The First Lady of Radio (19 page)

This means that we must not believe all the rumors which are spread, and that we should make every effort to find out the truth before we allow ourselves to become too greatly concerned. I have heard many fantastic stories about myself and my family and have never been
able to discover their beginnings. I am sure that nearly everyone else has had the same experience. It is far more important to weigh everything you read and hear today in order not to be a party to any injustice or unfairness. The history of what has happened in some countries in Europe should be a terrible example to us. We have proved that we can live in this country in peace with many different racial and religious groups, and we must keep that before us if we hope to prove to the world that the democratic way of life is far superior to any other.

No matter how limited your time or talents, you can give what you have to give to your country by knowing your own community and advocating such laws as will help to make democracy worthwhile for every individual. The diligent living of your citizenship, from day to day, may mean success for democracy in the world of the future, or absolute failure for our ideals.

21.

“Political Conventions and Campaign Trips”

Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt's Own Program,
presented by SweetHeart Soap

Tuesday, June 25, 1940

ER: Good day, ladies and gentlemen. This is the time for conventions. And of course the ones which will draw the greatest attention are those of the two major political parties. The Republican Convention is already meeting in Philadelphia. The Democrats meet in convention next month in Chicago. We are a politically minded country and we enjoy our political struggles and our differences of opinion in a way which I think probably few other countries really understand.

When the conventions are over, the two party leaders usually take a little time off for rest before the real campaign begins. This year, of course, we have had a number of Republican candidates for the nomination for the presidency, traveling around the country allowing the people an opportunity to see and hear them. This is never necessary for men
who are well known nationally, but it must be done when one is trying to break into the national political picture.

When once the nominations are made and the campaigns begin, the candidates plan not only radio broadcasts for themselves and the usual campaign setup for everyone else, but they start off on speaking trips throughout the country. I should like to describe to you, in general terms, one of these campaign trips which might be taken by a Republican or a Democratic candidate. I am talking to you from the point of view of one who has been many miles on campaign trains, always as an onlooker. This has given me an opportunity to be a bit objective, and while I realize the seriousness underlying the purpose of these trips, I have still been able to enjoy some of the humorous superficialities.

The point of departure is usually someplace where a group of people gather to bid the party candidate Godspeed. Almost always the candidate has some friends and members of his family in the party. Of course, the candidate is the only person who is legally up for election. But the public seems to take an interest in his entire family, and sometimes one has the feeling that the public considers the whole family responsible to
them
for their actions from the time of the nomination on.

There is a large group of newspaper reporters on the train—and today there are women reporters as well as men—photographers and even newsreel men. Someone is put in charge of these press representatives, and his job is to get them in touch with the candidate when necessary, and to get the advance copies of speeches, et cetera, and to help them to get their stories sent from the train at stated intervals. There is usually an office staff because work goes on all during the campaign trip.

If a president is running for reelection, he is, of course, surrounded by Secret Service men during his campaign trip. If he is merely a candidate for the first time, he is unprotected except for the local police until he is elected to office. This is a great change, and one of the things to which it is very hard for most men to accustom themselves. The law
requires that the president of the United States be protected by the Secret Service. And whether he likes it or not, he must be amenable to the rules which they lay down for his protection. He has spent many years of his life unguarded except by his own right arm, and most of the time he hasn't felt that he was in any particular danger on account of the malevolence of other people. But the day he becomes president he is a target for all the prejudices and grievances which may arise among 120 million people. Well-balanced people express their grievances through the regular political channels. But the totally unbalanced—and there are some of these in every large nation—also may try to express their political ideas. These unfortunate people have no real idea of why they feel as they do and they are not responsible for their actions. It is against such people that the state must constantly protect the chief executive.

At times it must be most irritating to feel that there is an ever-present possibility of physical danger. But after a while I imagine that a man learns to ignore his ever-present bodyguards. In a sense, we all make this kind of adjustment. For example, we hardly realize that everywhere we go there are police who look after our safety. And we are not conscious of their eternal vigilance until their protection is needed. But a political candidate must be willing and able to make any adjustments. He must be big enough to step in and fill a position which is surrounded with restrictions, accompanied by a certain amount of pomp and ceremony. Then he must also be able to make the adjustment of stepping out of that picture and again living as plain Mr. American Citizen. I am sure that some presidents must have felt the greatest relief in the world on leaving their office and resuming normal private life. To others, it must be a fairly difficult adjustment to change from the nation's number-one citizen to one of the nation's 120 million citizens.

But I have gone a little astray in this discussion. Before a [campaign train] trip is started, regular stops are arranged. Some places will be selected for long station stops where the candidate will leave the train to
make a major speech. The man who is in charge of the train schedule has a most trying assignment. While a campaign trip is in progress, he is constantly bombarded with telegrams from small cities, towns, and villages along the route, asking that the train stop there for just a minute so the people from the country 'round about can catch a glimpse of the candidate.

In the course of a day, a train may make two or three major stops where the candidate makes a real speech. But there may be ten or twelve one-to-three-minute stops where only a few words are spoken. The candidate's family is always asked to be on the back platform for these short stops. The local politicians are always present and each of them say a few words, if that can possibly be arranged. Flowers are brought to the ladies of the party and sometimes other gifts, and crowds gather around the observation platform in the rear of the train. There is always a tense moment before the train starts again for fear some child is on the roof or near the wheels, for the crowds clamber about everywhere and the children sometimes choose dangerous places from which to view the proceedings. I remember in one place seeing some small boys being hauled off the roof of the president's car by the Secret Service, and I have often heard them urge youngsters to keep away from the wheels. In all the trips I have taken, I never remember a real accident, but I have had many anxious moments.

