Historical – Page 2 – The Intelligent Collector Magazine

Descent into vitriol began long before our lifetimes

A quarter-plate daguerreotype of President John Quincy Adams, taken at the Washington, D.C., studio of John Plumbe in 1846, sold for $31,250 at a December 2017 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

“The whole country is in a state of agitation upon the approaching presidential election such as was never before witnessed. … Not a week has passed within the last few months without a convocation of thousands of people to hear inflammatory harangues. Here is a revolution in the habits and manners of the people. Where will it end? These are party movements, and must in the natural progress of things become antagonistic … their manifest tendency is to civil war.”

If you guess this was 1964 when LBJ was set to defeat Barry Goldwater, you would be wrong. Or perhaps 1992 when Bill Clinton and Ross Perot were trying to unseat President George H.W. Bush? Sorry. You’re not even in the right century! We’re in a much earlier time, a time without 24/7 cable news and its insatiable appetite for divisive issues coupled with scores of political partisans eager to share their opinions. A time when you could not discern political bias by simply knowing the TV channel.

The year was 1840 when the Whigs were trying to oust President Martin Van Buren from the White House. It was a boisterous time and the speaker was ex-President John Quincy Adams (1767-1848). These words come from a concerned man, but then again, political speeches were more impassioned than we’ve ever heard in our lifetimes.

Eight years later, Congressman JQA, representing Massachusetts, rose in the House of Representatives to speak, but suddenly collapsed on his desk. He died two days later from the effects of a cerebral hemorrhage in the Speaker’s chambers. The public mourning that followed exceeded, by far, anything previously seen in America. Forgotten was his failed one-term presidency, routinely cold demeanor, cantankerous personality, and even the full extent of his remarkable public life.

For two days, the remains of our sixth president (and son of the second president) reposed in-state while an unprecedented line of thousands filed through the Capitol to view the bier. On Saturday, Feb. 25, funeral services began in the House. After all the speeches, and after a choir had sung, the body was escorted by a parade of public officials, military units and private citizens to the Congressional Cemetery. After the coffin remained in a temporary vault for several days, 30 members of Congress, one from each state, were ready to accompany it on the 500-mile railway journey to Boston. The train, with a black-draped special car, traveled for five days through a cloud of universal grief. The caravan stopped often to permit local ceremonies and citizens to stand in silent tribute.

Boston greeted his remains by exhibiting the insignia of mourning virtually everywhere. On March 12, every prominent politician in Massachusetts vied to join in escorting the casket to Quincy’s First Parish Church, where Pastor William Lunt delivered a moving sermon that ended with “Be thou faithful until death, and I will give thee a crown of life.” Later, Harvard President Edward Everett (of Gettysburg fame) eulogized JQA for two hours in the presence of the Massachusetts legislature, which had gathered in Faneuil Hall.

Only Abraham Lincoln’s death evoked a greater outpouring of national sorrow in the entire 19th century in America.

Eventually, JQA’s coffin was installed in a monumental enclosure with his mother Abigail to his right and his wife Louisa to his left. With the inclusion of his father, John Adams, it has become a national shrine; unique in America’s history since it marks the graves of two presidents of the United States and two First Ladies.

And what of the man who had been secretary of state and vice president for Andrew Jackson and was now trying to win another term as president? Martin Van Buren (1782-1862), the “Wizard of Kinderhook,” was surprisingly short at 5-6, and had been elected in 1836 when Jackson decided against a third term and threw his support to Van Buren.

The opposing Whigs were too divided to hold a national convention in 1836 since they couldn’t agree on a single candidate. Instead, they adopted a clever plan to support regional favorite sons with the hope they could deny Van Buren an electoral victory, force the election into the House of Representatives (as in 1824) and then unite behind a single Whig candidate to secede Jackson. The anti-Van Buren press was vitriolic and the New York American called him “illiterate, sycophant and politically corrupt.”

Van Buren remained implacable and on election day racked up 764,195 votes (50.9 percent) and his three Whig opponents were left to carve up the remainder. New York power broker and publisher Thurlow Weed summed it up succinctly: “We are to be cursed with Van Buren for president.”

However, on May 10, 1837 – only two months after the new president took office – prominent banks in New York started refusing to convert paper money into gold or silver. Other financial institutions, also running low on hard currency, followed suit. The financial crisis became the Panic of 1837. This was followed by a five-year depression that forced bank closures, economic malaise and record unemployment. Now flash forward to 1840, when Van Buren easily won re-nomination at the Democratic National Convention despite the economic woes. But the government was also mired down with major divisive issues: slavery, westward expansion, tension with Great Britain. Van Buren had not recognized what James Carville would memorialize 150 years later: “It’s the economy stupid!”

Other financial panics would continue to plague the country periodically until 1913, when President Woodrow Wilson signed the Federal Reserve Act. These wizards can create money out of thin air by using an electronic switch that coverts ions into gizmos that people will buy with money that is guaranteed by the federal government.

What’s in your wallet?

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

LBJ exhibited ambition, decisiveness, a strong work ethic … and fear of failure

Lyndon B. Johnson artifacts, including signed photographs and a Civil Rights Bill signing pen, sold for $15,000 at an October 2018 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Lyndon Baines Johnson was born in August 1908 in the Texas Hill Country nearly 112 years ago. (Tempus does fugit!). He shined shoes and picked cotton for pocket money, graduating from high school at age 15. Both his parents were teachers and encouraged the reading habits that would benefit him greatly for the rest of his life.

