Eleanor Roosevelt – My Day (1942)

63

March 12, 1942

Washington – (Wednesday)
I received a telegram today reminding me that it is not in my power to draft anyone, that Congress will do that when the time comes. Of course, I did not need this reminder.

I only wished that this might be done in order that we could all feel easy in our conscience. None of us, with the knowledge that young people’s lives are at stake, can be happy unless we feel that we are doing the things which must be done.

The Children’s Bureau Commission on Children in Wartime has called a meeting in Washington, to run from March 16th through March 18th. This will bring together outstanding citizens and professional leaders from many parts of the country, “to consider urgent steps for the protection and welfare of children in emergency situations resulting from the war.” Many of you may have seen reports from England, which indicate that juvenile crime has increased 50 percent on account of the unusual home conditions created by the war.

This will happen here, unless we start at once to meet the situation. The agencies which will have to work together on the problem are the Children’s Bureau of the Department of Labor, the Office of Defense Health and Welfare Services, and the Office of Civilian Defense.

This three-day meeting will cover such subjects as maintenance of school opportunities and child labor standards, civil protection of children, community services needed for children in defense areas – such as the organization of part-time care outside the home, medical care and prevention and treatment of juvenile delinquency, etc.

The attention of the nation should be focused on these problems, for we cannot neglect the welfare of our children in a time of war and expect to have a future worth fighting for.

We are shortly losing our White House greenhouse, which is going to mean that one of the things which has always been a great joy here – an almost unlimited amount of flowers – will be curtailed. We must look upon it as one of the things we have to give up, because it is out of the question to rebuild a greenhouse at this time.

64

March 13, 1942

Washington – (Thursday)
Last evening was most fascinating. Some years ago, young Mr. and Mrs. Dana Lamb showed the President some pictures of a remarkable trip which they took along the coast of Mexico in a covered canoe they had made themselves. Last night they came to show us the pictures of another trip through the heaviest jungle country in Central America.

They lived with a lost tribe while they searched for a lost city. Their supply of films ran out, so they came back to civilization, heard of the war and came home. I am sure that someday they will go back to explore this fascinating country.

The marvel to me is that a woman can harden herself to endure the discomforts of such a trip and yet look as finished and fragile as ever on her return to civilization. Mr. and Mrs. Lamb decided to be explorers when they were youngsters in school together, and ever since their marriage they have carried out their dreams. Some of the pictures of Central America are so beautiful you long to see this country, though I am afraid the insects and snakes would keep me away.

We also saw a film of some of the National Youth Administration defense training shops. This seemed to me exceptionally good and I hope it will be shown in commercial theatres, because I doubt whether many people know how very thorough and varied is this training, open to both boys and girls.

This morning the Girl Scouts came to present me with a box of cookies in commemoration of their thirtieth birthday. Later a Mr. Chatterjee, a very interesting man from India, came to talk to me about his plan of organizing an army of pacifists militantly to fight for peace. I am afraid I was rather discouraging, for it is rather difficult for me to see how this could be done at the present time.

I have just been told that the Defense Bond plan used by Northwestern University, originated here at Georgetown University, and that the executive secretary of the Georgetown Alumni Association was called to the Treasury Department to help other organizations to acquaint themselves with the plan. Whoever was originally responsible, it seems to me such a good idea that I hope it will be used by many organizations.

65

March 14, 1942

Washington – (Friday)
Yesterday I finished John Steinbeck’s new novel, The Moon Is Down. It is quick to read and you will hardly want to lay it down. Mr. Steinbeck has laid the scene in a small conquered country, but, of course, it is pertinent to any country where free men live.

The mayor of the town describes himself as a “little man.” In other words, he is one of the people. Therefore, in explaining to the colonel of the invader’s regiment why he simply cannot order certain things to happen, he says:

You won’t believe this, but it is true; authority is in the town. I don’t know how or why, but it is so. This means we cannot act as quickly as you can, but when a direction is set, we all act together.

From this it follows logically to the conclusion, where the little man knows he is to die. The mayor turns again to the conqueror, who can never conquer the souls of free men, and says:

You see, sir, nothing can change it. You will be destroyed and driven out… The people don’t like to be conquered, sir, and so they will not be. Free men cannot start a war, but once it is started, they can fight on in defeat. Herd men, followers of a leader, cannot do that, so it is always the herd men who win battles and the free men who win wars.

This book is written dramatically, and I understand the play will open in New York City at the end of this month after a very short tryout in Baltimore. It should be a stirring dramatic performance. Difficult parts, perhaps, to act, for the tendency will be not to make these people ordinary people. If that can be done, however, how very heartening it will be to all of us everywhere to see ourselves on the stage and to realize that not only great people win wars and rise to heroic moments, but you and I, the average people, play great parts and have great moments too.

