As It Really Happened. 

August 16th 1940

August 16^th 1940 is photography day at the White House. The upcoming campaign for an unprecedented third term is approaching and recent pictures of the candidate are in order.  As with all Roosevelt performances, the set is impeccably staged and the subject prepared in the most flattering light. Just prior to the daily bedroom  breakfast,  Ross  McIntire, as he had done daily from almost a year, washes FDR’s chronically inflamed left maxillary and frontal sinuses with a solution containing cocaine, the most widely employed anesthetic  and blood vessel  constricting agent of the time.  As the usual inner-circle of Harry Hopkins, Steve Early, Missy LeHand  and Chief of staff “Pa” Watson pop in and out, a barber trims his hair and George Fox applies the usual makeup, today with extra special attention to the area over his left eye.  Arthur Prettyman, US Navy chief petty officer, retired, the presidential  valet,  brings out  a light blue seersucker suit and plaid tie. He has been on the job for a year, ever since his predecessor, Irwin MacDuffie was dismissed, in typical Roosevelt fashion, by someone other than himself, in this case Eleanor, after being intoxicated on the job and leaving the President temporarily unattended.

"Morning Pa, what’s on the schedule today?"

"Busy day, Boss, press conference at eleven, lunch with (Naval Secretary) Charlie Edison and a cabinet meeting at two." 

After FDR has read his daily newspapers and all the cosmetics of taken care of, a little after 9 Attorney General Jackson and Treasury Secretary Morganthau are ushered in to to give a briefing.  At a quarter to eleven , Prettyman wheels him down to the Oval Office, where he is met by Steve Early who chimes the customary  “all in” and the show begins. The main topic of the day is an announcement that the United States had engaged with the United Kingdom to acquire land for military bases in the Western Hemisphere. No mention is made regarding the transfer to destroyers from the US to the UK. It will be a few months until FDR and Churchill meet for the first time on the Tuscaloosa to iron out the details of Lend Lease.

Immediately after the press conference, a series of photographers from Washington’s finest photo studios, including Hessler,  Underwood and Harris and Ewing, are afforded an opportunity to create a portrait. Control of the images is airtight since 1936, after an objectionable caption appeared in the newspapers on an unflattering  snapshot.  

“Make me look good boys, there’s an election coming up you know!”

One of today’s color close-up, by Otto Hagel, will appear on a full page in the October issue of Fortune, alongside that of his Republican opponent, Wendell Willkie.  Another, a shot taken by Hessler Studios, will featured on the cover of the photogravure sections of various newspapers, including the October 13^th issue of the Des Moines Sunday Register.

Little does the president realize this day that the images being created to afford him four more years in the position he so covets, will also provide a lasting record of the secret he was so desperately trying to hide.

In their June 10^th issue, Henry Luce’s Time Magazine had featured a cover photo of the bow-tied leader in front of a bank of microphones, and in a highly supportive and laudatory article wrote eloquently of the mystery of his persona:   

“Although he was in his eighth year as President, although he had moved, worked, eaten, laughed, exorted, prayed in the intensest glare of public scrutiny; although his every facial grimace, the tone of his voice, each mannerism, the dark mole over his left eyebrow, the mole on his right cheek- although all of these were public property, intimate to every U.S. citizen, still there was no man in the U.S. who could answer the question: Who is Franklin Roosevelt?”

In November, Roosevelt received his mandate to lead America for another four years. Another picture from the August  16^th photo session, simply captioned “The Winner” adorned the cover of the November 18^th issue of Life, and all was ostensibly well. But in reality something had changed. The “dark mole” over the newly re-elected president’s left eye had lost much of its deep brown pigment.  By the time of the “Arsenal of Democracy” speech on December 27^th, it was mere a shadow of its former self; by the fateful day of December 7^th 1941, it was, for all intents and purposes, gone, never to be seen or spoke of again.

No one outside the president’s inner circle paid much attention to its disappearance, but, in fact, great effort had been made to conceal and deflect attention from it, for the large deep brown spot seen in a video made by the Navy aboard the Tuscaloosa in February, had undergone changes that could only be attributable to surgical removal.

