CALVIN COOLIDGE WAS NEVER AGAIN AS appealing and human as he was the night of August 2, 1923, when he was awakened in his father's farmhouse at Plymouth, Vermont. He had gone peacefully to sleep that night on the assurance of a long distance talk with President Harding's physicians that the President was on the road to recovery.
Coolidge himself told of his thoughts that night- thoughts of the sacrifices his father had made to help him to rise to a position of authority, of twenty-five-mile drives in blizzards over mountain roads to carry Calvin to the academy, of all the tender care lavished on a motherless boy. He visited his mother's grave that night, too, because it was his habit to go there whenever he was troubled.
He seemed to bring a stern but calm Yankee atmosphere to the White House. Although the Coolidge administration rocked with Congressional investigations and criminal trials