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Memo to Elizabeth and Bernie: You’ve been scooped by roughly 130 years

A collection of First Lady Frances Folsom Cleveland’s family and personally owned artifacts went to auction in September 2020.

By Jim O’Neal

March 4, 1893, marked the second time Stephen Grover Cleveland was inaugurated as president of the United States. He was greeted at the Executive Mansion by President Benjamin Harrison, the Republican he had defeated three months earlier. It was a mildly awkward meeting, the only time in history the transfer of presidential power involved outgoing and incoming presidents who had run against each other twice (each one winning once and losing once).

Benjamin “Little Ben” Harrison (he was 5-feet-6) was notoriously cold and aloof and President-elect Cleveland was stubbornly independent, with an aura of self-righteousness. Historian Henry Adams observed that “one of them had no friends and the other only enemies.” Robert G. Ingersoll, nicknamed “The Great Agnostic,” went a step further: “Each side would have been glad to defeat the other, if it could do so without electing its own candidate.” Strangely, I felt the same way in both 2016 and 2020.

Inauguration Day was bitterly cold and many recalled that Harrison’s grandfather, William Henry Harrison (the ninth president) had died 31 days after his inauguration. Following a very long acceptance speech, he caught pneumonia and it was fatal. He was 68 and at the time the oldest person to assume the presidency, a distinction he held until 1981 when Ronald Reagan was sworn in at age 69.

In 1893, President-elect Cleveland’s vice president, Adlai E. Stevenson, took the oath of office first. Sixty years later, his grandson (and namesake) would make two futile runs for the presidency (1952 and 1956). He had the bad luck of having one of America’s greatest heroes, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, as an opponent. War heroes are difficult to defeat and, in this case, it’s generally acknowledged that Ike could have beaten anyone and run on either party’s ticket. Outgoing President Harry Truman had even tried to broker such a deal in 1948 when he offered to step down to vice president.

Sadly, the 1892 election was vexed by Harrison’s wife contracting tuberculosis and dying two weeks before the election of Cleveland. But, after the inauguration and traditional transition, the ex-president seemed more than ready to return to his home in Indianapolis. Surprisingly, four years later, some of Harrison’s friends tried to convince him to seek the presidency again. He declined, but did agree to travel extensively making speeches in support of William McKinley’s successful candidacy. Little Ben died in February 1901 from pneumonia and a short six months later, President McKinley would become the third president to be assassinated.

But today belonged to President Cleveland and his wife Frances. They had been married during the first term in office on June 2, 1886, in the Blue Room at the White House. Cleveland was 49 years old at the time, Frances a mere 21. Frances Folsom Cleveland was the youngest First Lady in history and became very popular, primarily due to her youthful personality. They would have five children with the first one named Ruth. No, she was definitely not associated with Baby Ruth. That candy bar was renamed 30 years after her birth and 17 years after her death. After a warm welcome at the White House, President Cleveland’s troubles started almost right away.

In May, barely two months back in the White House, Cleveland discovered a growth on his palate, the soft tissue in the roof of the mouth that separates the oral and nasal cavities. It turned out to be a malignant tumor that required surgical removal. Fearful of panic in the already shaky financial markets, a clever plan was devised to perform a secret operation on a yacht in the East River. The surgery was successful and the president recuperated while sailing innocently on Long Island. The press was surprisingly gullible and accepted a story about two teeth that needed removal.

However, on dry land, economic forces were forming a dark storm that would usher in the worst financial crisis in the nation’s history. The pending depression would become known as the Panic of ’93. The 19th century had weathered many boom-bust economic cycles, but this powerful downturn would persist until the 20th century. Even as the president was organizing his cabinet, banks, factories and farms were tumbling into bankruptcy. Virtually everywhere, workers were struggling with layoffs and payouts as companies were swept away.

In his inaugural speech, Cleveland had warned about the dangers of business monopolies and inflation, however, his response to the economic chaos was austere in the extreme. He did not believe government should intervene for fear of eroding self-reliance and over-reliance on government. This was a common belief and it would take another generation for a new consensus to shape American politics. To fully grasp the significant schism that was silently evolving, one only has to read Thomas Sherman’s 1889 essay titled “The Owners of the United States.”

Using census data and promises of anonymity, he developed the thesis that 1/30th of the people in England owned 2/3 of the wealth. In America, he listed 70 individuals worth $2.7 billion and asserted no other country had such a concentration of millionaires. By contrast, 80% of Americans earned less than $500 annually, and 50,000 families owned half of the nation’s wealth. Further, wealthy men and corporations escaped taxation, with the burden falling “exclusively upon the working class.”

Memo to Elizabeth and Bernie: You’ve been scooped by roughly 130 years. Somehow, we managed to have a decent 20th century, save the world several times and develop a technological cornucopia for 330 million people vs. any other time in the history of the world. Go Bezos, Jobs/Allen, the Google guys, Walmart, Henry Ford, FDR and my man T.R.!

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].

We’ve come a long way since a sick George Washington had 40% of his blood drained

A Republic gold proof commemorating the 150th anniversary Dr. Ignaz Semmelweis’ birth,1968-BP PR63 Ultra Cameo NGC, Budapest mint, sold for $4,920 at a May 2021 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

The results from my 2001 annual physical indicated one area of concern: an elevated PSA. These three letters represent an enzyme (prostate-specific antigen) and, with a digital rectum exam, can indicate three possibilities. One is prostate cancer. Early detection – as with most diseases – can dramatically improve the odds for a cure. So my next logical step was a visit to a local urologist.