The trick, of course, was to remove it in stages to avoid any notice. For a few days after each procedure, while the area was healing, there could be no close-up photographs of the President. The surgical technique used was a combination of electrical cauterization and curettage (scraping).  Radiation was a consideration but not feasible since it inevitably would have brought about the loss of the entire eyebrow, and most probably the scalp hair, as well as damaging the eye itself. One particular photo from the August 16^th session, a large proof image never intended to be released to the public, clearly reveals that the process had begun. Sparse hairs are combed over a new scar in the base of the eyebrow. Pigmentation in the upper eyelid known as satellite lesions, which had subtly but noticeably increased in size between January 1939 and July 1940 had now been replaced by a small but discreet diagonal surgical scar. All this was well within the capabilities and expertise of a highly skilled eye, ear, nose and throat surgeon, someone who could follow him on a daily basis to soothe the pain and swelling associated with the procedure, Ross McIntire.

It is unclear just when the lesion that first appeared in 1921 and slowly and ominously darkened and expanded from 1933, was diagnosed as what today is called melanoma, then referred to incorrectly as melanotic sarcoma.  In the twenties, as an important part of his rehabilitation from Polio, FDR had make a point of getting as much sun as possible, in tropical climates. In the thirties, he was often was out of public view for days at a time for various ailments, including “grippe”, “influenza” and, most interestingly , a “sty” in his left eye in early 1936. A photograph at this time in LIFE stated that he had “avoiding photographers”.  Indeed he was!

The White House usher’s diary reveals that beginning in early 1939 and continuing until his death, the President’s late afternoon visits to the doctor’s office accelerated to nearly a daily frequency. It is unlikely that this was brought about by a sudden worsening of his “sinus” condition.

What is clear about melanotic sarcoma is that the contemporary mainstream medical literature was concordant about the dire prognosis associated with it. A 1935 article in the highly respected Lancet opined:

“it is customary to speak of melanotic sarcoma as the most malignant of all tumours (emphasis added). It is certainly not the most rapidly fatal. The average duration of a case… is about three years, and up to within a few months of the end the patient remains free from pain and able to get about.”

An eerily accurate 1932 article by H.J. Farrell of the Mayo Clinic, an esteemed institution well respected by FDR, where stomach surgery was performed on both Roosevelt’s son James and his close associate Harry Hopkins, states:

“In spite of the high degree of malignancy, and the rapid onset of death following dissemination of metastatic growths , some persons seem to possess unusual resistance to invasion of the internal organs by these growths. It is probable that metastasis already has taken place at the time of excision of the primary growth (emphasis added), but many years elapse before death occurs from metastasis… The interval between time of excision of the primary growth and demonstrable evidence of metastasis  varied from five to twelve years…. giving a very guarded prognosis in all cases when one is dealing with melanoma.”

“The liver was the internal organ most commonly invaded by metastatic growth;  invasion of the lungs was second… and the brain third. In most cases, there was metastasis to all organs, but before death the patient most frequently presented symptoms referable to the aforementioned organs.”

With present day technique of sentinel node biopsy and the advanced technologies of positron emission (PET) and Magnetic Resonance (MRI) scanning, early detection has been markedly improved, but the prognosis in advanced cases and the time to onset of symptomatic metastases is no better than seventy years ago.

As It really Happened: 

February 20, 1945

Since 2010, I have been anticipating writing a historical novel. As the intimate truth of FDR's daily ordeal has never been told, and there is still a predominant belief in the version created by Howard Bruenn and sanctified by James MacGregor Burns, the only way to avoid a firestorm of critique and write what I sincerely believe to be the most accurate account is to write "fiction". The first installment follows below.

February 20, 1945

It has not been a good day. The President of the United States is sitting alone in his wheelchair swaddled in blankets on the deck of the heavy cruiser USS Quincy, a ship expensively retro-fitted with an elevator and other conveniences, as many he had traveled on previously in order to accommodate the extraordinary physical needs of the Commander-in-Chief. FDR has been avoiding Sam Rosenman, his speechwriter who joined the return cruise from Yalta in Algiers, specifically to assist with his anticipated address to Congress upon his return.