Mr. and Mrs. William R. Bascom came to lunch today to bring me casts of African bronzes from Nigeria. The originals of these casts were in an exhibition brought back by Mr. Bascom from Nigeria and shown in New York City last winter.

Mr. Bascom is an expert on West Africa, having had a research fellowship in social studies among the people there. There is a great dignity about the heads which he brought me, and I know the President will be much interested in seeing them. These continents where there are natives practically untouched by our type of civilization, will become increasingly interesting to us when this war is over.

66

March 16, 1942

New York – (Sunday)
I left Washington Friday night by train and arrived in Cleveland, Ohio, Saturday morning. After breakfasting with Mrs. Mildred Jaster, Democratic National Committeewoman, and Dr. Howell, I took the bus to Oberlin, Ohio. There I was the guest of President and Mrs. Ernest H. Wilkins, and spoke in the afternoon at Oberlin College.

The intercollegiate conference being held there was sponsored by the International Student Service and the Oberlin Committee for Democratic Action. I was asked to talk on youth’s stake in the reconstruction.

We reached New York City by train on Tuesday morning. It was foggy all day in Ohio. No weather for flying and even our train was an hour and a half late.

I decided that, on this trip, I would try to catch up on all kinds of pamphlets and manuscripts which I have been carrying back and forth in my brief case for months. I had crammed my knitting bag with as much as I could carry.

I am sure that people who think I never will pay any attention to the things they have sent me, will be surprised in the course of the next few days to find that I have finally done some reading.

The President has a friend who is deeply interested in the sea and every type of vessel that sails upon it. For years he has been making models until his collection has become one that will someday, I imagine, be the best historical record of ships built to scale that we have in this country. The other day he sent me the story of a Swedish ship, which many Americans have known as the Kungsholm.

She was famous as a transatlantic liner and cruise ship of the Swedish-American Line. She has now been purchased by the United States Maritime Commission and renamed the John Ericsson. and will be operated in our service.

Russel Crouse is the author of a short article which pays the ship a tribute, and which is printed in the American-Swedish Monthly. Like so many men of the sea, he feels that the Kungsholm has a personality and she knows and rejoices in having a share in the fight for freedom.

He closes with an interesting paragraph:

She couldn’t have gone on being lighthearted in a world where hearts are heavy. But I am sure too, that she sees bright days and smooth seas – free seas again beyond the storms. We who know her are proud of her. God guide her safely to port.

67

March 17, 1942

Washington – (Monday)
Yesterday, in New York City, was spent partly in seeing people with whom I had appointments, and partly in trying to allocate the things which have to be packed in our two houses.

I went to my broadcast and was met there by a young woman who had sent me a questionnaire for her magazine article, and was not very well satisfied with my answers. She felt that if she could see me, I would give her more satisfactory information, so we journeyed back to the house in a taxi while she tried to gather the answers she needed.

I took the night train back to Washington and found that the crowd was so great that they were running it in three sections. There is certainly no lack of people travelling these days by train and plane.

I noticed a New York Times editorial, which mentions the anniversary of the death of Benjamin Russell Hanby of Ohio. I think it is a good sign that, even in the midst of war and rumors of war, we can stop to think about a composer who has given us pleasure and to celebrate the writing of an old song such as “Darling Nelly Gray.”

This year is the 21st anniversary of the founding of the National Society for Crippled Children. They are, as usual, conducting their Easter Seal sale between March 10 and April 5. This sale finances them during the year, and it is important for them to keep on with the good work they have been doing. It is so easy to forget our usual concerns in the midst of new demands, that I feel we should all mark civic and charitable community obligations down in our memory books where they cannot be forgotten.

I am sorry that I did not get in yesterday to see the preview of the International Flower Show in New York City, but I hope to see it when I return this week. Mr. John E. Lager is exhibiting a new orchid which has been named after little Diana Hopkins. It is called “Diana Victory” and was presented to her at school last Saturday. The orchid will be entered in competition for the gold medal award at the Flower Show.

Mr. Lager will also show rare orchids from all the lands which are at present being ravaged by war – Java, Burma, Malaya, India and the Philippines. I had not realized orchids grew in all these countries, for I thought of them as coming to us primarily from Latin-America. Since we grow them here now in our greenhouses, I imagine that with the fortunes of war, we may someday send them back to start again in the countries where they originated.