An eight-needle biopsy (they used to take six) confirmed the presence of cancer. Pathologists use a grading score derived by peering through a microscope at images to assess cell-differentiation on the left and right of the prostate. Each are ranked 1 to 5 and then added together. My Gleason was 3/4, which is higher than the 3/3 of an average prostate cancer. But, it did not reveal how fast the cancer was growing or if it had managed to escape from the prostate. Prostate cancer seems compelled to get in the main blood stream and then find a safe place to hide and grow. As you can appreciate, this is not a good thing, so the objective is to get it out permanently asap.

Prostate cancer is a diabolical opponent and in 2000, 180,000 American men were positively diagnosed and 32,000 died. It can be caused by hereditary and African-Americans have a higher incidence. However, the Western diet … lots of fat, red meat, pizza and even Cheetos … is, in my view, the real scoundrel when compared to Asia. Curing it is highly dependent on several variables, but the two most important are the skill of the surgeon and having the cancer still contained in the organ.

I was able to get an appointment with Dr. Patrick Walsh at Johns-Hopkins and Nancy and I flew to Baltimore on June 3. Dr. Walsh is a quiet, serious man, but with a great sense of humor and compassion. He is unlike most surgeons who tend to have a swagger, in my opinion, and invariably a sense of urgency (possibly because they’re on a mission to save the world) and prefer talking. Dr. Walsh quietly listened and then whisked my slides away to evaluate two things. First, he confirmed I had cancer and second, he thought I’d be a good candidate for a radical (his specialty and the only reason we were there).

One small detail was his availability. The first opening wasn’t until Sept. 5 (after a governor, two senators and the King of Spain, among others). It was a long summer.

After a successful operation, I was recuperating in Baltimore and watching CNN when the first plane hit the World Trade Center. My physical situation seemed trivial compared to the 9/11 chaos in NYC and the future implications. We were at war.

I had a lot of time to read and the words “the skill of the surgeon,” which guided me to the history of this noble profession. In 1536, during one of the perpetual wars between France and Spain, French soldiers invaded the Italian city of Turin after a bloody battle. The conventional wisdom was that bullet wounds should be cauterized with boiling oil. A French surgeon ran out oil and substituted a milder concoction of egg yolks, oil of roses and turpentine. The next day, the men treated with boiling oil were in great agony, while the others with bland dressings were resting comfortably. It seems modern surgery began with a great unlearning of quackery, some of it dating back 2,000 years. Western medicine was based on the teaching of Hippocrates and it was sadly out of date as the boiling oil example typifies.

Alas, other examples abound: Critically ill and dehydrated patients were given noxious potions to provoke vomiting and diarrhea. Other patients died regularly after being bled by leeches and lancets. George Washington went to bed with a severe sore throat and died eight hours later after four doctors drained 40% of his blood. One historian wrote, “If Hippocrates is the Father of Medicine, it is a dubious paternity.”

Operations were once compared to commando raids. Surgeons get in and out with maximum haste, while cutting off as few of their assistants’ fingers as possible. Then there was the enormous, rather obvious, but unrecognized significance of sterility. Most surgeons never stopped to change their gowns, wearing the blood-soaked garments as a badge of endurance while operating on a conveyor of multiple patients. Hospitals developed a well-earned reputation as houses of death.

Another startling example occurred in the middle of the 17th century when new mothers (in hospitals) started dying in droves all over Europe. The mysterious disease was dubbed puerperal (Latin for child) fever. Doctors attributed it to bad air or lax morals. In fact, it was due to germ-laden hands transferring microbes from one uterus to another. A doctor in Vienna, Ignaz Semmelweis, realized that if hospital staff washed their hands in mildly chlorinated water, deaths of all kinds declined sharply. It took 250 years for the medical profession to recognize the influence of hygiene on patient mortality. It seems morbidly ironic that we’re still preaching about hand washing in the middle of a pandemic or arguing if face masks are some secret Constitutional right.

I was blessed. Before the 1980s, 100% of men who had prostate surgery were impotent and probably severely incontinent. Dr. Walsh told me that many men felt the cure was worse than the disease. Then, he (personally) discovered a remarkable fact. The nerves were outside the prostate and potency could be preserved if a highly skilled surgeon performed the delicate surgery. He perfected the “nerve-sparing” technique that has permitted millions of men to maintain a normal family life. Pass the pizza. We’ve removed another barrier to dietary freedom!

I hope it’s not too long before another writer looks back at the present time and explains why 100% of Americans didn’t get a simple vaccination that would have prevented some of us from joining the nearly 600,000 people who have died or the 32 million that got COVID-19. Herd immunity seems like such an easy objective, but if the African variant mutates and we need a new vaccine … well you get the drift.

I’m honestly embarrassed by the utter stupidity.

Linking Chicago’s 1893 Exposition, Columbus, the U.S. Sanitary Commission and murder

A National French Draft Horse Association gold medal awarded to Ed Hodgson at the 1893 Columbian Exposition sold for $14,400 at an August 2019 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

In 2003, I got a reliable tip about a new non-fiction book, The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson. The author skillfully weaves two complex stories into an entertaining narrative. The story revolves around the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago (“The White City”) and the riveting true story of H.H. Holmes (“The Devil”). Holmes is credited with being the first American serial killer after he lured as many as 200 people into his “Murder Castle.” At the same time, Jack the Ripper was plying his trade in London. Several attempts have been unsuccessful in linking these two monsters.

In 2010, Leonardo DiCaprio bought the film rights to the best-selling book and, presumably, his production company, Appian Way Productions, will eventually be turning out a movie. A short list of films by the studio includes The Aviator, Public Enemies, The Wolf of Wall Street and the Oscar-winning The Revenant. The production company has collaborated with Martin Scorsese and Clint Eastwood on several entertaining films, but it’s not clear if any other organizations will be involved. Larson went on to write several other excellent books that I can safely recommend for your enjoyment.