The speech is perhaps the most important FDR will ever give, a report on negotiations with Churchill and Stalin and to lay out his plan for a world peace organization that will shape the future of the world. Yes, the brilliant phrase from his first inaugural “we have nothing to fear but fear itself” instilled hope for the downtrodden millions in the throes of the worst economic crisis America had ever endured. Surely “a date that will live infamy” was the masterful catchphrase that led his countrymen into four years of vicious and costly armed conflict. But this speech is very different. For nearly a quarter of a century Roosevelt has fought health problems that would have relegated a lesser man to a life of solitude and retreat, overcoming crippling polio and keeping the ravages of cancer and the long-standing knowledge of its inevitable and fatal return in check for a decade.  But now time is rapidly running out, and he knows it!  It is the last chance to establish a legacy, to succeed where Woodrow Wilson failed and plant the seeds of The United Nations.

The cold Atlantic wind is strangely refreshing to the veteran seaman, a slap in the face to a mind that has increasingly frequent and severe lapses of function. He must focus as his body betrays him. It did not help that his daughter Anna informed him at breakfast that the nearest person he had to a real friend, his Chief of Staff “Pa” Watson, had succumbed to a stroke suffered on board three days earlier. Always ready with a light-hearted quip, the devoted Watson was a year younger than Roosevelt and, like him, had been dealing with heart disease and prostate problems for years. It was not just the loss of a confidante that affected Roosevelt so deeply, but also the bitter reminder that his own tenuous grip on life was nearly at an end. He had known of Watson’s death watch for three days but never made the trip a few decks down to sick bay to see him. It was just too painful to bear witness, just as it had been after the stroke suffered in 1941 by his paramour and devoted companion of two decades, Marguerite “Missy” Lehand.

This speech must be given to a live audience; it was simply too crucial for radio and edited video as he had done for his State of the Union address in January before leaving for the Crimea. Nor was there time to call in the professional make-up artists from Hollywood as he had before to disguise the ravages of his disease. Now the charade of vitality could no longer be kept up. Standing behind a lectern was no longer a viable option. The first lesson was in August at the shipyard in Bremerton, Washington when pain was an unwelcome accompaniment to an hour long address on the fantail of a docked destroyer. The searing pain in his back from erosive invasion of his spine from a mere five minutes of standing on January 20th at his fourth inauguration pushed him to the limit of what even he could endure.

Over and over, Roosevelt pondered how he would reveal to the American public what had been painstakingly guarded from the public since he became President. A pronouncement of this monumental importance could not extemporaneous, the master orator and showman who orchestrated meticulous control every word and gesture of his public appearances would have to commit it to memory, nor would he share these most intimate thoughts with Rosenman.

For the first time he would be publically wheeled into the chamber of the House of Representatives and transfer himself into a comfortable chair to present the address. Even then, no permanent visible record of this event would be permitted, enforceable only by virtue of the airtight control of the media he, with the help of his Press Secretary Stephen Early, had cultivated over twelve years.

Day after day, over and over, Franklin Roosevelt searched for the answer. Finally it came. In the end it was just too much out of character for him to directly say, in effect, “ Look, I am crippled”. The appeal would be indirect, for empathy rather than pity.

“Pardon me for the unusual posture of sitting down. I hope you will understand that it is easier for me not to have to carry around ten pounds of steel on my legs, and also because I’ve just made a fourteen thousand mile trip”.

Now that the really hard part was over, he could summon Rosenman to embark on the tedious business of speech writing.

The cachectic and spent Harry Hopkins, soon to be hospitalized at the Mayo Clinic, had abruptly left the Presidential entourage at Algiers without briefing Rosenman. In FDR’s compromised state, his patience with his old friend was short and their unknowing final parting was curt and less than cordial.

Rosenman had been in London during the Yalta Conference. He was well aware that the address to Congress was to focus on FDR’s desire to be seen as the great mediator between Stalin and Churchill. The first draft that he had already crafted was dismissed out of hand. Even after five additional attempts, the President informed him that he would ask his son-in-law, John Boettinger go over it after they reached Washington to make yet further revisions. In all, there were six drafts before the carefully worded thirty-one double-spaced typed pages of the reading copy were placed into a loose-leaf binder to be carried into the historic chamber of the House of Representatives.

Marguerite Alice LeHand

Marguerite  Alice "Missy" LeHand (1897-1944) was one of the most important and powerful women of the twentieth century, yet is perhaps the most under-appreciated.