Tired of both books and study, he bummed his way to Southern California, where he picked peaches, washed dishes and did other odd jobs like a common hobo. The deep farm recession forced him back to Texas, where he borrowed $75 to earn a teaching degree from a small state college. Working with poor, impoverished Mexican children gave him a unique insight into poverty. He loved to tell stories from that time in his life, especially when he was working on legislation that improved life for common people.

His real power was developed when he electrified the rural Hill Country by creating a pool of money from power companies that he doled out to politicians all over the country who needed campaign funds and were willing to barter their votes in Congress. The women and girls who lived in Texas were known as “bent women” from toting water – two buckets at a time from water wells – to their homes. Having electricity to draw the water eliminated a generation of women who were not hump-backed. They said of LBJ, “He brought us light.” This caught FDR’s attention and lead to important committee assignments.

He married 20-year-old Claudia Alta Taylor in 1934 (at birth, a nanny had exclaimed “She looks just like a “little lady bird”). A full-grown Lady Bird parlayed a small inheritance into an investment in an Austin radio station that grew into a multimillion-dollar fortune.

Robert Caro has written about LBJ’s ambition, decisiveness and willingness to work hard. But how does that explain the trepidation to run for president in 1960? He had been Senate Majorly Leader, accumulated lots of political support and had a growing reputation for his Civil Rights record. He even told his associates, “I am destined to be president. I was meant to be president. And I’m going to be president!” Yet in 1958, when he was almost perfectly positioned to make his move, he was silent.

His close friend, Texas Governor John Connally, had a theory: “He was afraid of failing.”

His father was a fair politician but failed, lost the family ranch, plunged into bankruptcy and was the butt of town jokes. In simple terms, LBJ was afraid to run for the candidacy and lose. That explains why he didn’t announce until it was too late and JFK had it sewed up.

Fear of failure.

After JFK won the 1960 nomination at the Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles, he knew LBJ would be a valuable vice president on the Democratic ticket against Richard Nixon. Johnson’s Southwestern drawl expanded the base and the 50 electoral votes in Texas was too tempting to pass up. They were all staying at the Biltmore Hotel in L.A. and were a mere two floors away. Kennedy personally convinced LBJ to accept, despite brother Bobby’s three attempts to get him to decline (obviously unsuccessful).

The 1960 election was incredibly close with only 100,000 votes separating Kennedy and Nixon. Insiders were sure that a recount would uncover corruption in Illinois and Nixon would be declared the winner. But in a big surprise, RMN refused to demand a recount to avoid the massive disruption in the country. (Forty years later, Gore vs. Bush demonstrated the chaos in the 2000 Florida “hanging chads” debacle and the stain on SCOTUS by stopping just the Florida recount).

After the Kennedy assassination in November 1963, LBJ was despondent since he was sure he’d become the “accidental president.” But, when he demolished Barry Goldwater in 1968 the old Lyndon was back. The Johnson-Humphrey ticket won by of the greatest landslides in American history. LBJ got 61.1 percent of the popular vote and 486 electoral votes to Goldwater’s 52. More importantly, Democrats increased their majorities in both houses of Congress.

This level of domination provided LBJ with the leverage to implement his full Great Society agenda with the help of the 89th Congress, which approved multibillion-dollar budgets. After LBJ ramrodded through Congress his liberal legislative programs in 1965-66, it seemed that he might go down in history as one of the nation’s truly great presidents. But, his failure to bring Vietnam to a successful conclusion, the riots in scores of cities in 1967-68, and the spirit of discontent that descended on the country turned his administration into a disaster.

On Jan. 22, 1973, less than a month after President Truman died, the 64-year-old Johnson died of a heart attack. His fear of failure, a silent companion.

More than 50 years later, streets filled with a new generation, with new demands

A *Time* magazine signed by Martin Luther King Jr. realized $6,875 at an October 2013 Heritage auction. The issue is dated Feb. 18, 1957, two months after the end of the Montgomery Bus Boycott.

By Jim O’Neal

In the two decades following WW2, the African-American struggle for civil rights lacked focus and broad support. Americans had spent four long years fighting a bitter war to free the world from tyranny and were now intent on resuming a peaceful recovery. However, in the process of restoring a normal life, they became disgusted by racial segregation and systemic exploitation of minorities. As important legal victories increased, protesters and marchers were helping change attitudes as the basis for faster, more sincere progress.

Alas, irrespective of the legal triumphs and the changes in public opinion, Jim Crow segregation was deeply embedded in the Deep South and portions of the West. Discriminatory laws generally targeted Latinos and American Indians, in addition to African-Americans. All levels of state government often failed to honor court decisions, while civil rights workers were subjected to mob violence that even included law enforcement officers.

Finally, on Aug. 28, 1963, the largest civil rights protest in American history occurred when 250,000 people gathered on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., to begin “The March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom” (later known simply as “The March”). The highlight of the day was a 15-minute closing speech by the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.

In it, King offered his version of the American Dream, drawing on the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Emancipation Proclamation. It was quickly to become known as the “I Have a Dream” speech. The Dream included a hope that people “will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character,” that black and white children could “join hands … and walk together as sisters and brothers,” and that “the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.”