The 1893 Columbian Exposition was designed to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Christopher Columbus’ voyages to the New World. The Italian explorer and navigator made four voyages in 12 years (1492-1504), primarily searching for a shorter trade route from Europe to Asia. He was unsuccessful and, curiously, despite never setting foot on North America, is honored with a national holiday. Hence, America derives its name from a different Italian explorer, mapmaker Amerigo Vespucci, who also claimed to have made several voyages to our ZIP code.

However, Columbus is credited with opening the Western World, which resulted in significant trade and the European colonization of our neighbors. His trips include contact with Hispaniola (Haiti and the Dominican Republic), Cuba, Central and South America and several of the smaller Caribbean Islands. Latter-day historians have been critical of his treatment of the indigenous people. In addition to slavery, the “Columbian Exchange” was responsible for exposing local inhabitants to new diseases that resulted in widespread death due a lack of immunity (sound familiar?). Trade provided Europe with an amazing array of new foodstuffs, like the 200-plus varieties of potatoes from Chile, along with tobacco and dozens of others too numerous to list.

There was vigorous competition to host the 1893 Fair – with St. Louis, Chicago and New York City the leading contenders. NYC had powerful backers, with Cornelius Vanderbilt, William Astor and J.P. Morgan agreeing to provide $15 million in financing. But Chicago had their own heavy-hitters, who matched the $15 million and finally prevailed. They were especially motivated since this kind of visibility would provide an excellent opportunity to demonstrate they had fully recovered from the ashes of the Great Fire of 1871, which was wrongfully blamed on Mrs. O’Leary and her innocent cow. The event was a commercial success, with over 27 million visitors from 46 countries. The “White City” nickname was derived from the color of the facade of the 14 major buildings designed by some of the world’s most prominent architects. Plus, it didn’t hurt that a civil engineer named George Washington Ferris Jr. showed up with his now-famous wheel that could thrill over 2,000 people, fully loaded, at 50 cents per passenger. At over $1,000 per ride, it was the equivalent of having a U.S. Mint without having to buy any silver.

The real factor in the exhibition’s success was the remarkable skill of one man, Frederick Law Olmsted, primarily known for his work as superintendent for Central Park in New York. He had been a mere 35 years old and was soon in charge of thousands of workers. Then, the Civil War started and Olmsted took a short leave of absence since everyone was convinced it would be over very quickly. A carriage accident prevented him from joining the army to fight but, fortunately, he was asked to become the leader of the U.S. Sanitary Commission. When the war started, Northern forces consisted almost exclusively of volunteers that totally lacked the capability to provide medical assistance or even food to wounded soldiers. With Olmsted in charge, the Sanitary Commission raised funding and supplies from ordinary citizens and then devised means to deliver medical attention, food, tents and blankets to wounded soldiers right on the battlefields. This was an early example of Uber, but without an iPhone.

His reputation grew and 30 years later, the CEO of the Columbian Exposition hired him to organize everything in Chicago. Piece of cake.

I hope President Biden can find someone with just 5 percent of Frederick Olmsted’s skill and experience. Otherwise, it’s going to be a long four years.

Here’s why Benjamin Rush is an unsung hero of the American Revolution

A Dr. Benjamin Rush autograph manuscript titled “References to texts of Scripture related to each other upon particular Subjects” sold for $5,975 at a February 2006 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Early in 1813, two former U.S. presidents were in grief over the death of a mutual friend and colleague. Dr. Benjamin Rush had been responsible for reconciling the ex-presidents and healing the bitter rift that had grown worse after they left office. Now, Dr. Rush was dead and both John Adams and Thomas Jefferson were convinced that the eminent physician deserved to be honored for more than his enthusiasm for American liberty.

Benjamin Rush was born in 1746 in a small township a few miles outside of Philadelphia. Just 30 years later, he was one of the younger of the 56 men who bravely signed the Declaration of Independence (Edward Rutledge, age 26, was the youngest). Benjamin was 5 years old when his father died, but in a stroke of pure providence, his mother took notice of his remarkable intellect and was determined to see that her precocious youngster got special tutoring. She sent him to live with an aunt and uncle, who enrolled him in a boarding school run by the Reverend Samuel Finley, an academic who founded the West Nottingham Academy (1744) and later the College of New Jersey (Princeton University).

Rush (predictably) flourished in this rarefied intellectual atmosphere and at age 13 was admitted to Princeton. After graduating in one year, he was then apprenticed to Philadelphia’s foremost physician, Dr. John Redman. However, eager to continue his studies, he sailed to Scotland in 1766. He entered the University of Edinburg, rated the finest medical school in the British Empire. Again, serendipity reigned since this was the blooming of the Scottish Enlightenment. This period was coincidental with the European movement that encouraged rational thought, while resisting the traditional imposition of sovereign authority, especially from Great Britain. By divine providence, the American colonies were gradually drifting into similar territory and the example of taxation was considered undermining independent action, which curtailed liberty.

During the next three years, Rush not only became a fully qualified doctor of medicine, but was exposed to some of the greatest thinkers, politicians and artists that were alive. When he returned to Philadelphia, his bandwidth had continued to expand as he absorbed radical alternatives to conventional theories. He became obsessed with the concept of public service and a champion of the common man.

Establishing a medical practice was challenging since the poor represented the equivalent of today’s middle class and the wealthy naturally controlled the best and most experienced practitioners. Since Rush was now eager to help close social inequalities, he sought out the sick in the slums of Philadelphia and offered his services. He was forced to accept a position as professor of chemistry at the College of Philadelphia to bolster his income (his family had grown to 13) and, importantly, provide an outlet for his prodigious medical papers.

