on the North Carolina projects. At 7:00, I was back at Livingstone College and the evening meeting began at 7:30.

I just finished speaking in time to make the 9:35 train. A kindly crowd saw me off at the station and I signed, during the day, innumerable autograph books. I was still doing it from the steps of the train, until I decided I had better go to bed before we actually started for Washington.

197

August 17, 1942

Washington – (Sunday)
Friday was spent largely in doing mail and seeing people! At tea time, Miss Barbara Ward, foreign editor of The Economist in England, who has come over here for a few months, spent an hour with some of us on the South Porch. I think it was a most profitable hour, because it showed us that in many ways it is hard in this country to get a complete picture of what is happening in other countries.

The censor has written me a very stern letter about my remarks on the weather, and so from now on I shall not tell you whether it rains or whether the sun shines where I happen to be. I imagine that it is permissible to mention whether it is hot or cold, and I can tell you with joy that it was cool enough on Saturday to take a walk in Washington with pleasure.

In talking with Mrs. Florence Kerr of the WPA yesterday, I learned one thing which pleased me very much. Among the WPA projects which have been closed down is the Braille project. However they have found hundreds of canteen utensils which have been dented and bent, but which under clever fingers and the use of Braille machinery, are now made to look like new utensils.

I have a delightful letter in my mail, which reads:

Dear Mrs. Roosevelt,
I am sending you a copy of a poem two of us soldier boys wrote while in the Sixth Evacuation Hospital. This poem expressed the thoughts of every soldier whose loved ones neglect to mail the necessary letter. This poem is our humble effort to tell the people of the U.S. how we soldiers actually feel about our mail. If you can use this poem in any way to help the soldiers, we heartily give our consent.

Sincerely yours,
Corporal … and Private First Class…

Here’s the poem:

A Soldier’s Lament

What’s the matter? Out of ink,
Or is your pen on the blink?
All I want is one nice line,
To let me know that you are fine.
It sure is nice to get a line
From some one that’s so divine.
A letter a day in such a way,
Will put the spirits into play.
From an old friend, a letter is dear,
I hope I am making myself clear.
A letter from you I pine,
Send one when you have the time.
The darkness of eve draws near,
So I must close now with tears.
Remember me while we’re apart,
Yours truly with all my heart.

I am sure no one will resist this appeal, so I need say no more!

198

August 18, 1942

New York – (Monday)
I reached New York City yesterday afternoon, and Mrs. Stanley Backman came to tea and brought me a gift which will be a rather large addition to the collection of donkeys on the President’s desk. This one was made in Manila by the British War Relief and presented there to Mrs. Backman. She brought it back on an Army transport way across the Pacific and wrote me about it a short time ago, but yesterday was the first opportunity I could find to receive it.

As I walked into my sitting room, Mrs. Backman made a charming picture all dressed in white with fair hair, and holding under her arm this very large, white donkey. He stands up quite well and his head and ears have a jaunty look, even though the legs make him appear a little tipsy.

I was waiting for a friend in the lobby of a hotel last night, when three young people came up to me and launched forth into various questions about the war. One young girl said she had a brother somewhere in the Pacific and a second one also in the service.

The other two young people were at present less closely involved in the war situation, but I felt all of them had come for reassurance. They wanted to know that I believed that this was really their war, because in the future, they would have something to say about the world which would remain.

Last night I finished Elizabeth Goudge’s book The Castle On The Hill. One reads so much these days in the way of factual reports and books which require concentration to follow the authors’ line of thought. Therefore, a novel is something in the nature of deliberately taking a holiday and doing something that has nothing to do with one’s obligations.

I like Miss Goudge’s writing, and this book puts before one, more vividly perhaps than I have read lately, the changes that are coming about in the mind and hearts of the people of Great Britain. The boy in the book has lived in the traditions of his family. He loves the beauty of his environment and is sensitive to his surroundings, as well as to the qualities of the people with whom he comes in contact.
The hero learns how to reconcile his standards and his world with humanity as a whole, because of his work in the horrors of the London Blitz. The whole change in values touching the hearts of people and making material things so unimportant, is brought out remarkably in this story.

