… but fear itself.”
President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s immortal quote from his 1932 inaugural address is almost the sum total of my knowledge of this amazing man. That, and the regular moments of hero worship my parents–especially my mother–lavished on FDR’s memory as I grew up. My parents were born five days apart in 1927, so while their experiences of the Great Depression are those of young children, it of course, was a period that carved itself deep into their earliest memories. My mother was much worse off in those times than my dad; for one thing, his father never lost his job with the Union Pacific Railroad. My mother, on the other hand, moved at least a dozen times in her first 10 years of life. Several of those upheavals were to live with her unemployed father’s relatives in Los Angeles. I think I cut my teeth listening to her tales of traveling across the Mojave Deseret with no air conditioning, towing a trailer filled with all their worldly possessions, and topping out the speedometer at 35 mph.
I’m raising the legacy of FDR for the purpose of recommending a fantastic new biography. I bought it yesterday and am sitting here at work right now, wishing I were propped up against a shade tree, reading it. It’s titled, simply, “FDR.” The author is Jean Edward Smith, who was a 2002 Pulitzer Prize finalist for a biography on Ulysses S. Grant. Smith also has written a well-received biography on the first U.S. Supreme Court Chief Justice, John Marshall.
In his preface to the book, Smith unfolds a map to the 800-plus pages for the reader. He says the question frequently arises as to how Roosevelt, from his old-money, blue-blood, Hudson River clan, developed such an uncanny sense of empathy for the poor and disenfranchised. Smith agrees with most historians that FDR’s lifelong struggle with polio (he was paralyzed from the waist down for half of his presidency) certainly guided his political and social philosophy. But long before he was elected president, Roosevelt had spent extended periods in Warm Springs, Ga., taking mineral springs treatments for his polio. Smith says his exposure to intractable rural poverty in the deep South began shaping his thought process years prior to his life in national politics.
Smith also firmly believes that contrary to some recent criticism, FDR had no evidence of or any involvement in the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941. He does, however, make a case for Roosevelt’s complicity in the attack. Intelligence reports suggested strongly of a Japanese plot against the U.S. that would force us into World War II, but FDR believed Pearl Harbor to be far too fortified to fall under an invasion. I’m really looking forward to reading a thorough analysis on the topic.
But the main reason I shelled out $35 (!!) for the hardcover (published in May 2007 by Random House) is that I so desperately need to learn about a glimmer of hope that lit the way in one of this country’s darkest eras. For me, and I suspect for millions of other Americans, we are living through similar parallels in this decade. Yes, unemployment is screamingly low. But as we continue to grind on in a baseless and protracted war that fewer people support and growing numbers of young men and women have no desire to fight, I have been yearning for a thorough lesson on what a real leader did in similar and harrowing circumstances.
I won’t pretend to compare the intellect of a GWB to an FDR. A greater apples and oranges comparison couldn’t exist. But isn’t that a part of the mystery so many of us want to figure out? How is it this country could go from a Roosevelt to a Bush Jr. in fewer than 70 years? Is it possible to ever find a leader with the power and humanity of FDR again? Perhaps the stink of big money has corrupted politics to the point we’ll never see a redo of a Roosevelt-like presidency. And as I said to my husband Ted last night, world power has grown so diffuse–due in large part to sweeping technological changes in communication. It’s hard to imagine something like a 2007 Yalta Conference, with a “Big Three” calling all the shots, ever again.
Still, I’m aching to know more about the man whose name in my childhood home was almost on par with Jesus, followed by Jack Kennedy. I’d love to hear from any and all bloggers who can impart memories or knowledge of the Roosevelt legacy to me and others on this space. It’s high time for a glimmer of hope again, isn’t it?