68

March 18, 1942

Washington – (Tuesday)
Mrs. Helm, Miss Thompson and I went down to Annapolis, Maryland, yesterday. Every year I have been asked to speak to the women’s club there. I begin to feel a little bit apprehensive that they will grow weary of having me speak to them so often, even though for me it is always a very pleasant occasion.

Lunch with the wife of the Superintendent of the Naval Academy is a delightful prelude to the afternoon meeting. Just now, the Superintendent is Adm. Beardall, who was the President’s naval aide for some time. Mrs. Beardall told me that even though they had been there only a few weeks, they have had a number of guests, among them the Norwegian Crown Prince and Princess and their two daughters. I think the two little girls must have had a wonderful time seeing all the activities of the Naval Academy.

The boys are being hurried through their intensified training and there are usually short term officers’ schools going on as well. It seems to me that the buildings have been multiplied considerably in the last few years and there is not as much tree-shaded lawn space as there used to be. The City of Annapolis, itself, has great charm, some very lovely old houses and, of course, St. John’s College, which is quite unique.

In the evening I dined with a few people from the British Embassy, who have organized a group which meets every two weeks, the better to acquaint themselves with what the American scene is really like. I had not realized how many British people were working in Washington until last night. I found the hall packed for the meeting.

This morning I spent a couple of hours at Miss Katharine Lenroot’s conference on the war needs of children. There were a great many organizations represented there, and I am sure they will make very valuable recommendations and be of assistance to all the agencies working with them throughout the country.

This afternoon, Mrs. George Fitch is bringing Miss Grace Kim, a Korean girl, to see me. At 4:30, a group of 43 Latin-American students from Columbia University are coming in for a reception. After that, Mrs. Florence Kerr, with Dr. and Mrs. Samuel N. Stevens, President of Grinnell College, and Mr. and Mrs. Owen Lattimore, who have just returned from China, are coming in for a visit.

69

March 19, 1942

New York – (Wednesday)
A young Korean girl, Miss Grace Kim, brought me a silk flag yesterday as a token of the devotion which the Korean people feel to the cause of liberty. I could not help thinking of some of the propaganda in this country, inspired of course, by the Japanese government, which has tended to make people feel that race equality would be immediately recognized in any realm under Japan’s control.

The Koreans would like to bear witness to what it means to be under Japanese control. Race equality does not enter into it. A subjugated race does not have a happy time.

My Latin-American student guests turned out to be mature men and women, many of whom are already practicing their professions. They had come here to Columbia University to make more contacts and to gain knowledge on some very specific points which would increase their usefulness.

One young woman is a surgeon and wishes to perfect her technique so as to return to work among the women of her country. There was a teacher studying methods of instruction, a civil engineer who also taught and was much impressed by our abundance of laboratories.

All in all, it was an interesting group, but one which I should think would mean much more specialized work for Columbia University. In many cases, people in the community have had to be drawn in to provide the special experience needed.

Mrs. Enit Kaufmann, sent by Mrs. Dorothy Canfield Fisher, brought me some photographs of her water color portraits. She is a charming person, a refugee, who in gratitude for what this country has meant to her, wishes to make a portrait record of the people in this period who have contributed something to the life of the nation.

Mrs. Kaufmann will deposit this record in one of the museums, so that in years to come, people can see the soul of those who lived through this period, because she claims that only a painting can show what a subject is really like. The artist certainly has done some very charming things and I hope she will have an opportunity to achieve her objective.

Last night I went to a concert given by the Philadelphia Orchestra, conducted by Eugene Ormandy. Efrem Zimbalist, the violinist, was the guest artist and played the Brahms Concerto in D Major very beautifully. I have never before heard Mussorgsky’s Pictures At An Exhibition. I enjoyed it very much, especially the “Ballet of Chicks In Their Shells.” Every child should have that particular bit of music on a record and I understand it is available.

70

March 20, 1942

New York – (Thursday)
We spent yesterday in New York City. I was busy a good part of the day with personal things, but at 4:00, I went to the YWCA at the invitation of Mrs. John Finley, to receive some charming Chinese scrolls from the students of China. The YWCA has done a great deal of work in foreign countries for many years but it is particularly proud of its achievements in China, and rightly so. At the simple ceremony yesterday afternoon, there were many fine looking young Chinese people who are studying here.

Heavy responsibilities will fall upon them in developing the future of their country. Many of them are already doing work that would seem almost impossible of accomplishment under the present situation in China, but they are going ahead under Madame Chiang Kai-shek’s leadership, and this gives one courage to look forward to even greater achievements in the future.

China and India will probably work together very closely. The affiliation between the students of the two countries will probably be very significant in the future.