MLK cautioned the nation there was still a long way to go. He cited the broken promises Americans made after the Civil War. Slavery was gone, but vicious racism still existed in general society. He said bluntly, “One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.” King also highlighted the curse of widespread poverty during an era of postwar prosperity. He closed by exhorting white Americans to strive for a realization of the cherished phrase “Let Freedom Ring” and join in the old Negro spiritual that proclaimed “Free at last! Free at last! Great God a-mighty, we are free at last!”

The March on Washington was pivotal in the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, which eliminated segregation and began dismantling Jim Crow practices.

On Nov. 21, 1963, Lyndon Baines Johnson, the eighth vice president to assume the nation’s highest office following the death of a president, was better prepared to take command than any of his predecessors. Despite the personal disrespect and abuse from the elitist Kennedy crowd (especially RFK), LBJ was a master politician, serving 24 years as a representative and 12 years as a senator. As Majority Leader, he was truly “Master of the Senate,” as biographer Robert Caro has written so carefully.

The new president stayed in the background as the nation grappled with the enormous grief that engulfed Kennedy’s family and the people during funeral services for the slain president. Then, five days after the assassination – on the day before Thanksgiving – Johnson addressed a special joint session of Congress. He challenged them to honor Kennedy’s memory by carrying forward the dead president’s New Frontier program, saying “Let us continue.”

He asked for early passage of a new civil rights bill “to eliminate from the nation every trace of discrimination and oppression that is based on color or race.” Congress responded by passing every law LBJ pleaded for. Yet, over 50 years later, our streets are filled with a new generation, with new demands, as Congress is deadlocked once again. So, no new laws…

Perhaps Cassius was right after all: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” (William Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar).

John and Jessie Frémont were among our first ‘power couples’

An 1856 presidential jugate ribbon shows John and Jessie Frémont, who is often recognized as the first wife of a presidential candidate to catch the public’s imagination.

By Jim O’Neal

An old adage claims that “behind every great man stands a great woman.” There are several variations of this theme and the feminist movement of the 1970s offered a clever alternative: “Alongside every great man is a great woman.”

In political terms, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt and wife Eleanor Roosevelt (her actual maiden name) probably epitomize this concept … he with his New Deal and historic four terms as president and she with her four terms as First Lady, first delegate to the United Nations, a monthly magazine column, a weekly radio host and a civic activist. Or as Harry Truman dubbed her, “First Lady of the World.”

Pierre and Marie Curie represent another pair of great side-by-side couples, although in this case, the “great woman” probably eclipsed her husband’s accomplishments. Born in 1867, Marie Curie was the first woman to win a Nobel Prize in 1903 (which she shared with Pierre and a colleague). Then she became the first person – man or woman – to win this prestigious award twice, the second time in 1911 for her personal work in chemistry. She died on July 4, 1934, from aplastic anemia, almost certainly due to her habit of carrying test tubes of radium in her lab coat pockets. Pierre was killed when he was struck by a carriage crossing a street … probably deep in thought. It is likely he would have eventually died as Marie did since he shared her lab-exposure habits. Ironically, both are credited with the first use of the term “radioactive.”

Another category for your consideration is “Invisible Women.” Two who easily qualify are Katherine Johnson and Dorothy Vaughan, generally unknown outside a small group of space pioneers. President Obama awarded Johnson the Presidential Medal of Freedom and NASA dedicated an entire building in her honor. Vaughan was the first African-American supervisor at the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA).

They were portrayed as unsung heroes in the 2016 movie Hidden Figures, which snagged three Oscar nominations, including Best Picture. It was the little-known story of a team of female African-American mathematicians (“human computers”) who played a vital role at NASA during the early years of the space program. Their contributions or even existence easily qualify them as prime “Invisible Women,” at least to the American public.

Another perfect example is Jessie Ann Benton Frémont, the wife of John C. Frémont. She was the daughter of prominent Missouri politician Thomas Hart Benton (1782-1858), who became a state senator when the Compromise of 1820 allowed Missouri (slave) and Maine (free) to enter the Union. He would go on to become the first U.S. senator to serve five terms. Benton had been a slave owner who later recognized the injustice of the cruel practice, putting him against his party and popular opinion in his state.

John F. Kennedy included Benton in his Pulitzer Prize-winning book Profiles in Courage as an example of a senator who lost his office over a matter of principle. Future President Teddy Roosevelt wrote a full biography of Benton focusing on his support for westward expansion. Historians credit Benton with sparking TRs interest in Manifest Destiny.

Benton’s daughter was a talented young lady who was fluent in French and Spanish and fascinated with her father’s political and western expansion activities. However, gender played a role at the time and stifled her ambitions. She eventually became involved with a youthful John C. Frémont, whose expeditions into the uncharted west would earn him the nickname “the Pathfinder.” Frémont’s activities attracted the attention of Senator Benton and, almost inevitably, of Jessie.

When they met in 1840, Jessie was a mere 16 years old – 11 years younger than John. They ended up eloping since John’s pedigree was too thin for the Benton family. It proved to be a perfect match, with Jessie creating the narrative and public relations to hype her new husband’s exploits. One of the leading explorers of Western North America, Frémont was not well known when he commanded the first of his exploits, but within a short time he became one of the most famous wilderness explorers. He was known as a gallant Army officer, highly publicized author and semi-conquistador. His timing was exquisite and Americans started naming mountains and towns in his honor before his 40th birthday.

