On My Own

On My Own

On My Own

On My Own

Excerpt

I rode down in the old cagelike White House elevator that April morning of 1945 with a feeling of melancholy and, I suppose, something of uncertainty because I was saying good-by to an unforgettable era and I really had given very little thought to the fact that from this day forward I would be on my own.

I realized that in the future there would be many important changes in my way of living but I had long since realized that life is made up of a series of adjustments. If you have been married for forty years and if your husband has been President of the United States for a dozen years, you have made personal readjustments many times, some superficial, some fundamental. My husband and I had come through the years with an acceptance of each other's faults and foibles, a deep understanding, warm affection and agreement on essential values. We depended on each other. Because Franklin could not walk, I was accustomed to doing things that most wives would expect their husbands to do; the planning of the routine of living centered around his needs and he was so busy that I was obliged to meet the children's needs as well.

Some of these things were in my mind as I said my farewells to the staff that Head Usher Howell G. Crim had gathered in the diplomatic reception room and in the hall near the front door of the old . . .

Search by... Author
Show... All Results Primary Sources Peer-reviewed

Oops!

An unknown error has occurred. Please click the button below to reload the page. If the problem persists, please try again in a little while.