For the two decades between 1921 and 1941, until a disabling illness, she was Franklin Roosevelt's most important female relationship, and for the first nine years of his monumental presidency was his functional chief of staff, indispensable right hand, policy advisor, social co-host and companion. Missy was the conduit and filter to whom anyone who wanted access to FDR had to pass through.

Because she only had a high school education, as did many of FDR's closest associates as well as his final vice president Harry Truman!, and because she predeceased Roosevelt, who was extremely protective of the privacy of his intimate relationships, her rightful place in history has been vastly attenuated. After Eleanor, of whom countless volumes have been deservedly written, Missy ranks as the most important female relationship of his life. FDR himself recognized this as he was prepared to leave half the income from his estate for her medical expenses. These were enormous, as she was disabled by a devastating stroke at age 44.

I have recently acquired two items with reference to Missy that I am proud to share.

The first is a print issued in conjunction with FDR's second inaugural of which a very limited amount were personally signed by Roosevelt. This one is inscribed "To Marguerite A. LeHand, with love, Franklin D. Roosevelt." I have not seen any other document or letter with such an inscription. The document itself is quite interesting as it depicts the White House at the time of the second inaugural in 1937, in front of which had been constructed a replica of The Hermitage, the home of Andrew Jackson.

The second piece of memorabilia is perhaps the only surviving remnant of the S.S. Marguerite LeHand, the Liberty ship that was launched on March 28, 1945, just two weeks prior to FDR's death. This wonderfully carved plaque, to which is attached the bottle used to christen the ship it, most probably resided in the captain's quarters until the LeHand was unceremoniously renamed and eventually scrapped. The sponsor, Mrs. Thomas E. Collins, was Missy's niece. Unfortunately, the S.S. Marguerite LeHand will perhaps be most remembered "in infamy" for accidentally ramming and sinking another vessel, the Coast Guard Cutter Magnolia, on August 26, 1945, resulting in the death of a crewman.

Despite Missy's importance, not a single volume has yet been written about her. I am happy to know this soon will be corrected. Historian Kathryn Smith, using original research and a wealth of original and formerly unknown material supplied by Missy's relatives, is in the process of writing a book tentatively titled "Missy: FDR's Intimate Partner in Polio and Politics"; it will finally begin the long-needed process of giving Missy LeHand her rightful position as one of America's most important female political figures.

Another Small Piece of the Puzzle

I am often asked where I got all my information from. Most people assume that there is a file at the FDR Library or some learned treatise that lays out the truth of Franklin Roosevelt's medical history and that an autopsy was performed that confirms the existence of the multiple cancers that were ultimately responsible for the deterioration and demise of our late, great thirty-second POTUS.

Of course this is not the case. The pieces reside scattered in countless volumes and documents, often just a word, a phrase or sentence or paragraph.

We have been able to reconstruct the puzzle, not completely, but enough to see the big picture.

I recently found another small but significant piece in a work I was made aware of by a wonderful South Carolina historian who is researching an important book on Marguerite "Missy" LeHand, the first second, third or fourth most important woman in FDR's life if one were to try to assign priority with Margaret Suckley, Lucy Mercer Rutherfurd and Eleanor (my take is a very close number two to ER).

The information is contained in a wonderful book entitled "Behold the Dreamer", the story of Fulton Oursler, the reporter who did quite a bit to get FDR elected in 1932. The last portion of the book is actually a separate work entitled "Through the White House Side Door". Incidentally the side door was the one where people could come and go without being "signed in" a la Howard Bruenn.

Aside from many wonderful anecdotes worth reading by the FDR afficionado, the last sentence on page 439 describes an incident where FDR "got his dutch up" and reads "I noticed a flap of flesh that had grown over his left eye and other visible physical deteriorations."

For the record, he "flap of skin" did not grow there, it was put there as a graft to cover up the ongoing removal of FDR's melanoma. What Oursler saw saw is likely what can be observed in the accompanying photograph, this one from 1942. To directly dispute what Howard Bruenn told Jan Herman in 1989, this is not a "photographic error".

Excelsior!

SL

An FDR Fairy Tale

Since the presently held view of FDR's life is still the one perpetuated by Howard Bruenn, James MacGregor Burns and the Roosevelt family in 1970, I decided to write a fairy tale of my own. Eventually, video will be added and it will be posted on You Tube.

