Eleanor Roosevelt – My Day (Oct. 1940)

21

October 24, 1940

Hyde Park, Wednesday –
The two hours I spent at the New York Herald Tribune Forum yesterday afternoon were most interesting, but I am troubled by the impression that people are thinking and talking today as though everything being done is in preparation for going to war. I suppose different people would explain the cause for this state of mind in different ways.

The reason seems immaterial to me. The important thing is that we should stop allowing our thoughts to run along this line. Instead, we should say:

We are not only building an impregnable defense against any attack from without or within, but we hope to discourage all thought of attack from any source.

Last evening, Mrs. Eliot Pratt and I gave a dinner for “Work Camps in America” at which Mr. Algernon D. Black, presided and Mr. Kenneth Holland of the American Youth Commission spoke. Both of them have been much interested in the work camp idea for some time and feel that a private organization, through experimental work, might develop some camp methods which would be valuable in the CCC camps and the NYA resident projects.

The idea in back of the work camp is that work in itself is valuable from the educational point of view. Work and education, particularly where these college-age young people are concerned, is a valuable combination, and the setting of these work camps is peculiarly happy for the development of real understanding of democracy. The students govern themselves, but a faculty is in attendance and the idea of inspiring youth to study and live democratically is present in everybody’s mind.

Ever since I visited the first camp at West Park, across the river from here, I have been interested in the way young people reacted to the time they spent together, so the speeches from the two young campers last night were to me a very interesting part of the evening. One other feature of these camps, which impressed me on this first visit, was the fact that the young people came from colleges all over this country. Some of them were refugee students who came from five different countries in Europe and had here their first opportunity of living really intimately with other young people in a land which was still strange, though it was to be their adopted country.

We drove up the Parkway this morning and my brilliant colors are all gone. The more subdued and darker shades are still to be seen here and there where the leaves still cling to the trees, but many trees are bare and the signs of late autumn greet me on every hand.

22

October 25, 1940

New York, Thursday –
My brother lunched with us yesterday in the country and brought me the first few chapters of a new book which he is writing on his Alaskan experiences. These experiences began immediately after he left college, so he saw Alaska in what might be called her most picturesque days. He fell in love with this part of the country, which he still considers a land of promise for the young and adventurous.

Whether you wish to follow in his footsteps or not, if the book continues to be as interesting as these first chapters indicate, I think you will all enjoy the vivid pictures of the development of this northwestern corner of our country.

A ride in the afternoon, a short time to work, and then Miss Thompson and I drove up to dine with Mrs. George Huntington at Barrytown, New York. The evening was spent listening to the radio, mostly the Herald Tribune Forum. At one point I was a little sorry for Mrs. Ogden Reid, because her forum reminded me so much of the Democratic National Convention with a chairman valiantly trying to keep order. Of course, we switched over to Philadelphia to listen to the President’s speech, though I had read it before I left Washington yesterday. Then we tuned back to the Forum till it was a little past 11:00. I hope that everyone throughout the nation spent their evening in exactly the same way. I felt it was profitable.

The closing days of the New York World’s Fair must make everyone feel that the opportunity to see much of interest will soon be over. My mother-in-law left for New York City yesterday with the firm intention of spending two days at the Fair.

When I went over to get some homespun cloth from our neighbor, Mrs. Nelly Johannesen, who spends her spare time weaving, I found her in a great state of excitement. She does not often leave home. Two school teachers board with her, she runs a little restaurant, has a gas station and is busy from morning till night. She fills the spare moment with her weaving.

There is really not much time to gad, but today Mrs. Johannesen rose early, for a friend was taking her to see the New York World’s Fair before it closes. In her enthusiastic way, she said to me:

I am going to lock up and I won’t be home until 11:00. I’m going to see all I can.

The zest for living is in her voice and face. Life has been none too easy but life has never downed the spirit of this woman who still wants to see as much as she possibly can and who, I hope, will enjoy every minute of her short holiday.

We drove down to New York City in time for a series of engagements. However, none of them are fraught with the spirit of adventure for us.

23

October 26, 1940

Washington, Friday –
I spent a little while with our son, Jimmy, yesterday afternoon while he was winding up his business trip in New York City. The necessity for reporting for duty in the Marine Reserve on November 1, requires the severance of any business connections with which he cannot keep in touch, but he seemed to feel that he had accomplished all he wanted to do when he left somewhat hurriedly to catch his plane. I gather he made it successfully, for I heard nothing further from him.

Our old friend, Major Henry S. Hooker, brought a very charming young couple to dine with me at my apartment last evening. I made a sad discovery. These younger people run up three flights of stairs and do not even puff at the top! All the rest of us climb slowly and arrive breathless. Certain limitations come to us with age, don’t they?

I took the midnight train down to Washington and found the President in fine form. I am going out to dinner tonight, so I am lunching with him today instead. It certainly is nice to see Mr. Marvin McIntyre come in again with the secretariat in the morning. He looks well and is even threatening a trip to New York City.