I must not forget to tell you that my children and I, who were lunching together yesterday, quite unexpectly met Mr. Louis Bromfield. We invited him to join us, and that led to much exciting and vehement talk among Franklin Jr., Ethel, Mr. Bromfield and myself.

It is a delightful combination to be a farmer and a writer. The kind of farm Mr. Bromfield runs must be an exciting adventure. Farming on a scale large enough to have the workers on the place your partners and really make it a business, is one of the things, which, if I were young, would appeal to me.

On one thing at least, Mr. Bromfield and I did agree, in spite of many arguments. We decided that to work on something you enjoyed, was an essential part of life, that the only real security which anybody has in this world is his own earning capacity.

Last evening we went to see Sir James Barrie’s play, A Kiss For Cinderella. It has all the tender imaginative charm one associates with much of his writing, but Luise Rainer’s acting really makes the perfection of the play. She is so appealing that one must love Cinderella, and, of course, Mr. Cecil Humphreys and Mr. Ralph Forbes and the rest of the cast make of the entire evening a delight and a pleasant memory.

71

March 21, 1942

San Diego, California – (Friday)
Yesterday morning, Miss Thompson made me do some work. The morning was a busy one, but I went out in time to lunch with some friends and do some errands before I prepared to leave on my cross-country trek.

It seems a very short time since I took this trip in order to be with my daughter, but long ago I had planned to go to San Diego, California, about this time to see our two sons. One never knows what may happen these days, and so I did not feel it wise to delay my visit any longer, and here I am in San Diego.

Our boys have been extremely busy and their wives have settled down to the kind of life which adjusts itself to the hours which war service demands. War has given us, however, an appreciation of the good fortune we enjoy whenever we can be with the people we love. We know that tomorrow, or next week, or next month, they may not only be out of our reach, but beyond our knowledge.

Their safety will probably depend on the fact that we, as well as all others, will not know where they are and, naturally, we cling all the more to even semi-normal times together. These are days to store up memories which will see us through whatever may lie ahead.

You must have been as glad as I was the last few days, to read of the safe arrival of Gen. MacArthur in Australia. It is good news, it lifts the spirit and gives us a sense of how unimportant any of our own small sacrifices are. If only we can achieve quickly that point of military superiority which alone means peace will someday come to us again.

I am very happy to see that there is established a War Relocation Authority, which will have charge of the program for relocation and employment of persons who must be moved out of military areas. Unfortunately, in a war, many innocent people must suffer hardships to safeguard the nation. One feels that a program which provides work is certainly better than having nothing to do.

72

March 23, 1942

Coronado, California – (Sunday)
All travel today is more or less uncertain and may be interrupted. I discovered this on my trip across the country, when just beyond Tucson, I learned that the plane was almost entirely filled with ferry pilots. I think there were just two other civilian travelers besides me, who had been allowed to make the trip without interruption. One of the boys had an advance release of Mr. Archibald MacLeish’s speech, which was delivered on the 20th, and it was passed around and read.

It led to much discussion, but there was general agreement with his thesis that the will of the people determines the final outcome of any war. I think the will of the people is pretty well set in this country, except for occasional slight confusions created by certain interests on one side or the other. They may succeed temporarily in gaining some particular point of interest to their group, but if we hold to the old theory that it is impossible to fool all of the people all of the time, we shall probably feel that whatever is the truth will eventually reach all the people.

Since I missed the morning plane on Friday for San Diego, I took the train and the trip was not without interest. The first person to speak to me was Mrs. Bancroft from San Diego. She and her husband have written a book on Southern California. They studied the bird life of the region for years, incidentally becoming very familiar with the geography and the Mexican people. Their knowledge has been of use in our preparation for defense and she was kind enough yesterday to send me her husband’s book, which I know the President will enjoy.

I enjoyed also talking to a freelance writer, who is evidently the kind of man who does not think that you can put your liberalism up in camphor balls when the going is hard and take it out unharmed when difficulties come to an end. One hears this argued so much these days, that it is sometimes difficult to decide where common sense and patriotism end and self-interest begins.

Johnnie, Annie and Rommie met me at the station and we spent the rest of the day very quietly with Johnnie, Annie and their little boy. On Saturday, I moved over to spend the night with James and his wife, and had the pleasure of meeting two of his superior officers and saw the stations where both boys work. This morning I am leaving for Los Angeles.

73

March 24, 1942

Seattle, Washington – (Monday)
I begin to dislike heartily saying goodbye to people these uncertain days, and yet that seems to be our lot. I left San Diego Sunday morning, did my broadcast in the afternoon from Los Angeles, lunched with some friends and started my journey up the coast to Seattle before dark.