A Tale of the Great King Franklin

Once upon a time there was a handsome young prince named Franklin who was born in a castle aside the river that flows to the great city. He lived in great privilege and comfort, the only child of a Duke and Dutchess born of the families that long ago had come across the sea and settled in Gotham in the Land of Freedom.

It was the Prince’s destiny to become a great King of the Land of Freedom, but only should he marry a duckling with whom he must remain for the entirety of his mortal life. For the duckling was also a scion, and though homely of countenance was most attractive to the Prince as she was the favorite of her uncle, the King of Sagamore by the bay, whom the Prince wished to follow into greatness.

The Prince had been lonely as he was schooled in the ways of the world cloistered in his castle until a young man. After fourteen years, the Prince was dispatched to a School of Princes and then to the great College of Princes near the City of the Bay as had the KIng of Sagamore before him. When the Duke died the Minister of the School of Princes did offer him solace and wise counsel as though a father.

The Duckling was forlorn as well, as her mother had died when she was but eight and her father, the brother of the King of Sagamore, had passed on soon after under an evil spell that very early took him from the land of Gotham, never to return.

Much to the consternation of the Dutchess, the Prince did court the Duckling, and she soon fell under his powerful spell. At the royal wedding the Minister did preside and the Prince felt duly regal as the King of Sagamore delivered the Duckling to him.

For a time, they lived happily in the land beside the river and summered on an island of beauty in the north, and she bore him five chicks. Soon after, the Prince came upon a Gnome who was a soothsayer and prophet of his greatness and together they set out upon the golden road to win his kingdom. The Prince won praise as a fighter of the Tigers who had come to rule his domain and when the Prince was struck ill of fever the Gnome did most admirably advocate for him.

With the Gnome at his side, the Prince departed the land of Gotham for the City of KIngs to assist the leader of the soldiers of the sea. He was pleased, for the vessels of the sea had always brought him great joy and again he did continue in the footsteps of the King of Sagamore. The leader afforded the Prince great power in the City of KIngs and it made him feel strong. Here he met a Spider who was a herald and spoke well of his deeds.

But now the prince came upon a beautiful Swan, for whom he felt great love and wished to sacrifice the prospect of his future kingdom. The Duckling, who had been forewarned, came upon letters that spoke of the Prince’s affection for the Swan. With great vigor the Dutchess and the Duckling beseeched the Prince that the Swan, however beautiful, must be cast aside, for they both desired him to be King in their own way and he could never be so in her presence. And the Prince most reluctantly consented, for the prospect his Kingdom was most alluring, but for his transgression of passion the Duckling did now forever bar him from her most intimate affections.

And so the Prince and the Gnome continued their journey on the golden road.  All appeared well as the Prince was acclaimed across the land. But alas, one day whilst summering on the beautiful island he was most unexpectedly struck down by a crippling plague that for a time stripped him of his royal demeanor. Possessed of great determination, he would again take up his quest, with the help of the Gnome, the Duckling, and now a Goose who had come to assist him. On withered legs for all to see the Prince most bravely sung the praises of a Warrior of the Tigers who wished to be king, but the power of the Elephants who ruled the land was too great. Yet the people had come to know of the Prince’s courage and he was pleased.

Though forever smitten by the Swan, who had found a measure of contentment with an elder Cygnet far from the land of Gotham, the Prince came to admire the Goose, who attended to his needs and fell most deeply under his spell, and with whom he did consort as the Duckling and the Chicks accepted with quiet resignation, for the Prince was indeed of greatness and the providence and expectation of his future kingdom was paramount to all.  

And the Prince built the Duckling a cottage on the creek of Val Kill near the castle of the Dutchess, where she lived with a nest of ducklings with whom she flourished and built a royal domain of her own. Soon the Duckling came upon a Hen, a herald and scribe as had been the Gnome, with whom she would share great affection.

And when the Wizard of the withering plague died, the Prince, with the Goose at his side on the raft Larooco and then beside the waters of the great Warm Spring of the south did himself become a great Wizard. As he was most enamored of the healing waters, he took nearly all the gold he possessed and purchased the land so that others of the plague might be restored as well. And he sought the counsel of a Wizard of the Sea whom he had befriended during their service to the King of the Great War.