A press conference this morning emphasized something which has been on my mind for some days. One of the newspaper girls said that the wife of an army officer had telephoned to her office remarking on the fact that so many newspaper pictures gave prominence to the tearful farewells of the National Guard soldiers who were going to their winter camps. I understand only too well how many of these youngsters who have never before been away from home find it hard to face a year of separation, perhaps without any opportunity to go home or have the family visit.

In war time everybody is keyed up to the point of making any sacrifice. If you read Dorothy Canfield Fisher’s Petunias, That’s For Remembrance, you will realize that our Vermont and New Hampshire women were aided in the Civil War days by the fact that they had little time for repining, for the work of the farm had to be carried on by the women. But this is not war time. These boys are going for training and their families have no reason not to hope their health will be benefited, that they will get their jobs back, or that this training will be of value to them.

I think the records show that, with the free medical care, the regular life and the good food; the health of the Army, Navy and Marine Corps is better than average. Certainly the discipline and the varied types of training these boys will receive should either make them better workmen in the skills they have acquired, or give them new skills which will be of value to them.

It is true that we are not called upon to make supreme sacrifices at the present time. But we are called upon to do something which may be of infinite value to the country and even prevent us from being obliged to make further sacrifices of a more serious nature in the future.

24

October 28, 1940

New York, Sunday –
Friday afternoon, at the White House, I received the National Council of Negro Women, who are holding their convention in the District of Columbia. In the evening, Miss Thompson and I went to an annual dinner party which brings together some of our best friends in Washington, and which we look forward to every autumn.

Saturday morning, we flew up to New York City. Mrs. Genevieve Forbes Herrick gave a charming lunch at the Cosmopolitan Club for Mrs. Henry Wallace, which we both attended. From there I went to the rooms of the British War Relief Society, the Robert Burns Circle Division. They are planning their annual ball and entertainment, which takes place at the Hotel Astor on December 28.

At this party they hope to raise much of the money needed for their war relief fund, and so Mr. Newbold Morris was present yesterday to sell me the first ticket for this benefit. Both Mr. Morris and I were presented with British Emblems to wear on our coats, and I felt extremely important because a Scotchman in uniform piped me into the room. I nearly hit my head on the back of his bagpipes, but dodged just in time, and hope I looked sufficiently dignified to warrant so much honor.

Then I went as fast as the traffic would let me to the Biltmore Hotel, where Mrs. William H. Good, head of the New York State Women’s Division for the Campaign, was holding a large reception in honor of Mrs. Wallace and myself. The crowd was very great and I was forcibly reminded that New York City is a Democratic stronghold. It was pleasant to see so many familiar faces I used to see more often when we lived in New York State.

My one regret was that, because there were so many people in the line, I could not leave it to go to see my mother-in-law, who was there. When I left to keep an appointment, I was not successful in finding out where she was, so I never saw her. I had several appointments at the Biltmore and it was nearly 7 o’clock before I returned to my apartment.

Tonight I must be in Boston, and so I gave up going to the country as I had originally hoped, realizing that I could not get away in time to be home for dinner. Instead, we went to the play, a light and amusing comedy George Washington Slept Here, by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart. The leading woman’s role, played by Jean Dixon, suits her perfectly and she does it delightfully. In fact, the whole cast is good and the dialogue most entertaining. If you want a really relaxing, pleasant evening, I recommend that you join the throngs which already seem to fill the theatre every night,

25

October 29, 1940

Boston, Monday –
When we reached the home of Miss Read and Miss Lape at Westbrook, Conn., yesterday, Miss Lape and I had a half-hours’ exercise before lunch. We also walked over to see the log cabin built out of the logs they salvaged from trees blown down in the hurricane. These log houses, set some distance from the main houses, will be good places for those who want complete seclusion.

I find that almost all people who do any work requiring concentration, always look for some place a little more secluded than the one they have at the moment. They acquire a new place and, before long, all their friends appropriate it and it no longer is that secluded place of which they dreamed.

To my shame, I must record that I was politely but firmly cautioned by a very nice looking policeman that I was driving too fast for a crowded section of the road. Since I usually poke along and am passed by car after car, it seemed ironical that I should have speeded up in the wrong place. I realized he was right and was humbly grateful for my admonition and felt myself extremely fortunate at getting off so lightly.

Coming into Boston in the dark I lost my way and was quite sure I was on the wrong parkway. Finally, I did discover that I was on Boylston Street. At a garage, I was told that, if I kept on, I would eventually come to the Common where I could turn off for the Statler Hotel. This I did and, on arrival, found that I had kept Mrs. McNamara and twenty loyal Democrats waiting for half an hour.

I had so little time left in which to dress, that I could only ask them to come up and shake hands and chat for a minute. It was a pleasure to see them, particularly the younger members of the group, who were as pretty and attractive youngsters as one could wish to see.