He is credited with being the first to highlight the deleterious effects of alcohol and tobacco, but in the process alienated both heavy users and most producers. Even more controversial was his anti-slavery position with the South growing more reliant on slave labor as the integral part of their agrarian economic development. With Great Britain seemingly intent on oppressing all Americans, the nation was inevitably being drawn into war. Dr. Rush was eager to leverage his medical skills to assist the military and was appointed Surgeon General of part of the Continental Army. His broad experience resulted in a pamphlet called “Directions for Preserving the Health of Soldiers.” He keenly observed that “a greater proportion of men have perished with sickness in our armies than have fallen by the sword.” Looming in the future, the Civil War and World War I would prove just how prescient he was.

Today, Dr. Benjamin Rush is generally forgotten or relegated to the second tier of Founding Fathers, an oversight that even Adams and Jefferson recognized when he died in 1813. It is a curious situation when one considers the sincere eulogies expressed by his colleagues and students. It’s estimated that he trained 3,000 doctors and his writings, both personal and technical, are astonishing in breadth and depth. Jefferson was effusive with his praise and John Adams declared he “knew of no one, living or dead, who had done more real good in America.” High praise from two such prominent men who were there to witness it.

Another man who benefited from association with Rush was the firebrand Thomas Paine, who generally falls into the same category. His publication of Plain Truth is one of the most powerful forces behind the colonies’ quest for independence from the British Crown. Never heard of it? That’s not surprising since Plain Truth was changed to Common Sense after Dr. Rush had Paine read him every line before it was published. He persuaded Paine to make the change and it remains the best-selling book in American history and set the colonies firmly on the road to independence.

When I view the current political landscape, I’m persuaded that all that’s missing is … Common Sense!

Immigrants have sparked controversy since the days of Benjamin Franklin

An interest certificate signed “B. Franklin” and dated Oct. 19, 1785, realized $13,145 at a 2012 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Typically, any discussion of Ben Franklin will eventually include the question of why he was never president of the United States. He certainly earned the title as “The First American,” as well as an astonishing reputation as a leading politician, diplomat, scientist, printer, inventor, statesman and brilliant polymath. Biographer Walter Isaacson said it best: “Franklin was the most accomplished American of his age and the most influential in shaping the type of society America would become.”

He was certainly there in Philadelphia on May 5, 1775, representing Pennsylvania as a delegate to the Second Continental Congress, even as skirmishes escalated with the British military. The following June, he was an influential member of the Committee of Five that drafted the Declaration of Independence. In fact, he was the only one of the Founding Fathers to sign the four most important documents: the Declaration of Independence; the 1778 Treaty of Alliance with France (ensuring they would not get involved militarily in the war); the Treaty of Paris (1783), ending the war with Great Britain; and the historic United States Constitution in 1787, which is still firmly the foundation of the nation.

He proved to be a savvy businessman who made a fortune as a printer and prolific scientist who is still revered. His success provided him the personal freedom to spend time in England and France trading ideas with the great minds in the world and enjoying the company of the socially elite.

He was also a shrewd administrator and had a unique talent for writing or making insightful observations on all aspects of life. The only significant issue that seemed to perplex him were the waves of German immigrants that flooded many parts of Pennsylvania. In his opinion, the Crown dumped too many felons that resulted in unsafe cities. They could not speak English and they imported books in German. They erected street signs in German and made no attempts to integrate into the great “melting pot.” Worse was the fact that in many places they represented one-third of the population. He suggested that we export one rattlesnake for every immigrant and void every deed or contract that was not in English. Although the Pennsylvania Dutch (Germans) were an imbalance in the 18th century, by the 1850s they were ideal for the western expansion and proved to be ideal as agrarians.

When World War I erupted in 1914, most Americans viewed it with a sense of detachment and considered it just another European conflict. As a nation of immigrants focused on improving their personal lives, there was little time to root for their homeland. This policy helped Woodrow Wilson win a tight reelection in 1916 and it would last for two years. Since the start of war in Europe fit neatly with the end of the 1913-1914 recession in America, it was a perfect economic fit.

American exports to belligerent nations began rising rapidly; 1913, $825 million – 1917, $2.25 billion. In addition to steel, arms and food, American banks made large loans to finance these supplies. Inevitably, the U.S. was drawn into the war as German submarines sank supply boats. Germany then attempted to bribe Mexico to attack America (the XYZ Affair), and finally lit the fire keg by sinking the Lusitania, which carried a healthy complement of American passengers. Wilson was forced to ask Congress to declare war.

After we were provoked into the largest and deadliest war the world had seen, Wilson then decided that all Americans would be expected to support the war effort. The federal government opened its first propaganda bureau … the “Committee on Public Information.” Thus the creation of the first true “fake news.” Most forums of dissent were banned and it was even unlawful to advocate pacifism. Yes, German-Americans experienced substantial repression as war hysteria rippled through the system. But nothing close to what Japanese-Americans suffered after Japan attacked Pearl Harbor.

On Feb. 12, 1942, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt issued Executive Order 9066, which authorized federal officials to round up Japanese-Americans, including U.S. citizens, and remove them from the Pacific Coast. By June, 120,000 Americans of Japanese descent in California, Oregon and Washington were ordered to assembly centers like fairgrounds and racetracks … with barbed wire … and then shipped to permanent internment camps. Then, astonishingly, they were asked to sign up for military service, and some males 18-45 did since they were subject to the draft.

The U.S. Supreme Court heard three separate cases on the constitutionality and the court decided it was a wartime necessity.

In 1988, President Ronald Reagan signed the Civil Liberties Act and President George H.W. Bush signed letters of apology and payment of $20,000 to heirs. A total of 82,219 Japanese-Americans eventually received $1.6 billion in reparations.

