One more for the Rose Garden

U.S. President Eisenhower was an experienced writer.

He once remarked to Arthur Larson: “You know that General MacArthur got quite a reputation as a silver-tongued speaker when he was in the Philippines.  Who do you think wrote his speeches?  I did.”

Both Larson and Emmet Hughes, who worked with President Eisenhower on speeches, attested to his skill with words.

At his weekly presidential press conferences, however, Ike could be incomprehensible whenever he wanted to be.  He was a masterly performer.  He went to these conferences knowing exactly what he planned to say and what he intended to avoid saying by employing vague and evasive language.

In May 1954, when the Republic of China threatened to occupy some islands in the Formosa Straits, the State Department was worried about public reaction to anything the President might say about the crisis.

“Mr. President,” press secretary James Hagerty told Ike just before his weekly press conference, “some of the people in the State Department say that the Formosa Strait situation is so delicate that no matter what question you get on it, you shouldn’t say anything at all.”

“Don’t worry, Jim,” said Ike.  “If that question comes up, I’ll just confuse them.”

And in 150 carefully chosen words he did just that.

— from Eisenhower: Portrait of the Hero by Peter Lyon (Boston, 1975), page 641.

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Your bonus…

In July 1923, [President Herbert] Hoover wrote a few powerful paragraphs for President Harding’s Independence Day address, announcing the voluntary abolition by industry of the twelve-hour day and the eight-four-hour week.  His language was so different from the rest of the speech that Harding stumbled over the passage when reading it.  While the audience was applauding the announcement, Harding whispered to Hoover, who was sitting on the platform, “Damn it, Hoover, why don’t you write the same English as I do?”

— from Herbert Hoover: A Biography, by Eugene Lyons (Garden City, N.Y., 1964), page 167.

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Last, but certainly not least, at least, the last:

When [Franklin D.] Roosevelt was getting his Cabinet together, labor leaders suggested several men for the post; but he appointed Frances Perkins instead.

She was the first woman to serve in a President’s Cabinet.

According to a story circulating in Washington [D.C.], Mrs. Roosevelt’s commiserated with her husband over the bad hour he must have had with the labor leaders when he told them he had already made up his mind to appoint Perkins.

“Oh, that’s all right,” FDR was said to have replied, “I’d rather have trouble with them for an hour than trouble with you for the rest of my life!”

— from Eleanor and Franklin by Joseph P. Lash (New York, 1971), page 608.

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