Southern California is very beautiful with its flowers and waving trees and houses covered with vines. I can quite understand the feeling of the gentleman, who said to me as we came into San Diego:

I never return to Southern California without realizing how rich it makes me feel. We seem to have so much given us lavishly by nature.

He had to add that, for the moment, man was reducing some of these riches. He was crowding in a little too quickly on a city that was not quite prepared to receive him in such numbers, or so rapidly. However, this condition is something which can be remedied and the climate is a permanent gift.

Strangely enough, I suppose if you live long enough in certain places, their very familiarity makes you feel an affection for them. In spite of the beauty, which I acknowledge and enjoy when here, I never have any desire permanently to leave the countryside which for me has been “home” during most of the years of my life. Nature is not so kind, winters are hard, summers are sometimes too hot, sometimes too cold, the lot of the farmer and gardener is always a gamble, and yet I like the change of seasons.

I would miss never having a landscape covered by snow. The coming of spring seems to be more wonderful because of the extremes that lie before it and beyond it. No coloring in the world seems to me more brilliant than an autumn hillside, with scarlet and gold maple and russet oak leaves mixed in with the evergreen of pine and hemlock.

I forgot to tell you that Madame Genevieve Tabouis brought me her book the other day. She may be a modern Cassandra, but I have an idea her experiences may be valuable reading for some of the rest of us. I look forward to dipping into this book as soon as possible.

Also, I should have told you long ago about America’s Housekeeping Book, compiled by the New York Herald Tribune’s Home Institute and published by Scribner’s. It is the best aid to the young housekeeper I have seen and full of useful information, no matter how experienced you may be.

It is pleasant to be back with my daughter and son-in-law and I am particularly glad to find her rapidly regaining her strength.

74

March 26, 1942

Seattle, Washington – (Wednesday)
Seattle is certainly giving me beautiful weather. I cannot help being somewhat envious of daffodils in the garden and flowering shrubs in actual bloom, when I realize that I shall probably return to find the countryside at Hyde Park still looking as though Spring is far away.

I have a letter from a lady who lives near here and who read in the paper that our White House greenhouses would have to be demolished. She feels that this is a very heartless performance because she loves flowers and says that many people long to have even a small greenhouse, so to demolish one that is in service seems to her a wanton waste. Unfortunately, people who live in the White House have little or nothing to say about it. The grounds of the White House, like the parks of the City of Washington, are under the direction of an Army officer.

The greenhouses happen to be across the road from the Bureau of Engraving and Printing. Those who plan cities decided there must be a road where the greenhouses now are, and that wartime was not the time when one should spend money for new ones. No one in the world could be more regretful than I am to lose the greenhouses. I am fully aware of what it will mean in years to come to other people, for I have enjoyed the abundance of cut flowers, plants about the house and beautiful, decorative ferns and palms, probably more than anything else since I have been in Washington.

Above everything else, I have enjoyed being able to send flowers at Christmas and Easter time, not only to friends and officials, but to hospitals and churches, long a White House custom. At other times, it has been possible to send flowers in far greater profusion than if they had to be bought, to people who were ill.

I can, therefore, say to my correspondent that she does not begin to know how much I shall miss the White House greenhouses. I am sure in the future, whoever comes to live at the White House will feel as I do. This is a war measure, however, and we must bow to the decisions of the Bureau of the Budget and whatever government and Congressional officials are involved.

Last evening, we had a nice talk with two boys from Seattle College, who are at present working at the Boeing Plant. One of them was at the institute conducted by the International Student Service at Campobello last summer. I am always glad to see these young people again when I am out here.

75

March 27, 1942

Chicago, Illinois – (Thursday)
Last evening, before I left my daughter’s home, we celebrated very gaily at a joint birthday party. My eldest granddaughter and my son-in-law, John, were born on the same day, and so they share their birthday festivities. Sistie is 15, which has always seemed to me a very important birthday.

I felt I was as old at 15 as I have ever been since. The autumn of that birthday, I left my grandmother’s and went abroad to a school and was more independent during the next three years than I have ever been since. As I look back on those three years, I think that I learned and matured more mentally in that time than in any other period of my life. To me, of course, today my granddaughter seems far younger than I was at her age. Yet, I imagine that, given the same responsibility, she would be quite as capable of coping with whatever circumstances arose.

On my 15th birthday, my grandmother gave me a ring which had been given to her on her 15th birthday. She had given it to my mother at the age of 15 and after my mother’s death, put it away and kept it for me. When Anna was 15, I gave it to her, and yesterday she gave it to her daughter. That is really quite a record I think, for things seldom go through five generations without being lost somewhere along the line.