Texas independence was a key moment in the United States’ westward expansion

A rare March 1836 printed account of Mexican President Antonio López de Santa Anna’s operations in Texas during the Revolution, with specific mention of events at the Alamo, sold for $16,730 at a December 2007 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Early on March 6, 1836, the noise of assembling an infantry and the clamor of a cavalry preparing for battle sliced through the darkness as clouds covered the moonlight. Their assault targets were the adobe walls of a 118-year-old mission founded by Roman Catholic missionaries. Inside were no more than 200 armed men commanded by Lieutenant Colonel William Barret Travis, including David Crockett and Jim Bowie. (March 6 was James Bowie’s 40th birthday and before he gained fame for the knife.) For 12 days, this small group (called Texicans) had been successful in slowing Mexican President Antonio López de Santa Anna and his 3,000 troops.

Finally, the Mexican troops were ready and raised the bloody red and white flag that signified that no quarter would be allowed. Then Mexican bugles blared the notes of the chilling “Degüello” and four groups were stationed around the Alamo to ensure that no one escaped alive. Their first assault was repulsed as was the second attempt. Then the attacking troops reformed and breached the walls. Within a matter of minutes, no Texicans were left alive. One popular legend survives that claims the wife of a lieutenant – Susan Dickerson and an infant daughter – were spared. President Santa Anna saluted her as she fled to safety.

According to international law, the Mexican military was well within their sovereign rights. The Alamo, and for that matter 100 percent of Texas, was legally Mexican territory. That included thousands of other Americans scattered from the Brazos to the Sabine River, who were challenging the legal authority of the official government.

For the previous 300 years, Spain had occupied Mexico as a colony known as Nueva España (New Spain). Much of this colonial area consisted of remnants of the remarkable Aztec Empire. In 1493, Pope Alexander VI (1492-1503) had issued Papal bulls that effectively granted Spain the exclusive right to explore the seas and claim all New World lands discovered by Columbus in his trips to the areas near North America. In return, Spain agreed to spread Christianity and the Catholic Church.

When the Mexicans initiated a war of independence, it was further complicated by European politics, Napoleon’s ambitions and aspirations from France. However, Mexico was fully committed to freedom and finally achieved their freedom from Spain. It was the first of several colonies whose independence was recognized by Spain. Ecuador was the second colony after Mexico to gain freedom. But the capture of the Alamo was not the beginning of peace. Less than two months later on April 21, 1836, Sam Houston and 800 Texans defeated Santa Anna at the Battle of San Jacinto and the birth of the Republic of Texas was established.

Texas was annexed by the United States on Dec. 29, 1845, and admitted to the Union as the 28th state the same day. This was the action that precipitated the Mexican-American War (1846-1848).

Meanwhile, U.S. politics evolved into a rough, highly partisan affair as the country expanded west. Andrew Jackson served two terms as president and was followed by Vice President Martin Van Buren in 1836. However, the Panic of 1837, a financial crisis, soon engulfed the entire country. It ignited a major depression with profits, prices and wages all in a steep decline. An increase in unemployment created a national malaise and when banks raised interest rates, it extended the duration of the economic duress.

The country naturally blamed Van Buren and in 1840 turned to a military man to provide the leadership they hungered for. They picked General William Henry Harrison on a slogan of “Tippecanoe and Tyler too.” When Harrison died 30 days later, Vice President John Tyler quickly assumed the full powers of the presidency since there were no precise legal rules regarding succession and he thwarted any suggestions that he was only a temporary president pending another election. Tyler was the first vice president to succeed to the presidency without an election.

However, President Tyler soon lost the support of Congress when he attempted to assume legislative powers. He suffered the embarrassment of being the first president to have legislation overturned by Congressional veto. In 1844, Van Buren made a second try to win back the presidency and failed. Then the momentum shifted to younger upstarts like Henry Clay and James K. Polk, who had been elected to the House of Representatives seven times and would become the first and only Speaker of the House to become president.

Polk had long been considered Andy Jackson’s favorite since they had been born 20 miles apart in the Carolinas frontier. Polk had definitely been born in North Carolina, however, when Jackson was born 28 years earlier, there was no formal line between North and South Carolina. Jackson’s mother was never positive about exactly where her son had been born. Jackson just claimed it was North Carolina and no one ever had the nerve to challenge him (over anything) since they would be standing 10 steps away with a gun in their hand.

President Polk boldly proclaimed the policy of the United States was to be continental expansion. He welcomed Texas into the Union, bluffed the British out of one-half of Oregon and went to war with Mexico to grab California (and the gold) and a big chunk of the Southwest. He had announced his intention to serve only one term even before the election. As a formal lame duck, he was willing to spend his political capital freely and he expanded the powers of the presidency more than anyone before the Civil War. Although labeled a “dark horse” president, it’s hard to match it with his record. He chose to ride boldly across the bright new land and opened up the American West to a century of unbridled expansion.

A man of his word, he served just a single term in office. He had only been 49 at his inauguration – the youngest president up till then – and died a short 103 days after leaving office. His mother Jane was the first presidential mother to survive her son in life.

A little history helps put the 2020 election in perspective

This $1000 1882 Gold Certificate, Fr. 1218f (PCGS Very Fine 35) – with a vignette of Alexander Hamilton, the first Secretary of the Treasury – realized $293,750 at a January 2014 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

If our past is any guide to the future, I suspect that presidential politics will be a primary source of contention for several electoral cycles. The United States has produced some unusual presidential elections and the 2020 Biden vs. Trump race is not an isolated event that warrants exceptional anxiety.

A little history helps keep it in perspective.

During the 1787 Constitutional Convention, there was a long debate over the method for selecting a president. Among the proposals was whether the chief executive should be chosen by a direct popular election, by the Congress, by state legislators or intermediate electors. Direct election was rejected primarily because of a concern that common citizens would probably lack sufficient knowledge of the character or qualifications of candidates that would enable intelligent choices. Candidates would be spread throughout the 13 colonies and campaigning was not a viable option due to travel difficulties.