And now a Knight of Eire came to him to hasten his journey to the throne. For the Knight was a maker of Kings and had done good deeds in the service of the King of the Tigers. A time of great decision arose as the Prince was implored to govern the land of Gotham as had the King the Sagamore before him. And though his legs were yet withered, the time was ripe and he cast aside his wizardly endeavors to pursue his destiny with the greatest of vigor.

The Duckling was torn, for her cottage and her court were now most comfortable and she knew that great changes would come to pass and that her life could never be the same. Indeed, she went with the Prince, for now she loved him as a brother and wished not to cast a shadow upon his dream.

And it came to pass that the elephants had governed poorly and a great famine came upon the people of the Land of Freedom, for the bankers and brokers in the city of Gotham did act most unwisely. (alas, a most similar misfortune would come to pass three score and ten years hence, for, in this case, the elephants had forgotten!).

And the people rose up and did mandate the Prince to ascend to the throne and restore them to prosperity. At his coronation, the new King spoke to the people most eloquently and forcefully to assuage their fears. The Wizard of the Sea presided and saw that the Swan, who had indeed remained spellbound, could bear witness.  And the Wizard brought a second Wizard to attend to the King and with him a Fox to soothe him as he had done for the King of the Great War in his years of infirmity. And he brought a loyal Lion as well, to ease the King’s burden and to walk with him. The King was pleased and took the new Wizard, the Lion and the Fox into his most intimate court.

Now the new King Franklin and his Goose and the new Queen and her Hen all took residence, along with the Gnome, in the royal White Castle in the City of Kings.

As never before, a whirlwind of great changes came to pass. To bring the people out from the abyss that the elephants had created, the new King enlisted a parliament of owls most learned in the ways of the world, a shepherdess of the laborers he had long known, given power that no woman had known before and a Greyhound to rightly administer the good offices of a New Deal that he had conceived. And the offices bore names of but letters of the alphabet that in turn became symbols of a spirit of hope and restored prosperity. The Greyhound returned the people to work to rebuild the land and as he had promised most emphatically, the new King did champion the repeal of the prohibition of drink that had been most unwisely imposed.

As no King had done before he did banter most regularly with a gaggle of heralds that the Spider had gathered. And they spoke well of him, for had they not, they most surely would have fallen from favor and been banished. And as if magic he spoke to the people in their homes as they sat beside the hearth to tell of his good deeds and assure them that their future would be bright, and he curried great favor in their hearts and minds.

And the many fruits of his good deeds remain, celebrated by his subjects whom he and the shepherdess endowed with comfort in their later years as none had been known before and by the sons and daughters of his warriors to whom he gave a gift of learning after their days of battle, and for the hope he exuded and the passion he showed for ruling his kingdom during a reign of unprecedented and never to be repeated duration.


As the KIng was now most powerful, he no longer wished the people to think of his withered legs as he wanted to appear most strong in their eyes, so he commanded the Spider to spin a web whereupon the image makers would not show it, nor the heralds speak of it. And as he was often unwell, the King commanded the Spider and the Second Wizard to spin webs to assure the heralds and the people that he was strong.

As the Gnome was now weak of body, the Greyhound rose to a position of great favor, but then he too fell most gravely ill. Though relieved by a miracle of the knife, he was left forever wanting of sustenance and the King enlisted the Wizards of the Sea to sustain him. By great fortune this was so.

Yet, alas, as the King performed good deeds and the people did most convincingly mandate his reign for a second time, a more malignant and dread affliction befell him that all the greatest wizards had little power to stop. And its story could never be told, for its curse was so strong that should it had been revealed, the people would no longer permit him to be their King, and this could never come to pass. And its secret was so deep that even the Queen and the Chicks could not know of it, nor of all the great Wizards who would come to fight it.

And when the King was troubled that the nine elder trolls of supreme justice did challenge the authority of his reign, he took great measure to diminish their power.  But here he did fail, as the people spoke out in rebuke, for even the greatest of kings could not be permitted to undo the scroll of laws that the fathers of their land had written and that he had sworn twice to protect.

And as the Gnome had died, the Greyhound took his place in the great White Castle so that his King might be best served.