I took the plane for New York at 8:30 last night with the promise that the weather was “routine” all the way. I always receive that news with satisfaction and am very glad when it proves true. On this trip, on the whole, the weather has been remarkably smooth whenever I have been flying, though we did have a few little “bumps” on the way into Los Angeles over the mountains. I was very happy to leave my daughter this time in her home instead of a hospital. Though she will have to be careful for a little while, she is certainly on the road to complete recovery.

I have read a good deal on this trip and talked to a number of people, which I always find interesting.

It was sad news to read of two more of our destroyers being lost. I cannot bear to think of the many women whose hearts ache for the boys and men who are lost with each of these ships; as well as any one of the airplanes that fail to come back from a raid, or that crash somewhere in this country or in foreign parts. These days are terrible ones for the men themselves and for the women who wait at home for news. So many of the boys are very young and, under ordinary circumstances, would have their whole lives still before them. I wonder if women in every country are making up their minds that out of this war there shall come some kind of permanent peace.

76

March 28, 1942

New York – (Friday)
Here I am back in New York City and I can hardly realize I only left Seattle the night before last!

I ate breakfast on the plane yesterday with a quiet looking gentleman, who was almost my own age, and I thought, therefore, beyond very active war duty. I discovered, however, that he had been to Seattle to see his family for the first time in a year, and was serving in one of the most dangerous branches of the service today – the Merchant Marine.

He had just returned from a trip to far distant shores. I felt that, even if he had been torpedoed, he would find it very difficult to mention it, and would consider it all in the day’s work.

During the day, I read Clara Lambert’s I Sing America and Harry Scherman’s pamphlet The Last Best Hope of Earth, which was written before we were actually in the war. It still says many things that need to be said. For instance, the recognition that the world is tied closely together economically and that one of our troubles is the lag of our recognition of this politically.

That fact cannot be repeated too often. Out of this struggle must come a unification by agreement among the peoples of the world, not imposed upon us by force, as Hitler’s victory would, but by conference and mutual understanding.

After dinner last night, a friend drove me over to the Naval Hospital in Brooklyn, where I saw Franklin Jr., who will be laid up a few days longer, but will, I am sure, be ready to rejoin his ship as soon as it returns from present duty.

I am going to Boston today to speak at the Wellesley College Forum tonight. This meeting is sponsored by the International Student Service and the Wellesley College Forum. I shall return to New York City by the night train.

As usual, there is plenty of mail awaiting me. On the whole, the most engrossing piece of work immediately ahead of me is moving out of these New York houses. I must see that everything is sent to the people who really want it, and get into our new apartment, because I hope very much that we shall not move again in New York City. I feel I have now reached an age where I can reasonably expect to stay, wherever I go for the rest of my life.

77

March 30, 1942

Hyde Park, New York – (Sunday)
The trip by air to Boston on Friday afternoon was smooth and pleasant, and I was glad to have Mr. John Sargent with me.

I wonder whether PM is becoming to you as interesting a paper as I find it. There is barely a day when some article in it is not worth reading from beginning to end. Long ago, Mr. Louis Howe told me that a good newspaperman put into the first paragraph of his story all the essential news, because so few people ever read more than the first paragraph. Since the great majority of people never read anything but the headlines, I have always thought of what a terrible responsibility the headline writers carry.

I always read at least the first and last paragraphs of anything which seems to me a really important story. But it is only now and then that one finds something which holds one’s attention from first to last, not only because it is well written, but because it is on a subject of vital interest at the present time.

On this trip, I also read Mr. Raymond Clapper’s article in Liberty about “Mrs. Roosevelt.” It is so interesting to get to know a stranger. There are a few slight errors in fact, but psychologically, I am sure he is right – I made him dance because of my childhood repressions. I hope when he returns from India, he will come and tell us of his impressions. I promise to be a good listener and not make him dance.

There will be no newspaper dance this year, for like all other entertainments which are purely for pleasure, it will be given up for the duration of the war.

I enjoyed my short time at Wellesley very much. It has a beautiful campus and Miss McAfee’s home there is charming inside. The view is what impresses one most. Miss McAfee is one of the people with whom one would like to spend more time than a brief visit permits.

I caught the night train back to New York City very easily and ran into a group of sailors in the station who kept me signing autographs, while I waited at the ticket window to collect my accommodations.

Back in New York City, I spent yesterday morning visiting the Naval Hospital and two friends who have been ill. After an early lunch, Miss Thompson and I came up to Hyde Park. There are few signs of spring as yet, but it was good to take a walk through the woods in the late afternoon and to have a quiet afternoon before the fire. Today is a beautiful day and we shall not have to start back to New York City until after lunch.