One particular trek in 1842 included Kit Carson; they crossed the Continental Divide at a new gap in the Rockies near Wyoming. Jessie’s detailed rendition of the excursion became a sensational publication that was used as a quasi-travel guide for thousands of pioneers eager to go west! However, it was an 1845 expedition that changed the Frémonts’ life. Supposedly organized to chart a faster route to Oregon, it was really a trip to survey California should President Polk negotiate the land away from Mexico. When this occurred, they headed to San Francisco. When John spotted the bay, he gave the strait its name: the Golden Gate.

John C. Frémont would become a senator when California was admitted to the Union and in 1856 he become the first Republican candidate for president (losing to James Buchanan), but not before leaving behind another adage: “Every great man needs a woman behind him taking notes.”

For all his humanitarian work, Hoover remembered for one, crucial moment

A vibrant from-life oil on canvas portrait of Herbert Hoover, autographed, realized $5,250 at a December 2017 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

With the specter of another depression on America’s horizon, my mind flashes back to the past and sad irony of Herbert Hoover. He was born in 1874 in West Branch, Iowa – the first president born west of the Mississippi River. An orphan at the tender age of 9, he was taken in, luckily, by relatives in Oregon. The Minthorns were Quakers like his parents and they taught him the value of community service and hard work.

In 1891, he enrolled at Stanford University, the first year that classes were open. He was a geology major and after graduation ended up in London with a company investigating gold deposits in Western Australia. While at Stanford, Hoover dated Lou Henry, a fellow geology major and the first female to earn a degree. Hoover proposed to her in a telegraph from Australia and they were married in California in February 1899 – two mining engineers … both intrepid travelers.

Together they set off for China, where Herbert discovered coal deposits. The hard work earned him a junior partnership with his London-based employer. This was followed by a stint in Tientsin just in time for the Boxer Rebellion in 1900 when Chinese rebels rose up against colonial powers. The couple became fluent in Mandarin, a skill they would use later in the White House to communicate in private without the WH staff listening in.

Next was a series of trips starting in Burma (silver, lead and zinc), copper and oil in Russia, and then back to Australia in a quest for more zinc. After forming his own company in 1908, their fortunes began to accumulate and by 1913 exceeded $4 million. After the United States entered World War I in 1917, President Wilson asked Hoover to manage America’s domestic food supplies. In Washington, D.C., he was successful in establishing programs to control prices, eliminate waste and promote conservation by the public. His managerial reputation was beginning to grow and his ability to cut through government bureaucracy produced results almost unprecedented in American history.

After flirting with the presidency in 1920, the ultimate winner, Warren Harding, selected Hoover to become the third Secretary of Commerce. When Harding died unexpectedly in 1923, President Calvin Coolidge retained Secretary Hoover in the Cabinet. Coolidge had observed Hoover’s work and decided to expand his formal duties. He put him in charge of the American Relief Administration to assist the recovery of post-war Europe. Hoover was more than qualified and had played a role in assisting thousands of Americans get back home when the war exploded in 1914. In addition, he had helped Belgium and France from starvation after the German invasions.

He soon became universally recognized as the greatest humanitarian alive in the world. In addition to being widely admired, he had the distinction of having an orbiting asteroid, Hooveria, named in his honor. Earlier, Assistant Secretary of the Navy Franklin D. Roosevelt had proclaimed, “Hoover is certainly a wonder and I wish we could make him president of the United States! There could not be a better one.”

By 1928, Coolidge had tired of Washington and chose not to run for reelection. The 54-year-old Herbert Hoover was certainly not tired and was eager to demonstrate his extensive experience by expanding America’s fortunes even further. He easily defeated Al Smith, the governor of New York, with help from anti-Catholic voters and the burden of corruption associated with the infamous Tammany Hall group. The newspapers excitedly touted Hoover as an innovator and set high expectations for his administration. In his inaugural address, the new president confidently declared, “I have no fears for the future of our country. It is bright with hope!” The joy of his Inauguration day, March 4, 1929, seems totally incongruous with the events of the next four years.

Just seven months after he entered the White House, economic trouble trashed his campaign prediction about “being near the final triumph over poverty.” On Oct. 24, 1929, panic enveloped the New York Stock Exchange when almost 13 million shares changed hands. There was a short respite, but on Tuesday, Oct. 29, the market basically collapsed, heralding the beginning of the Great Depression. No one expected the Depression would last a full decade, including the American Economic Association. Virtually all the experts assumed it would be a matter of months until the normal business cycle resumed. Scholars are still debating the cause of the Depression and the stock market crash is only one of the contributing factors.

Just as it was one of the factors that cost Hoover his job. He didn’t cause the crash, but an episode in 1932 certainly contributed. In 1924, President Coolidge vetoed a bill to pay war veterans a bonus to compensate them for loss of income during their military service. However, Congress overrode his veto and the money was to be paid in 1945. In 1932, 20,000 veterans marched on Washington hoping to get an advance payment to alleviate Depression hardships. Congress was considering a Bonus Bill, but President Hoover opposed it and the Senate rejected it. Veterans turned their sights on the Capitol Building, marching for three days and four nights in a “Death March.”

President Hoover ordered General Douglas MacArthur to force them back into temporary camps. MacArthur overreacted, using cavalrymen with drawn sabers and an infantry with tear gas. Six tanks joined the fray under Major George Patton. The soldiers attacked the camps and the angry veterans set their own huts on fire in protest. Colonel Dwight Eisenhower was shocked at MacArthur’s treatment and later said, “It was a pitiful scene, ragged, discouraged people burning their own little things.” The excessive use of force, especially against veterans, disgusted most Americans. Then Hoover made it worse by deriding the bonus marchers as rabble and refusing to criticize MacArthur.