We also have had some amusing instances. On one campaign trip, when I was not on board, my daughter regaled me with detail about one of the newspaperwomen missing the train because she was caught in the crowd and could not get back. Without knowing she was not on board, the signal was given to start the train and the poor woman had to take a taxicab and chase the train! Fortunately, there were so many stops to make that she caught up, but a good many miles away. I've seen photographers clambering on to the back platform as the train was slowly pulling out.

When these stops are over and the train is on its way again, all of us go back to whatever we had been doing—playing cards, reading, sewing, working, or whatever it may be. The candidate talks to the local politicians who get on the train and ride for a short distance, or prepares his next speech. Sometimes, if the family is honest with the candidate, they will tease him a little about the similarity of his speeches. But they must be tolerant with him because I am sure there is just as little pleasure in repeating the same speech over and over again as there is in hearing it.

It seems as though one has hardly settled down after a stop when someone comes along calling: “All out on the back platform for another stop,” and everything has to be dropped. Occasionally these stops will come during mealtime and everyone dashes out holding a napkin in one hand and wondering if the food will be too cold to eat when they get back. But the entire campaign party must be at the beck and call of the crowds, night and day, all during the trip. People may clamber about the campaign train even after everyone aboard has gone to bed. If the candidate is very young and very anxious to please, he will get out of bed, put on a wrapper, and respond to the call of his public.

The only thing about campaign trips which has always seemed to me rather futile is that the greater part of those who come to see a candidate and listen to him are people who agree with him and probably would vote for him in any case. Of course, there are exceptions. There must be a number of people who are really swayed by personal contact with the candidate.

I do not suppose that we will ever get away from campaign trips. And I think, perhaps, we would miss them. For there is something in the American people which makes them want to get a face-to-face impression of the other fellow. Campaign trips undoubtedly have a great deal of value for the candidate, too. He gets a panoramic impression of his fellow American citizens and of the country as a whole. He gets a clear idea of the vastness of our nation, of the great mixture of peoples and
views. In other words, while the candidate is barnstorming to let the voters get a look at him, he is giving himself an excellent opportunity to get a look at the voters. So here's to all those who are going out to court the vote of their fellow citizens, and may whatever is best for the country come to pass on Election Day!

22.

“Planning for War and Postwar Periods”

Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt's Own Program,
presented by SweetHeart Soap

Thursday, June 27, 1940

ER: Good day, ladies and gentlemen. In the many years that I have been interested in and connected with public affairs, I cannot remember a single time when people wanted more ardently to be of service to their country. Men, women, and even children are anxious to serve in any way they can, and yet there seems to be no very evident way in which their energies may be harnessed. The result is that the more energetic citizens are thinking up plans of their own and trying, in every way, to get people to adopt their ideas. This, unfortunately, may have some rather curious and haphazard effects. All of us must understand that in a country as large as ours, effort must be organized, plans must be worked out carefully in a unified program, people's activities and resources must be coordinated either under the government or under a few well-organized
private agencies, working in cooperation with each other and with the government.

In the meantime, it seems to me that the obvious course of action for most of us is to go on with our jobs, whatever they may be. If possible, we should try to do our selected tasks a little better than before. Wherever it lies in our power, we should try to give work to somebody else. A man or a woman who is unemployed, a girl or a boy without a job, can never be happy because they feel that they are a drag upon the country rather than an asset. We must recognize that there is something wrong with an economy which does not supply every able-bodied citizen who is willing to work some gainful employment at a living wage. Since our economy is out of joint, the government must step in until we get it going again.

The nationwide spontaneous desire to be of service to the country is nothing more than the will of a democracy to preserve itself. It is true that the first step in preserving democracy is to see that every single citizen has an opportunity to earn a livelihood. A second and equally important step is to build up in each of us a sense of responsibility for all the others. During the past weeks, I have been flooded with letters from people in every part of the country suggesting ways in which we can increase our usefulness. Some of them are excellent, some impractical, and some amusing. For example, one writer sponsors the idea of a thirteenth column to represent our thirteen original states. This plan would be very amusing if there were not an element in it which may be very dangerous. The writer suggests that every one of us should appoint himself as a committee of one to listen to orators and others who express themselves in public. Each of these committees should then decide whether the speaker is abusing his right of free speech. Unfortunately, too many of us have different ideas of the meaning of free speech. Too many of us reserve the right of free expression for ourselves and deny it
to others. I am afraid that the kind of thinking behind such a plan may lead to many troubles.

Ever so many people have written to me expressing a desire to take care of refugee children. Some of them want only French children, but it is quite obvious now that it is impossible to get these unfortunate youngsters out of France. Some want children from other countries which are equally impossible to reach at the present time. Everyone seems to feel that these children can be dropped into this country without the slightest difficulty. Unfortunately, this is not the case, but I hope that everyone who is interested in helping the innocent young European victims of the war will get in touch with the US Committee for [the] Care of European Children, which has been formed to bring children from England via Canada. Some of these children will be of other nationalities because they have left their native country to take refuge in England. There are many complications in bringing refugee children to this country with which the average person may not be familiar. The immigration laws have to be observed. Standards have to be set up for the homes of these children. There has to be supervision in each home to ensure good treatment and proper care. This is one piece of work which I am sure will absorb much of the energy now clamoring to expend itself in some service to the government.