Letting Congress decide was quickly rejected since it would jeopardize the principle of executive independence. Similarly, allowing state legislatures to choose was turned down because the president might feel indebted to some states and allow them to encroach on federal authority.

Unable to agree, on Aug. 31, the Convention appointed a “Committee of Eleven” to resolve it. On Sept. 4, a compromise was agreed with each state appointing Presidential Electors, who would meet in their states and cast votes for two persons. The votes would be taken to Congress to be counted, with the candidate receiving a majority elected the presidential candidate and the second highest vice president. Since there was no distinction between which vote was specifically designed by position, the 12th Amendment was ratified 1804 to distinguish individual votes between the two offices.

Now the conventional election of president and vice president is an indirect election in which (only) citizens, who are registered to vote in Washington, D.C., or one of the 50 states, cast ballots for members of the Electoral College. Those electors cast the direct votes and it requires at least 270 electoral votes to win. In 1960, the 23rd Amendment granted D.C. citizens the same rights as the states to vote for electors, but they can NEVER have more votes than the least populous state. To date, they have never had more than three electors. Also, they do not have any rights to vote for senators or amendments to the Constitution.

For more than 200 years, Americans have been electing presidents using the Electoral College, but despite its durability, it is one of the least admired political institutions. Thomas Jefferson called it “the most dangerous blot on our Constitution.” It’s been an easy target for abolishment or modernization and polls consistently report citizens would much prefer a simpler direct election. However, amendments require a 2/3 majority in both the House and Senate or a complicated state ratification convention with 3/4 approval. This process has never been attempted.

This outdated system has led to a number of anomalies at times. In 1836, the Whigs tried a novel approach by running different candidates in different parts of the country. William Henry Harrison ran in New England, Daniel Webster in Massachusetts and Hugh White of Tennessee in the South. By running local favorites, they hoped to subsequently combine on one candidate or force the election into the House. The scheme failed when Democrat Martin Van Buren captured the majority.

Another quirk of fate occurred in 1872 when Democratic nominee Horace Greeley died between the popular vote and the meeting of the electors. The Democrats were left without an agreed candidate. Forty-two voted for Governor Tom Hicks … 18 for Gratz Brown … two for Charles Jenkins and three Georgia electors cast their votes for the dead Greeley (Congress refused to accept them).

In 1912, President William Howard Taft and ex-President Theodore Roosevelt caused a split in the Republican Party that allowed Democrat Woodrow Wilson to become president. On Oct. 14, just before a major speech, a fanatic named John Shrank stepped up, shouted something about a third term and shot T.R. in the chest. Roosevelt yelled at the crowd to stand back and declared “I will make this speech or die. It is one thing or the other!” He went on to make a 90-minute speech before heading for the hospital. The bullet had lodged in the massive chest muscles instead of penetrating the lungs! Wilson won but Taft finished a weak third place.

Lastly, compared to “the Revolution of 1800,” the 2020 election was mild and relatively free of widespread disorder. The 1800 campaign was so bitter that VP Aaron Burr ended up killing Alexander Hamilton in a duel and John Adams and Thomas Jefferson would not communicate with each other for 12 years.

Neither Abigail nor John Adams would attend the inauguration. Sound familiar?

Pepsi, Coca-Cola, Michael Jackson, Roger Enrico, Central Park and a Texas woman named Rogers

An original 1949 oil-on-canvas illustration by Haddon Hubbard Sundblom (1899-1976) for a Coca-Cola advertisement sold for $11,250 at an April 2020 Heritage auction.

Then We Set His Hair on Fire: Insights and Accidents from a Hall-of-Fame Career in Advertising by Phil Dusenberry, chairman, BBDO

By Jim O’Neal

Phil Dusenberry and I became friends when he was at the top of his game and working for Pepsi-Cola in the 1980s for another close friend, Roger Enrico. Both of these men were creative geniuses and the remarkable advertising they created was both legendary and memorable. However, on a personal level, they were quite different.

Roger was a brilliant strategic leader, inspirational speaker, risk-taker (“Big changes to big things”) and exactly what PepsiCo needed as a CEO. He got a break when Steve Jobs lured John Sculley to Apple and Roger took his place as president of Pepsi-Cola. This would lead almost inevitably to chairman and CEO of PepsiCo, which had gradually became weighed down by too many underperforming restaurant concepts and a bloated corporate structure.

Phil was a quiet, almost elegant perfectionist, right out of central casting, who was obsessed by “The Work.” He literally earned the sobriquet as Phil “Do it Again” Dusenberry by carefully evaluating excellent creative advertising (that others could only wish for) and then tirelessly “working” it into jaw-dropping brilliance. He also dabbled in the film business and co-wrote the screenplay for The Natural (Robert Redford). As part of the “Tuesday Team,” he helped write speeches for President Reagan and created the still memorable “Morning in America,” a 60-second spot in 1984 that many credit with helping him win re-election.

The “fire and ice” combination of Roger and Phil resulted in a symbiotic relationship that resulted in truly world-class work that was unparalleled, at least in soft drinks.

Virtually everyone knows about the Pepsi Challenge and how fiercely loyal Coca-Cola drinkers actually preferred Pepsi in blind taste tests. After lots of research to ensure the claim was legal, Pepsi started making TV commercials using real people taking “The Challenge” and it was soon a national campaign. Having a legitimate claim to a preferred product that can be advertised was a real boost in sales. Roger always believed that the Challenge was the real reason that Coke in 1985 changed their original secret formula. The result was New Coke, which turned out to be a marketing fiasco. All they had to do was add a small amount of regular sugar to the concentrate and the Challenge would have ceased to exist. But, for 99 years, no one was allowed to make changes to the original recipe. Leaders sometimes overlook the obvious.