When Democratic presidential candidate FDR heard about the fiasco, he simply said, “This will elect me.”

Fortunately for America, the primary issue in 1940 was staying out of war

A 1940 Wendell Willkie anti-FDR cartoon pin, featuring an image of the boy who would become Alfred E. Neuman, sold for $1,625 at a February 2020 auction.

By Jim O’Neal

In September 1940, The New York Times surprised many readers when it announced it would support Wendell Willkie for president. It was a critical time for America as Nazi Germany had swept across the democratic nations of Europe and soon would threaten England’s weak defenses. Once that domino fell, the United States would be exposed to direct attacks via the eastern routes of the northern Atlantic Ocean. It would also dispel the long-standing fallacy that our two great oceans provided insurmountable defenses.

While conceding that both presidential candidates were experienced leaders who recognized the magnitude of the threat and, short of direct intervention, clearly understood the major role America must ultimately be forced to play, Willkie was favored over FDR since his extensive business experience would make him better prepared to provide a more robust defense of America. His production experience would be invaluable to gear up the industrial base that would be required. In this role, Willkie was the professional and Roosevelt clearly the amateur.

There was also an almost unspoken concern about the next president being tough enough to defeat an enemy that had demonstrated a level of ruthlessness and cold-blooded efficiency rarely seen in modern times. Maybe it was the wheelchair that was discreetly hidden or the soft, cozy fireside chats to bolster morale during seven years of hard economic times. But FDR’s smiling, cheerleading style faded in comparison to Willkie’s tough talk about “sweat and toil,” the emphasis on self-sacrifice and the radiant confidence to rebuild our earlier superiority.

The Times had supported FDR in 1932 and 1936, but the fiscal policies of the New Deal had failed disastrously and the national debt had more than doubled in seven years. A continuation would lead the country to the precipice of bankruptcy. Looking back, it is now obvious that these concerns were totally misjudged. FDR turned out to be a wily, tough executive who managed Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin with superior strategic skills with the courage to hammer out agreements without blinking. The United States war machine cranked out planes, tanks and military men at a remarkable rate. The public support was overwhelming as the entire nation joined in. American tobacco dropped a color and advertised “Lucky Strike Green Has Gone to War.” In the process, a new era of fiscal strength evolved and the gloom of the Great Depression faded in the glare of Rosie the Riveter’s sparks. War bond parades blossomed and my family stored bacon fat in coffee cans without really knowing why. I traded comic books for butter coupons and we started eating something called “oleomargarine.”

But in 1940, breaking the precedent of no third term established by George Washington in 1796 was viewed as duplicitous. Earlier, FDR had declared, “Last September, it was my intention to announce clearly and simply at an early date that under no conditions would I accept re-election.” Now, this had morphed into merely: “He had no wish to be a candidate again.” Clearly, it was a bit of political spin that fit the revised situation. In the defeat of FDR and election of Mr. Willkie, there was an opportunity to safeguard a tradition with the wisdom of long experience behind it.

Fortunately for America, the primary issue in the campaign was staying out of war and the isolationist crusade lead by the America First Committee was having a dramatic effect on the nation. Many leading figures across a broad political spectrum vehemently demanded that America stay out. Famous aviator Charles Lindbergh was perhaps the most influential voice heard. FDR was again his usual cunning political self and promised the American people that American boys would not be fighting in any “foreign wars.” That was enough to allow him to win a substantial victory in 1940 and a coveted third term. Naturally, when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, that eliminated the FOREIGN war angle commitment and Americans were eager to seek retribution against all enemies.

An interesting epilogue to 1940, when FDR defeated the only presidential candidate with no government experience, was the death of Wendell Willkie in 1944 at age 52. He had poor health as a result of a poor diet, incessant smoking and hard drinking. Had he defeated FDR in 1940, he would have died right after D-Day but before the heavy fighting in the Battle of the Bulge, when victory was not yet assured. However, his VP running mate, Senator Charles McNary of Oregon, had died eight months earlier and for the only time in history, we would have been forced to elevate the secretary of state to president!

What would Jefferson think of New York’s population, skyscrapers and deadly plague?

A signed 1786 letter in which Thomas Jefferson writes about Shay’s Rebellion, the national debt and foreign policy sold for $32,500 at an October 2018 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

I made a mistake 30 years ago when I began reading the six-volume biography of Thomas Jefferson by Dumas Malone. The first volume was published in 1948 –– won the Pulitzer in 1975 –– and ended with volume six in 1981 (The Sage of Monticello). Malone wrote in a chronicled-narrative style that was like reader’s catnip. I felt compelled to pick up any volume … start on any page … and not wonder what came before.

Randomly picking up a volume to read was like opening a box of Cracker Jacks and eagerly looking for a prize, in this case, one of Jefferson’s many exploits: first secretary of state … second vice president … third president … second governor of Virginia … principal author of the Declaration of Independence … envoy to France … part–time inventor … doubling the size of the United States for a mere $15 million (Louisiana Purchase) … commissioning the Lewis and Clark Expedition … architect-builder of Monticello … or ending up on sculptor Gutzon Borglum’s Mount Rushmore with George Washington, Abraham Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt.