The end seems to me a little weak, as though Miss Goudge had not known how to draw all of her characters together in the picture and had done it in somewhat arbitrary fashion. Still, that is not important, for the charm of the book and its balm will linger after you have forgotten just how the story ends.

199

August 19, 1942

Hyde Park, New York – (Tuesday)
Miss Mary Winslow, in the Office of the Coordinator of Inter American Affairs, came to see me in Washington the other day to tell me about her trip to Mexico, which she had undertaken at the invitation of a group of Mexican women’s organizations. They called a mass meeting of women and Miss Winslow showed me some of the handbills used at it. They seemed striking in their make-up and extremely concise in the way in which they expressed the reasons for women to take an active part in the war situation.

The first handbill simply stated “Your country calls you ,” and then listed creeds and political parties. However, it had underneath them the simple phrase:

If you are Mexicans, to defend the liberty which you have created, your country calls you.

In this way was emphasized the unity of interest of all creeds and political parties. A second flier listed the various things Nazi-Fascism would wipe out, dramatizing thus in the simplest and most direct manner, not only unity, but the reasons why unity could and should exist.

Miss Thompson and I came up from New York City yesterday afternoon to Hyde Park and brought a little girl with us to add to our younger set group. The children were all at the pool when we arrived, so we put on our bathing suits and played some games and swam before we held a birthday celebration, which the children themselves had planned.

Today I have a letter from a woman, which tells me of a local political situation. In the primaries of her party, she quite evidently suspects one candidate of being pro-Nazi, and urges me to investigate the circumstances of her particular locality. I do not think it is possible for anyone, not even the leaders of a political organization, really to know in detail the exact situation in every locality. That is why we hold primaries, so that the people who live in the locality may have the opportunity to choose the best man as they see him and know him.

People who are detached from party organizations can study published principles and can stand for certain general ideas and actions within groups. But where the individual localities are concerned, it is the people who live in those localities who have to weigh the real virtues of their candidates. Sometimes neither candidate seems good enough, and they may even have to vote against their own party in the final election. The value of democracy lies in the fact that good or bad government has its roots in the localities where people know each other and where they account for their actions to their neighbors.

200

August 20, 1942

Hyde Park, New York – (Wednesday)
I read a letter reprinted in one of the magazines this morning, from a man whose usually very successful tourist motor camp was deserted because of the war. He had been asked to join with a group to urge upon Congress some relief by the government for his group during the war period.

Instead, he responded that the government should be told to think only about winning the war, and he, as his contribution to the war, should try to meet his own problems. That is a very fine attitude and one which I find in many people.

For instance, there is a woman on one of our through roads, who used to have a number of guests at her gas station and lunchroom for a meal. She sold a considerable amount in the way of articles which she was able to make in the winter; woven material, jellies, jams and the like, to these tourists.

Instead of complaining that she does not know what to do now that her business has practically disappeared, she calmly announced to me the other day that she had decided to close her house completely in the autumn and get a job for the winter months. She is sure that there must be work for anyone as strong and healthy as she is, who can cook and wash.

There must be thousands and thousands of people, men and women, who are doing their bit for the war by readjusting their way of living. They thought they would never have to change. They were settled for life and then the war changed everything.

Another woman writes me from the Southwest that she is going to move her two children into a nearby town where there is a war industry, for she cannot give them proper medical care on her husband’s navy pay. He was in the reserve and was called back and is now “somewhere in the Pacific.”

On the other hand, I must acknowledge that I’ve had letters from people who seem to be beaten by their problems, or perhaps it would be fairer to say that they really dread facing them. One young woman writes me that she has a job. Her baby was born after her husband left, but both she and the baby are well and apparently she is not in financial straits.

She feels that her mind cannot any longer stand the strain of not seeing her husband, and she wants to know why the Army does not arrange for wives to join their husbands when they are not actually on a fighting front. I, of course, am not in on the Army’s plans, but I can imagine difficulties when there is an uncertainty as to how long a particular part of the world will remain a peaceful spot.