Meanwhile, Roger decided that the Challenge was getting tired. After various forays into fruit-flavored soft drinks (Slice) and tinkering with all the sweeting systems (cyclamates, fructose, etc.), he decided Diet Pepsi was OK (barely) but the Pepsi brand needed an entire rethink. He, Phil and several others were struggling with imagery – easy to say and much harder to get on film – when a miracle happened. Roger got a call from Jay Coleman pitching a Pepsi-Michael Jackson deal. It would include two Pepsi commercials, a national tour and a slew of press conferences.

The only shocker was that boxing promoter Don King was involved and the price was an unprecedented $5 million! It took a week to hammer out a contractual deal when someone asked if PepsiCo Chairman Don Kendall had been told (he was in Russia). When he returned, they set up a special presentation for Mr. Kendall and held their breath. After watching the MJ video, Kendall purportedly told Roger: “That is the most remarkable performer I’ve ever seen!”

With some trepidation, Roger invited Don King and his entourage to PepsiCo corporate headquarters to meet the PepsiCo family. It was quite a spectacle, but soon migrated over to the Tavern on the Green for a big press conference in Central Park. Some people take parks for granted … just natural landscapes with grass, trees and perhaps some water. But, consider the fortunes of New York’s Central Park.

This 19th century park was the creation of journalist William Cullen Bryant and prominent horticulturist /landscape designer Andrew Jackson Downing. The city bought the land and Frederick Law Olmsted provided the plan. Construction started in 1858 and nearly completed by 1873. But the corrupt Tammany Hall politicians who ran the city lost interest, and the funds to maintain the 800 acres disappeared. Trees were unpruned, ponds untended and lawns unseeded. By the early 1900s, the park resembled an abandoned ruin.

However, when Fiorello La Guardia became mayor in 1934, he appointed Robert Moses as parks commissioner and over the next 30 years rebuilt the park. For more on Moses, please read The Power Broker by Robert Caro (Pulitzer Prize-winner and voted one of the top 100 nonfiction books of the 20th century). But, by 1975, NYC was broke again and there went the park budget again. Finally, a woman by the name of Elizabeth Barlow Rogers – from San Antonio – became administrator of Central Park. During her tenure of 16 years, a conservancy fund of $100 million was raised (it’s up to $1 billion now). So Central Park finally looks stable.

Phil Dusenberry died of lung cancer in 2007, Roger had a stroke in 2016, and MJ died in 2009. For several years, they made a powerful trio that helped create a New Generation. Even the venerable Tavern on the Green has been shuttered.

Things change.

Here’s why I admire Helen Keller, Sir Christopher Wren, Mark Twain and Doctor Who

Peter Cushing starred in *Dr. Who and the Daleks*, a 1965 movie based on the TV series. A British “quad” poster for the film sold for $3,585 at a July 2017 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Doctor Who was a popular sci-fi TV series in Britain that originally ran from 1963-89 on BBC. Myth has it that the first episode was delayed for 80 seconds due to an announcement of President Kennedy’s assassination in Dallas. We had the opportunity to watch a 1996 made-for-TV movie in London that co-starred Eric Roberts (Julia’s older brother). Alas, it failed to generate enough interest to revive the original Doctor Who series (at least until a new version was launched in 2005).

A 1982 episode from the first run of the show is still popular since the story claimed that aliens were responsible for the Great Fire of London of 1666 and mentioned Pudding Lane. Ever curious, I drove to Pudding Lane, a rather small London street, where Thomas Farriner’s bakery started the Great Fire on Sunday, Sept. 2, shortly after midnight, and then proceeded to rain terror down on one of the world’s great cities.

Pudding Lane also holds the distinction of being one of the first one-way streets in the world. Built in 1617 to alleviate congestion, it reminds one just how long Central London has been struggling with this issue that plagues every large city. Across from the bakery site is a famous landmark monument built in memory of the Great Fire. Not surprisingly, it was designed by the remarkable Sir Christopher Wren (1632-1723).

Wren is an acclaimed architect (perhaps the finest in history) who helped rebuild London with the help of King Charles II. This was no trivial task since 80 percent of the city was destroyed, including many churches, most public buildings and private homes … up to 80,000 people were rendered homeless. Even more shocking is that this disaster followed closely the Great Plague of 1665, when as many as 100,000 people died. A few experts have suggested that the 1666 fire and massive refurbishment helped the disease-ridden city by eliminating the vermin still infesting parts of London.

One of Wren’s more famous restorations is St. Paul’s Cathedral, perhaps the most famous and recognizable sight in London yet today. Many high-profile events have been held there, including the funerals of Prime Minister Winston Churchill and Margaret Thatcher, jubilee celebrations for Queen Victoria and Queen Elizabeth II, and the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana … among many others.

Even Wren’s tomb is in St. Paul’s Cathedral. It is truly a magnificent sight to view Wren’s epitaph:

“Here in its foundations lies the architect of this church and city, Christopher Wren, who lived beyond ninety years, not for his own profit but for the public good. Reader, if you seek his monument – look around you. Died 25 Feb. 1723, age 91.”

In addition to Wren’s reputation as an architect, he was renowned for his astounding work as an astronomer, a co-founder of the elite Royal Society, where he discussed anything scientific with Sir Isaac Newton, Blaise Pascal, Robert Hooke and, importantly, Edmond Halley of comet fame. Halley’s Comet is the only known short-period comet that is regularly (75-76 years) visible to the naked eye. It last appeared in our solar system in 1986 and will return in mid-2061.

Samuel Langhorne Clemens (aka Mark Twain) was born shortly after the appearance of Halley’s Comet in 1835 and predicted he “would go out with it.” He died the day after the comet made its closest approach to earth in 1910 … presumably to pick up another passenger. We all know about Twain, Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. But far fewer know about his unique relationship with Helen Keller (1880-1968). She was a mere 14 when she met the world-famous Twain in 1894.