Now, while becoming addicted to Governor Cuomo’s daily Covid-19 status reports, it has stirred old memories of Thomas Jefferson and I wonder what he would think about New York City with its millions of people, tall skyscrapers, massive hospital networks and the plague that has immobilized this amazing city. Early American cities were walking cities since only the affluent owned horses. As a result, beyond a few square miles, they were generally impractical. With the advent of crude mass transit like the omnibus (a wagon or small bus pulled by horses), cities expanded into larger metro areas.

By 1855, there were 700 omnibus lines in a few cities transporting 120,000 passengers a day on bumpy, hand-carved cobblestone roads. This soon improved with the introduction of steel rails. By the 1880s, there were 525 horse–drawn rail lines in 325 cities. However, in addition to street pollution, horses broke down in alarming numbers, bringing an end to the production of buggy whips.

The first electric trolley debuted in 1888 in Richmond, Va. Horses were quickly replaced by electricity and as early 1902, 97 percent of urban transit had been electrified. More than 2 billion passengers were riding on 22,000 miles of electric rails annually. Steam–powered railroads, first introduced in the 1830s, continued to play an important role in transportation, but sheer size limited their use in cities with small, uneven roads. As the 19th century ended, electric trolleys dominated urban transportation, as steam–powered locomotives focused on regional and transcontinental uses.

Yet America’s largest cities, especially New York, had been trying to incorporate railroads as early as 1850. First was a rail line that followed the contours of the Hudson River and catered primarily to commuters. Then NYC introduced an elevated platform with full-size trains, electrified with a third rail providing the power and traversing above the city streets. Chicago and Boston tried similar versions until the 20th century introduced a new-modern concept for train transit.

New York City pioneered the first subway: full-size trains in massive tunnels that had been dug under city streets. The maiden trip was on Oct. 2, 1904, and eventually expanded to include 468 stations and 656 miles of commercial track. Thus, the world–famous NYC subway system that we know today … and a detour to pose a question asked by historian Carl Becker: “What is still living in the political philosophy of Thomas Jefferson?” and your host’s amateurish reply.

The first blow was the Civil War, which destroyed the political primacy of the South … slavery and the doctrine that the states were sovereign agents bound together in a federal compact. Then the 1890 census revealed that the frontier phase of America’s history, made possible by Jefferson, was gone. The 1920 census reported the majority of American citizens lived in urban rather than rural areas. These demographic changes transformed Jefferson’s agrarian vision into a nostalgic memory.

Then the 1930s New Deal capped the urbanization, industrialization and increased density of the population. Roosevelt’s appropriation of Jefferson as a New Deal Democrat has been called “one of the most inspired acts of political thievery in American history.” In fact, the New Deal signaled the death knell for Jefferson’s cherished concept of a minimalist, centralized federal government. Undoubtedly, the massive military buildup to fight the Cold War was precisely the kind of “standing army” that Jefferson truly abhorred.

Lastly, of course, was the modern Supreme Court decision in 1954 in Brown v. Board of Education (Topeka, Kan.). This was followed by all the other decisions regarding an equal, multiracial society. The intrusion into regular order made Jefferson’s belief in legal and physical separation of blacks and whites a literal anachronism. However, I suspect Mr. Jefferson, ever the pragmatic statesman, would observe that we should liberate ourselves from the dead hands of ancestors’ or predecessors’ ancient views and seek our own.

Personally, I prefer Ronald Reagan’s uplifting words that we “pluck a flower from Thomas Jefferson’s life and wear it on our soul forever.”

Were early presidents too jaded to solve divisive issue of slavery?

An Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas pocket mirror issued to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Lincoln-Douglas debates went to auction in 2015.

By Jim O’Neal

The U.S. Constitution is generally considered the most revered document in world history. John Adams described it as “the greatest single effort of national declaration that the world had ever seen.” It was a seminal event in the history of human liberty. While containing remarkable concepts — “All men are created equal” … “Endowed with certain unalienable rights” … “Consent of the governed” (instead of the will of the majority) — the founders proved to be incapable of reconciling the practice of slavery with these lofty ambitions.

In order to gain consensus, they deftly employed what has become known colloquially as “Kick the can.” International slave–trading was banned in the United States, but Congress was denied the right to eliminate slavery per se for 20 years (1808). The assumption (hope) was that slavery would just naturally phase out without the need for formal legislation. Then there was the obvious contradiction between men being born equal while slavery was allowed to continue. The explanation was a tortured rationale that “equal” was meant to mean “under the law” and not racial equality.

We now know that rather than phasing out, slavery flourished as Southern agrarian economies became even more dependent on slave labor and geographical expansion added to the importance of the issue. So the dispute took on new dimensions as each new state entered the Union. Was it to be free or slave? The answer was up to a divided Congress to decide. In an effort to maintain harmony, Congress was forced to negotiate a series of compromises, first in 1820 and again in 1850 and 1854. Rather than continue to battle in Congress, Southern slave states turned to secession from the Union when it was clear that they weren’t strong enough to rely on nullification alone.

What the Northern states needed desperately was a president with the will-power to keep the Union intact … with or without slavery.

His name was Abraham Lincoln, a little–known lawyer from Illinois. Today, most Americans know the major details of the life of the man who would become the 16th president of the United States. His humble upbringing in a pioneer family, his rise from lawyer to state legislator and presidential candidate, his wit and intelligence, his growth as a statesman to become the virtual conscience of the nation during the bloodiest rift in its history. Far fewer are familiar with the decisions and qualities which combined to create the most extraordinary figure in our political history.