78

March 31, 1942

New York – (Monday)
Yesterday morning, in Hyde Park, the day dawned gloriously; a blue sky and cold, crisp weather. I went out to discuss the best place for a garden with the man who does the outside work. We are going to plant extra things for ourselves and for preserving purposes and winter use, as well as some things which we can contribute, if necessary, to the school lunch program, should their supplies from surplus commodities be reduced this coming year.

I found considerable concern about how we are going to manage on the place with only one station wagon, which I have told them to use only once a week for going to town. I suggested mildly that I thought it was time we made the rounds of our neighbors and start some kind of a cooperative arrangement for buying supplies and, since I was not at Hyde Park often enough, I would leave it to them to get together.

It seems to me that this is really an essential first step in realizing that we are fighting a war.

Somehow or other, when I walked through the woods and as I sat in front of my fire, I realized for the first time how easy it would be to forget what is happening in the outside world, if one were not tied to it by strings of affection, or just left the radio turned off.

One change has taken place. The boy who usually delivers newspapers on Sundays, does not do so on account of tires. It only serves to make you feel even more remote from the excitement of the outside world. And we are only 70 miles from New York City and on one of the main highways!

Mr. Frederick Delano and some of his family came to lunch. Afterwards, Miss Thompson and I went back to New York City for my broadcast in the evening.

This morning, I have been to the Brooklyn Naval Hospital, have visited a friend and have done several errands. Now, before flying back to Washington this afternoon, we are taking a last look at such things as ornaments and books, because two vans will have to be packed next week with things that are going to Hyde Park.

I found my son very much elated over the gift of the book, Flight to Arras with an inscription by the author Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Franklin Jr. has found the book most interesting and filled with passages which he wanted me to read, so I must hurry and do so.

79

April 1, 1942

Washington – (Tuesday)
I returned to Washington yesterday afternoon in time for dinner and was very happy to find a number of friends staying in the house. I was able to reach a friend of my daughter-in-law’s, Mr. John W. Herbert, who happens to be here from Fort Worth, Texas, so he also joined us. After a pleasant, chatty meal, we saw the last movie in which Carole Lombard played, called To Be Or Not To Be. It was an exciting spy story. I only wish that in reality things could be done as smoothly and as easily as they are in the movies!

It was curious on the flight down to see more and more snow as we approached Washington. Even today, with a cloudless sky overhead, there still are patches of snow along the sidewalks and over our White House lawns. I only hope the little spring flowers coming up, were not hurt. The storm seems to have brought down a number of branches from our trees, but no great damage is done, so it cannot have been as severe as some of the pictures I saw in the papers made me think.

Our magnolias are out and I see some forsythia actually in bloom, as well as buds on many trees and shrubs.

I am tremendously interested in the modern embroidery brought to me by Mr. and Mrs. Owen Lattimore. They have now sent me the letter which accompanied this embroidery, which is a gift from Madame Chiang Kai-shek. The letter is so full of confidence and hope for the future that I want to share it with you and, therefore, quote it here.

Headquarters of the Generalissimo of China

Chungking, Szechuan
12 January, 1942

Dear Mrs. Roosevelt,
These eight immortals gladly stepped out of their frame on a Chung King wall to fly to you. I hope you will bid them welcome and find a place for them in your home. They wish to assure you, as they have assured me many times during these years of bloodshed and suffering, that the world of war and woe is but a passing thing, however necessary it may be, for over the edge of the horizon lies a path leading to universal harmony and world brotherhood.

With all good wishes,

Yours sincerely
MAY-LING SOONG CHIANG (Madame Chiang Kai-Shek)

80

April 2, 1942

Washington – (Wednesday)
This has been a busy day. Mr. Koussevitzky, who conducted the concert for the benefit of Russian Relief last night, and Mrs. Edward Watson, came to lunch. I was delighted to hear that he hopes to continue the music school at Stockbridge, Mass., this summer and already has 400 applications.

I was afraid that the tire shortage and similar problems might keep people from attending the concerts, but perhaps trains and busses can be used. Certainly, music-loving people will make every effort to be there, for there is no more delightful spot in which to enjoy music.

Two groups of young people, who are visiting Washington, were received during the afternoon. I only hope that these young people get a sense of the way in which everyone is working in Washington, for it will give them a realization of the need for their own participation in the war effort where they live.

At tea time, Dr. and Mrs. Edward Endicott Peabody came in, and it was a joy to see them both. Miss Ruth F. Woodsmall also came in to talk over her trip. She is leaving today on an extended tour to Mexico and South America to represent the YWCA. She spent much time before in Europe and the Far East and is familiar with the work done by the YWCA the world over.