They became close friends and he arranged for her to go to Radcliffe College of Harvard University. She graduated in 1904 as the first deaf and blind person in the world to earn a Bachelor of Arts degree. She learned to read English, French, Latin and German in braille. Her friend Twain called her “one of the two most remarkable people in the 19th century.” Curiously, the other candidate was Napoleon.

I share his admiration for Helen Keller.

For 40 years, Horace Greeley was the busiest, boldest editor in America

This Horace Greeley 1872 campaign banner with albumen photo and gold-leaf trim sold for $40,000 at a December 2016 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

“Go West, young man, go west and grow up with the country.”

This widely known quote is directly associated with the concept of Manifest Destiny, as Americans inexorably expanded from being huddled along the Atlantic Ocean, across a vast continent, to the shores of the magnificent Pacific Ocean. What is less agreed is the source of this exuberant exhortation. A vast majority attribute it to a man who could easily be crowned the Nation’s Newsman: Horace Greeley. However, there is no definitive evidence in any of his prolific writing or plethora of speeches.

By 1831, a young (age 20) Horace Greeley arrived in New York, devoid of most things, especially money, except for a burning desire to exploit his skills as a journeyman printer. The following year, his reputation was rapidly expanding, having set up a press to publish his modest first newspaper. At 23, he had a literary weekly and a relationship with the great James Gordon Bennett, founder of the New York Herald. The future beckoned the aspiring writer-orator to bring his encyclopedic skills to the masses in new and exciting ways.

Inevitably, using borrowed money, he started the New-York Tribune, publishing the first issue on April 10, 1841. Perhaps by coincidence or divine intervention, this was the same day New York City hosted a parade in honor of recently deceased President William Henry Harrison (“Tippecanoe and Tyler Too”), who had died on April 4. Harrison, the ninth president, had only served from March 4, the shortest tenure of any U.S. president.

The 68-year-old William Henry Harrison was the oldest president to be inaugurated until Ronald Reagan was elected in 1980 at age 69 (both were young compared to the current president and president-elect). In this situation, Harrison had given a lengthy two-hour inaugural address (8,445 words – even after Daniel Webster had edited out almost half), opted not to wear a coat to demonstrate his strength, caught pneumonia and died four weeks later. His wife Anna was at home also sick and, in a first, Congress awarded her a pension – a one-time payment of $25,000 equal to the president’s salary. Their grandson – Benjamin Harrison – would become the 23rd president in 1889.

The new Greeley newspaper was a mass-circulation publication with a distinctive tone reflecting Greeley’s personal emphasis on civic rectitude and moral persuasion. Despite the challenging competition of 47 other newspapers – 11 of them dailies – the Tribune was a spectacular success. Greeley quickly became the most influential newspaperman of his time. From his pen flowed a torrent of articles, essays and books. From his mouth an almost equal amount. In the process, he revolutionized the conception of newspapers in form and content, literally creating modern journalism.

Then with the advent of steam-powered printing presses and a precipitous drop in prices from 6 cents to a penny, more people were clamoring for more news. The common man, ever eager for more information in any category, began to read about the financial markets and almost everything about everyone.

Greeley was intensely interested in Western emigration and encouraged others to take advantage of the opportunities he envisioned. “I hold that tens of thousands, who are now barely holding on at the East, might thus place themselves on the high road to competence and ultimate independence at the West.” Curiously, he made only one trip west, going to Colorado in 1859 during the Pike’s Peak Gold Rush, joining an estimated 100,000 gold-seekers in one of the greatest rushes in the history of North America. The participants, logically dubbed the “Fifty-Niners,” found enough gold and silver to compel Congress to authorize a Mint in 1862. The new Denver mint was opened in 1906.

Greeley developed a large group of followers who found in his raw eloquence and political fervor a refreshing perspective that fueled their appetite for more. For 40 years, Greeley was the busiest and boldest editor in America. Both men and women were attracted to his fiery perspective and guidance in all the great issues of the time. He spared no one, suffered no favorites and seemed to never let the nation or himself rest.

After becoming the first president of the New York Printers’ Union, he led the fight for distribution of public land to the needy and poor. He was a fierce advocate for government rescues during times of social issues, a new role for officeholders and the sovereign state as well. Others have remarked on the similarities between the 1837 depression and FDR’s New Deal response a century in the future. Still others consider him a trust buster, but 60 years before Teddy Roosevelt and his Big Stick threats.

Perhaps less skilled in the art of personal introspective, Greeley viewed himself as an “indispensable figure in achieving national consensus.” His lofty goal was nothing less than the eradication of political differences and a complete embrace of Whig principles and sensibilities. (We are still waiting for his version of transcendental harmony.) Alas, his yearning for consensus blunted his understanding of political events. He was surprisingly slow to grasp the moral dimension of slavery until the 1850s when violence erupted (i.e. Bleeding Kansas).

He abandoned his dream of consensus in favor of the North’s overwhelming strength to simply impose its will, saying “Let the erring states go in peace.” He then turned to badgering President Lincoln to negotiate a peace to stop the bloodshed – basically preserving slavery. Lincoln’s letter to the editor on Aug. 22, 1862, says it all: “If I could save the Union without freeing any slave, I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone, I would also do that.” The subtle wisdom not to expand the war into any of the border states is a point often overlooked.

In 1872, the famously eccentric editor from New York ran for president against Ulysses S. Grant, lost badly, and then died before the electoral votes were counted. Lincoln had likened Greeley to an “old shoe — good for nothing now, whatever he has been,” and Greeley himself perceived his failure. “I stand naked before my God, the most utterly, hopelessly wretched and undone of all who ever lived.”

Personally, I think not. (Seek thee proof … simply look around us today.)