In 1858, he challenged Illinois Senator Stephen Douglas in his bid for re-election. Although Lincoln lost, he developed a national prominence when they engaged in a series of high–profile debates, primarily over slavery. Lincoln was eloquent in his attacks from a moral-ethical standpoint, while Douglas was firm in his belief in states’ rights to decide important issues. Then came the presidential election of 1860, with the country poised for war, and the outcome would be the determining factor. It was during the hotly contested campaign that the Democratic nominee Douglas would perform an epic act of “Nation over Party.”

Two years later, Douglas sensed that Lincoln would win the presidency as Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana swung to the Republicans. Douglas famously declared “Mr. Lincoln is the next president. We must try to save the Union. I will go South!” Despite a valiant effort consisting of speeches to dissuade the South, it was too late. During the 16 weeks between Lincoln’s election in 1860 and the March 4, 1861, inauguration, seven states had seceded from the Union and formed the Confederate States of America.

On June 3, 1861, the first skirmish of the war on land occurred in (West) Virginia. It was called the Battle of Philippi and it was a Union victory. A minor affair that lasted 20 minutes with a few fatalities, the Union nevertheless celebrated it with fanfare. Ironically, Senator Douglas died on the same day at age 48. Three weeks later, the Civil War exploded at the Battle of Bull Run and would continue for four long bloody years.

One has to wonder if this could have been avoided if our remarkable founders had been more prescient about the slavery issue and ended it with the adoption of the Bill of Rights. Or were those early Virginia presidents — Washington, Jefferson, Madison and Monroe — too jaded or selfish to make the personal sacrifice?

Here’s why Dwight D. Eisenhower admired Germany’s autobahn

A baseball signed by President Dwight D. Eisenhower circa 1960 sold for $9,588 at a December 2017 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Tempus fugit!

When I think about President Dwight D. Eisenhower, my mind associates him with America in the 1950s. Images of sunny Southern California suburbs, rock music, languid days of surfing, backyard BBQs and my first car (1953), a 1932 Ford Victoria 4 banger. Long gone are any memories of ducking under a desk, the potential darkness of a nuclear war or concerns that communists were lurking in hidden corners.

It was a time of social confidence and military men taking advantage of the G.I. Bill by returning to college or starting families in the tract homes that were proliferating. Good factory jobs were plentiful, with auto-assembly plants gradually replacing shuttered aircraft shells. My posse knew the year and model of every Ford, Chevrolet, Buick or Oldsmobile that went whizzing by. Soon, I was a senior working in a General Motors plant assembling Buicks, Pontiacs and Oldsmobiles from 3 to 11 in South Gate. Shoddy quality, but the emphasis was on quantity and the pay was staggering: $2.55 an hour with daily overtime + Saturday. My cup runneth over.

In reality, Dwight David Eisenhower was a 19^th-century man. Born in 1890 in Dennison, Texas, he moved a year later to Abilene, Kan., and a small, two-story frame house. He recalled the 1896 election when William McKinley defeated William Jennings Bryan, the golden-throated “Boy Orator of the Prairie.” This was the first of Bryan’s three defeats; he joined Henry Clay as the only losing candidates who received electoral votes in three separate presidential elections.

A good athlete, “Little Ike” yearned to attend the University of Michigan – the home of Coach Fielding Yost and his “point a minute” Wolverine football teams. He was encouraged to take the service academy exam and he failed to qualify for the vaunted Naval Academy. However, he squeaked into West Point and then married Mamie Geneva Doud in 1916. Although eager to join the war in Europe, he ended up in San Antonio training in the 57th Army Infantry, followed by a stint in Gettysburg, Pa., with a crack tank crew. A military legend was gradually taking shape.

When the U.S. Army returned from Europe at the end of WWI, they sponsored the 1919 Transcontinental Motor Convoy. Ike joined 300 other soldiers to drive a group of 81 motorized vehicles from Gettysburg to San Francisco. The convoy wound along the Lincoln Highway for 3,251 miles. Because of the rudimentary, haphazard web of paved roads, it took an almost unbelievable 62 days. Lieutenant Eisenhower would long remember the impassable roads and tortoise-like pace, never realizing he would later have an opportunity to rectify the issue.

For perspective, at the end of the 19th century, there had only been one motorized vehicle for every 18,000 people (today, we have about 300 million cars and trucks, or almost one per person). Also, the “roads” in 1900 were not asphalt or concrete; instead, they were too often packed dirt or mud, depending on the time of year. Even worse, outside cities and towns, there were few gas stations; rest stops would be a convenience in the future. In 1910, The Boston Eagle newspaper observed that automobiling was not an easy way to get anywhere … “it is an adventure … the last call of the wild.”

With Henry Ford’s help, that was about to change … dramatically. When Ford introduced the 1908 Model T, Americans finally had a dependable, affordable car. Over the next 20 years, 15 million “Tin Lizzies” rolled off the Ford assembly lines. Along with all the other car manufacturers, automobiles evolved from a luxury to a necessity. With this transition to a “nation of drivers” came the inevitable questions of who would pay for indirect costs involved. The powerful automobile industry ultimately prevailed, with governments at all levels agreeing to pay for streets, signage, highways, bridges and all the other things we now take for granted. Taxing gas was an easy target, but there were major infrastructure projects that are still difficult to fund.

Fortunately, during WWII, Eisenhower was the Supreme Commander of U.S. troops in Europe. He witnessed firsthand the genius of the German autobahn, a highly sophisticated and strategic network of highways. The Germans had used it to launch its Blitzkrieg attacks; waves of lightning fast, motorized armored infantry that quickly subdued most of Europe in a matter of days or weeks. When he became president in 1953, Ike remembered the fiasco of the transcontinental convoy and the devastation unleashed courtesy of the autobahn.