The effort to make YWCA work more valuable to our neighbors to the south of us and to bring closer understanding between the Protestant organizations and all existing organizations now working in these countries, should be of great value in developing better understanding, especially among the women.

Miss Woodsmall is travelling by air and it was interesting to reflect how much a year has changed our point of view. We used to think that air travel, especially over the ocean, was somewhat hazardous. Today it is looked upon as being far safer than any passenger steamer.

Last night, Mrs. Kermit Roosevelt, who is staying with us, Mrs. Cameron Clark, Mr. Walter Thayer Jr. and Mrs. David Bruce, came to dine with me, and then we went to the concert given for Russian Relief. We enjoyed every minute of it, and I was so happy I could be back in Washington to attend it.

I am returning to New York City this morning, for I am going to be busy there for several days, sorting and packing.

81

April 3, 1942

New York – (Thursday)
I came up to New York City yesterday and spent a little time in the afternoon with a friend who has been away for some time in the armed services, and who finds it quite thrilling to get back and see some of his old friends again.

Last evening, I read some articles in the April magazines. I was very much interested in Mr. Oswald Garrison Villard’s account of Sir Stafford Cripps.

There seems to be a great variety of opinion about the gentleman. It arises, I imagine, from the fact that he has been fairly consistent in certain principles and not easily swayed by the experiences of particular situations. That trait may have both advantages and disadvantages.

There are times when public men must be able to accept ridicule and defeat, and wait for time either to prove them right, or to give them another chance. There are other times when it is probably wiser to compromise on half victories, so long as the trend is in the right direction. To do this effectively, however, and wisely is a very difficult thing.

The article cites Ramsay MacDonald as one of the people who may have compromised too much. No one can really judge that without an intimate knowledge of the entire political situation of that period. Of one thing I am sure, from my slight personal acquaintance with the late Prime Minister, that whatever he did was not done from motives of self-interest, but because he deemed it best for the people as a whole.

He may well have been mistaken, for as we grow older, we tend more to compromise. That is why I believe we should always have youth and age together when decisions of importance are made in government circles. The two points of view are needed to balance the scales and achieve wise decisions.

There is an article called “American Negroes and the War” by Earl Brown, which I hope all of us will read. Some of the statements made I know to be true, many of them I have not checked and cannot vouch for, but that is not important. Today what concerns us most deeply is the necessary change in attitude on the part of the white race.

The psychology which believes that the white man alone of all the races in the world, has something which must be imposed on all other races, must go. We know today that our chance to live in peace in the future lies in respect for the individual, no matter what his color. We must have a willingness to accept what anyone has to contribute to civilization, and to cooperate in the difficult business of “live and let live.”

82

April 4, 1942

New York – (Friday)
Yesterday afternoon, I drove over to the Brooklyn Naval Hospital with Mrs. Allen Russell, whose husband is also a patient there at the present time. After a very few minutes with our son, Franklin Jr., the head of the hospital, Capt. Robertson, and Cdr. O’Connor came to take me through a few of the surgical wards.

There were a great many appendicitis cases and most of them seemed to be recovering comfortably. The boys from the Coast Guard cutter Alexander Hamilton, who have spent weeks in a hospital in Iceland, after being so badly burned, were lined up and I shuddered at the thought of the pain they must have lived through. On the whole, in spite of the scars which I suppose are almost inevitable, the modern treatment of burns seems to make it possible for people to obtain full use of the injured parts with a minimum of disfigurement.

I again saw the young man who was hurt on our first destroyer that was hit off Iceland, and he seemed to be coming along very well. The boy next to him is facing a pretty serious handicap, too, but both are young and we have learned so much about the use of artificial limbs these days that I feel sure both of them are going to be able to lead useful and normal lives. The great majority of people will never even notice that they carry the mark of war constantly with them.

All the boys I saw are getting every possible care, but at best a hospital is a dreary place. If you feel well enough, you read or play cards, you may have a visitor but you rarely are able to enjoy much privacy: you share your visitors with the whole ward. Hospital food becomes monotonous and all the annoyances of being ill at home are intensified.

I never go through any hospital without wishing that Providence had endowed me with some gift which might be used to entertain groups of convalescents even for a few minutes, for it does not seem to be much of a contribution just to walk through aisles speaking a few words to the boys here and there.

I went back after making the rounds and spent a little more time with Franklin Jr. and returned home to keep three or four appointments. In the evening, a meeting of the executive committee of the International Student Service was held at my house. The resignation of the general secretary of the International Student Service, Mr. Joseph Lash, who will soon be in the Army, was accepted with great regret and a real sense of loss to the organization.