201

August 21, 1942

Hyde Park, New York – (Thursday)
Yesterday was one of our busy days. The four little girls decided that they wished to have a picnic lunch in what my mother-in-law named “The Swan Cottage” years ago. She built it as a playhouse for her great-grandchildren. Nowadays it is used chiefly by the Secret Service men, who sit on the porch and keep their paraphernalia inside.

But the little table, chairs, sink and electric plate are still there, and these children had evidently been thinking it would be fun to play house there. So, when I had guests at the big house for lunch, they took their own lunch and ousted the Secret Service for the time being.

In the late afternoon, I picked up Mrs. Henry Morgenthau Jr. and we went over to have supper and spend the evening with the work campers at New Milford, Connecticut. This is one of several work camps run by the International Student Service. The young people, both boys and girls, work on the neighboring farms nine hours a day. They look as though the summer had so far agreed with them. One boy had left to take a job, but 23 are still making themselves useful and enjoying their evenings together.

With such long hours of work, it is hard to plan much that is either educational or recreational. From my point of view, that is one of the problems of work camps, particularly now when they are really trying to do full time jobs for the benefit of the community in which they find themselves. In peacetime they might undertake some limited piece of work, with the idea of doing manual work four hours a day and having time for other occupations.

At present, these students, who are still in college, feel that if they stay on in college in order to be better trained to serve their country later on, they must at least devote their holidays to full time work which has real value.

The questions were interesting and the discussion during the evening was animated. Still I felt that 10:00 was as late as any of these young people could well afford to stay awake. They get up at 6:30 every morning and their own camp work and a full day’s work outside, makes 10:00 p.m. the end of a long day.

I dropped Mrs. Morgenthau at her home and reached my own cottage on the stroke of 12:00, to find three people still awake and waiting for me, which was pleasant but rather hard on them.

202

August 22, 1942

Washington – (Friday)
Some of our guests at Hyde Park spent a good part of the afternoon yesterday in the President’s library, while I went through boxes, trunks and cedar chests at the big house. I found some old paisley shawls which, I am sure, have been stored away for several generations. One quilted petticoat must have been worn in my great-grandmother’s generation.

It seemed impossible that anyone could have worn anything so voluminous and still be able to walk. It is beautifully quilted and pale pink. The only thing I can think of doing with it is to put it on exhibition in the library. I am sure that many young women, looking at it, will say “Thank Heaven” I do not have to wear those now.

I did a limited amount of work yesterday on mail and reading material, which has accumulated to a horrible extent. One letter interested me very much. Five girls in Kansas City, Missouri, received training in radio work in a National Youth Administration resident project. They obtained jobs, but at very moderate salaries to start, and so they put into practice their teaching in cooperative living and took an apartment together. In a letter to the director of NYA in Kansas, they tell their own story better than I could:

Dear Miss Laughlin,
We are the radio girls writing back to let you know how we are liking our jobs and how we are getting along. We five girls are living together and getting along just fine. Our apartment is on the third floor and we have a big living room, a small kitchen and dinette, bedroom, bathroom, and two closets. The in-a-door bed is in the living room. We are very comfortably settled and like it swell. …We take turns doing the cooking, two for two weeks, and two for the next two weeks. The odd one does the odd jobs and such.

We work from 8:10 to 12, and from 1 till 5, and off at 1 on Saturday. They are quite pleasant hours to work. On the average we are making $50 a month and for the five of us it doesn’t cost us very much for rent or groceries and we are able to save quite a bit. We get paid every other Tuesday and we celebrate by eating out that night…

We certainly wish to thank you Miss Laughlin, for all you did for us while we were on the NYA. It certainly is a wonderful program and working and living in the dormitory there in Topeka was certainly a wonderful help to us all. The spirit of cooperation and working together is largely responsible for the way we are getting along so well together up here. Anyway, we are grateful to you and all the NYA there in Topeka for what you have done for us.

We still remain five of the radio girls,
DORIS KNAPP
MERRY NELSON
NADINE RABERDING
EVELYN FULLER
RUBY BOILEAU