Voila! In 1954, he announced a plan to build a transcontinental interstate highway system for the United States. Naturally, this was not a new idea; Congress had passed the Federal-Aid Highway Act in 1944, which authorized the construction of a 40,000-mile National System of Interstate Highways. The only thing lacking was the funding to pay for it. What President Eisenhower did was cleverly bundle the “critical need for speed” in case of atomic attack on our key cities (a national defense imperative) with a terrific rationale for a highway system that would benefit common citizens. Fresh produce from Florida to New England overnight or year-round fresh fruit and vegetables from California to anywhere.

On June 29, 1956, President Eisenhower signed the bill creating a National System of Interstate and Defense Highways with a major economic stimulus via construction jobs followed by booms in numerous industries: trucking, petroleum, automotive, motels, restaurants. The list was endless. The nation’s interstate program stands as the largest public work project in world history. This time, there was funding and vastly improved state and local highways. The complaints would come later as planners used eminent domain to seize lands for roads. Thousands of farms were bifurcated by four-lane highways and scores of cities leveled or divided, with poor and minority communities destroyed.

Just another chapter in our history, but without the EPA or federal court injunctions.

Another milestone in American history just a few months away

This 1840 Silk Campaign Flag for William Henry Harrison realized $87,500 at a June 2018 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Every four years, Americans get an opportunity to choose who will be president of the United States. To vote, people must be citizens, 18 years old and registered to vote. The actual direct voting is by delegates to an Electoral College, generally representing the Republican or Democratic political parties. Since 1789, 44 different men have occupied the Oval Office and Donald Trump is the 45th. Grover Cleveland accounts for the difference since he was elected twice, once in 1884 (#22) and again in 1892 (#24); he is the only president to serve two non-consecutive terms.

Of these 44 presidents, there is only one African-American and no women. One … John Quincy Adams … was selected by the House of Representatives in 1824 when none of the candidates received a majority of votes. In this century, George W. Bush and Donald Trump lost the popular vote, but had more votes in the Electoral College. Al Gore and Hillary Clinton placed second. Four of the presidents died in office and four were assassinated.

The first to die was William Henry Harrison in 1841 after serving only 31 days. John Tyler became the first vice president to assume the presidency without an election. To preclude any Constitutional uncertainty, Tyler immediately took the oath of office, moved into the White House and assumed full presidential powers. His political opponents argued (unsuccessfully) that he should be “acting president” until a new election was held. One president (Richard Nixon) resigned to avoid a trial in the Senate after the House of Representatives voted to impeach on three articles; he was virtually assured of conviction.

Each time, the nation withstood the shock of an unanticipated change and a safe transition was managed, almost routinely.

It is quite instructive to broadly categorize the men who have served in this office by analyzing their relationship with the people and the development of the nation. There are interesting correlations with the evolving role and power of the chief executive as the Union became more geographically diverse and ever-expanding. At times, it is arbitrary as the changes were often contentious, but society has flourished despite political discord. A few examples are all that space allows, but the story keeps getting more complex.

First consider the first five, from George Washington to James Monroe … both two-term presidents from Virginia (as were Thomas Jefferson and James Madison). Washington was elected unanimously twice, something Monroe nearly matched until one vote was cast to preserve GW’s record. Monroe served in the “Era of Good Feelings,” a time of harmony never to be replicated. These five presidents are easily labelled as “formative” in every sense of the word. There were few precedents to follow and the Constitution was uselessly vague on specifics.

Washington (1789-97) chose to meet primarily with the upper elite of society (eschewing the common man) and even assiduously avoiding shaking hands. He rode in a yellow chariot decorated with gilded cupids and his Coat of Arms. His executive mansion was staffed with 14 white servants and seven slaves. A different man might have easily assumed the role as king, irrespective of the war for independence. After all, that action was against King George III, the greedy British Parliament and taxation without representation. Further, he had been elected by a small group of mature (older) white men – and exclusively landowners, who numbered 6 percent of the total population.

Washington was acutely aware of the precedents he was setting and their historical importance. In 1789, he appeared before the Senate and presented an Indian treaty for approval. When the Senate decided to study it before approval, Washington huffed out after vowing to never appear before Congress again. It was a vow he kept. Similarly, when he refused to comply with a Congressional demand for his papers on the controversial Jay Treaty, he reminded Congress that the Constitution did not require their approval! Thus were the roots of executive privilege established.

When Washington declined a third term in 1796, George III famously declared, “If he does that, he will be the greatest man in the world.” He did and it was a precedent that spanned 144 years until Franklin Delano Roosevelt declared for the presidency a third time in 1940 (and won). From 1932 – with the Great Depression, the New Deal and the Second World War on the horizon – FDR had subsumed the federal government. To the common man, he epitomized the American landscape totally.

Other vivid examples include Jacksonian Democracy for the common man … the War with Mexico and the Western expansion of Manifest Destiny … Lincoln, his generals and the Civil War … Reconstruction without Lincoln’s wisdom … the Great War machine in the 20th century and the Cold War.

In a few months, we may have a chance to witness an inflection point in American history as another generation goes to the ballot box and votes. This time, voters will include women, blacks, Latinos, American Indians and Asians.

I plan to enjoy it.