I dressed rather hurriedly, because I was warned that the papers wished to take a photograph before we went to dinner. Mr. Louis Kirstine called for me and we went down a few minutes after 7:00 to find the Governor with two Mrs. Saltonstalls, one his wife and one his mother; the Mayor and his wife, Mr. Charles Francis Adams and many other people already assembled. This was the opening dinner for the yearly drive of the Jewish United Charity Fund. Judging by the enthusiasm of those present, I feel sure they will have no difficulty in raising the money they need.

26

October 30, 1940

Boston, Tuesday –
Yesterday morning, we rose really early and went over to John and Anne’s new apartment on Beacon Street to have breakfast and to see the baby. It is a real test, I think, of people’s dispositions when you breakfast with them and they can greet you pleasantly. Anne has found an apartment with such beautiful sunny rooms that the baby can lie and sun at his window.

Miss Thompson and I left at 9:30 for Framingham, Mass., and here we spent an interesting two-and-a-half hours seeing the women’s prison. Dr. Miriam Van Waters seems to have the power of making people feel that here is a great opportunity to learn and, if they take it, they may profit by it just as they would any other opportunity for acquiring knowledge anywhere.

She has, of course, every variety of “student,” as she calls them. They really are students. Some of them learn how to live decently for the first time, some of them learn that erudition is not real knowledge and that people who have little opportunity for academic education can often teach them something valuable.

The prison industries were interesting to me, for I had not realized that the flags for the Army and the Navy, as well as for the State of Massachusetts, were largely made by the women in this institution. The state flags are painted by hand and I should think they would require a certain amount of skill to produce absolutely correctly. There is also a clothing shop, a poultry business and a cannery. For some strange reason, the dairy is counted as maintenance and not as an industry, probably because they provide their own milk and do not sell to other institutions.

Two new buildings are a great contrast to the original one, which is fairly old. They are of the cottage type. One houses a group of young people – 17 to 21 years old – the other a group of mothers with their babies. Here child care is taught, and if the healthy looking youngsters I saw are a criterion of the efficiency of what the mothers learn in this particular course, then one can say that they are being well trained.

Mr. Lyman, the Welfare Commissioner, was with us through the morning and also some of the board visitors. A little after 1:00, I left very reluctantly to make a plane for New York City.

By 7:00, we were on the President’s train in the Mott Haven yards. Mrs. Helm, Miss Thompson and Major Hooker were with me. We dined and I had a chance to see the President and then we went ahead to Madison Square Garden, for we wanted to hear as many of the speakers preceding the President as possible. It seemed to us a very good meeting. Though the President was worried about the new development in Europe, I think he enjoyed the opportunity of talking to this big audience as well as the unseen one over the air.

Back to Boston on the night train, breakfast again with Johnny and now we are off to spend the night in Limerick, Maine, with Mr. and Mrs. John Cutter.

27

October 31, 1940

Waterville, Maine, Wednesday –
I did not have space to tell you yesterday that after I arrived in New York City Monday afternoon, I went over to the Preview Theatre to see a short film dedicated to the activities of the National Youth Administration. I hope it will be run by every motion picture theatre in this country, for it has a deeply moving story to tell. The story is that of our young boys and girls who are grown to maturity and find no outlet for their energies, no work, no experience, no chance for a start. Then a series of pictures show the projects started during the past few years by the NYA.

It is a picture which will make you feel proud of our young people and what they can do when they are given a chance. But I doubt if any one of us can feel very satisfied with the world we have created. We know that even with this program, only one out of every seven of the young people in our communities who need training or work, is getting it.

Here, before our eyes, we see the proof that we have learned how to give these youngsters training, how to give them a chance at real work on a production basis; so that they need not answer the question “what experience have you?” with that hopeless “none” which means no job. Yet, we have only developed this program for a limited number. The CCC and NYA should cover every boy and girl coming out of school who is not able to obtain work in private industry, or who is not called to service under the selective draft.

Our drive up into Maine yesterday was very lovely. Maine is full of little blue lakes and big green pines around them have a delicious fragrance. The rest of the trees are rather dwarfed and stunted and the land is certainly rocky and none too productive. However, out of it a good many people seem to have wrung a fair living. There are many good sized farm houses. The older ones are built in a characteristic way for our cold states, with the barn tacked right on to the house so that the men do not have to go out in winter when they feed the stock.

Mr. and Mrs. John Cutter’s house is way off the main road over a good dirt road which is rather narrow and winding. We were well content we did not meet any other car as we came along. When we drove in the gate, all the dogs set up a tremendous barking, for they evidently do not like intruders. Mr. Cutter came to greet us and to say that his wife was still at cooking school, but would be back shortly.

It seemed almost too good to be true that Greece could really hold her own. One cannot help hoping that this little country may have a chance to preserve its independence.