Friday, April 12, 2013
GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
On April 12, 1945, Franklin D. Roosevelt, the 32nd president of the United States, died of a cerebral hemorrhage in Warm Springs, Ga., at age 63. Vice President Harry S Truman became president.
Read more about it HERE
This is one of those days that I remember so clearly.
I was only 8.
My Dad was knocked for a loop. He revered FDR, we had a 12 inch bust in the house. An American flag in the pedestal.
As always, in time of trouble, family trouble usually, we loaded into the car and went to my Mother's oldest sister, Aunt Flora.
The sadness of this day is palpable.
It was totally unexpected although, at 63, he looked much older.
He had led the world through the Second World War and was near victory.
No one was prepared for it but the transition went very smoothly.
FDR was buried the next day. Astonishingly fast.
Truman took control and, in my estimation, was one of our greatest Presidents. The transition was smooth. It was wartime, after all.
Funny. The day FDR died, it was also a Friday.
One other thing. For those who think vitriol is new, particularly from the other side, Claire Smith and his wife from down the street declared it "good riddance". They hated FDR. Accused Eleanor of being a "high yellow" negro (the n-word of course. "Black" was not yet used, anywhere).
I am glad that I grew up next to bastards like the Smiths. They helped me get ready for a lifetime of this kind of thing.
John and I visited Campobello Island one year on the way to the Maritimes. A road trip.
The summer house is kept just as the Roosevelts left it.
On the porch there is an empty wheel chair. There is food in the refrigerator, the real thing. When you go around a corner an ancient radio is playing one of his speeches.
It is one of the best sites of its kind I have ever seen. Only Appomatox comes close for chills and deep feelings.
