Gigantic.1

Presidential

I was driving through Hyde Park a couple of weeks ago and made an unplanned stop at Franklin D. Roosevelt’s house. It was a tribute to my dad.

Probably around 1977, my dad was living alone in an apartment in Hyde Park. It was a nicer apartment than the one he’d had over the “Nite Cap” bar in downtown Poughkeepsie, but I’m still not sure how happy he was about the situation.

I’m also not sure how I found out about this, but this story is absolutely true.

My dad took to keeping a folding lawn chair in the trunk of his Dodge Dart. Every evening, after he finished his supper, he would drive over to Franklin D. Roosevelt’s house.

When you go to FDR’s house today, there’s a big modern conference center, it’s a bit more buttoned up. Back then, besides the library, the place looked pretty much like it did when FDR lived there. And if you went by after hours, you might not see a soul.

So my dad would walk around the back of FDR’s house, he would take his folding chair, set it up on FDR’s back porch and sit there reading his New York Times. No one disturbed him, no one knew.

Despite living alone in a small Hyde Park apartment and driving an old Dodge Dart, my dad lived like a President for one hour each day.

I’ve loved FDR’s house since I was a kid. When I parked my own car a few weeks ago and walked around the back to the porch, it was just as I remembered it. I could picture my dad sitting right there on his folding chair, reading his paper.

There’s something so profoundly creative about him doing this. So simple, and yet no one else was here doing it. Just my dad. It gives me a rare insight into what made him tick, and will always be one of my favorite memories of him.

The view of the river valley from this spot is unparalleled. This is why the house is perched here. This is why Roosevelt continued to retreat here. He loved this view. He loved this porch.

On the same side of his house is Roosevelt’s study. I can picture it perfectly without going inside. I know where his desk is. I know where the fireplace is. It’s from this room that he broadcast his famous Fireside Chats. Where he spoke earnestly to the American people. Where he reassured us that, despite times being difficult, we were all in this together, and we would get through.

Noblesse oblige was real to Roosevelt. He was privileged, but dyed into the cloth of that privilege was the duty to look out for those who were less fortunate than he was.

That his porch was here for my dad to sit and read his paper speaks to a philosophy that continued even after Roosevelt was gone. And the house and grounds are still here for all of us.

Standing high above the Hudson on an early spring day, I feel like I always have, that this place belongs to me too. I stopped by to pay tribute to my dad, but wound up paying tribute to FDR as well. His example lives on. A polestar in our own uncertain times.

—

CLICK for Gigantic Index

CLICK for Ghost Tour