There came a time where the King did need the people to affirm his reign for a third time, as no King had done before. But this was a time when his mortal body felt most unwell as the Wizards did valiantly fight the great curse. In a moment of despair the King told the Knight of his weariness, and the Knight took it as a sign that he might not seek to remain on the throne. For a time, the Knight aspired  to assume it. After a voyage of healing and a period of great consternation, the King was restored, and though the Knight withdrew, as the mythical Icarus of yore, he had flown too close to the sun and was forever banished from the royal court.

Through all, the people knew little of the Goose who had sustained and nurtured their King until she herself fell silent. For the Queen had achieved a greatness of her own measure, as she had roved far and wide and became known as a champion of goodness and freedom. As such the people were happy with the image of togetherness of the King and Queen, knowing not that they lived in separate cottages with separate courts to attend them.

Now a great war was raging in foreign lands and the King dispatched the Greyhound to meet with a golden-throated Bulldog of the great island in the Atlantic, whose domain had nearly been conquered by a most evil Brown Ogre. And the Greyhound told the King of the power of the Bulldog. As the King and the Bulldog were kindred spirits they came together to lay down a charter of freedom and a plan for the future of the world. And the King spoke eloquently of his nation as an Arsenal of Democracy and thus did sustain the domain of the Bulldog with loans of goods, even as a great Eagle and the many that followed him did most vigorously disapprove. And the King spoke most eloquently that all peoples of the world should be free of hunger, fear and want and that they might worship without incumbrance.

But yet again the King’s mortal body would fail him, for as he spoke at the home of the King of the Great War in the valley of the river Shenandoah he fell gravely ill with a dearth of blood that robbed him of his strength. And though he nearly died, the Spider and the Second Wizard spun a web and the people were be told but little of it, yet all the King’s Wizards could not discover of what had afflicted him.

After an image he had drawn, the King built a great temple of health on the healing land of Bethesda, so that the Wizards might best sustain him and to soothe the wounds of the soldiers of battle. And in great secrecy he went there often to be restored.

And as he now knew that the curse would surely return to take him, he built a library next to the castle of the Dutchess, as no King had done before, to preserve the images he had created. In his repository, he placed documents that did attest to his greatness yet little that spoke of his infirmities and none of his most secret affliction. And he beseeched the deeply spellbound Maiden of Wilderstein to assist him, and she most gladly followed, for he had often spoken to her with an intimacy as only few had known.

And when the Dutchess died, a great oak on her land fell as though an omen of her passing. For her castle was now but an ornament, as the King had built a cottage of his own and the Queen had been long absent.

Now it came to pass that leaders of the evil Empire of the Rising Sun did without notice most dastardly smite the vessels of the Land of Freedom. In his finest hour, he gallantly spoke of a day of infamy and of how his people would prevail and his words became a rallying cry and his voice and image sentinels of freedom. And the screams of the Eagle were most abruptly silenced.

And as the Cygnet had died, the Swan came again to comfort the King, as did a princess of the land of Odin.

As the Ogre and a Black Duke of Italy had joined the Empire of the Rising Sun to form an axis of evil, the King sent the Greyhound to a Red Bear of the east who had been crossed by the Ogre. And the Greyhound told him of how the Bear could help him fight the Ogre. With the greatest power of all, the King joined the Bulldog, the Bear and a Blue Dragon of the Orient, and led them in their fight against the axis.

The King traveled with the Bulldog to the land of the Moors to plan great battles and most surprisingly declared that he would offer no mercy to the evil axis. And there they met with a pompous Peacock of Gaul whose domain had been conquered by the Ogre. And then he traveled to the land of the Persians to lay his eyes upon the Bear. With a most reluctant Bulldog, they did plan a time that a great invasion of the Ogre’s fortress would come to pass and they spoke in earnest of the shape of the world after the evil axis had been conquered.

But, alas, while in the land of the Persians a great pain came upon the KIng that was a harbinger of the return of the dreaded curse. And the Second Wizard did most surreptitiously bring a flock of Great Wizards of the Knife to attend him, but the curse had spread within his mortal body and could no longer be excised. And the vigor of the King did now inexorably decline, for now his stout heart did also fail. And though the die had been cast, the second Wizard brought a powerful third Wizard of the heart to hold off the angel of death.

As the King knew he would soon be no longer, he planned a great Temple of Peace for all
the kings of the world so that his memory would be forever honored, as he had borne witness to failure of the King of The Great War to do so, and how it had devastated him.

And when the kingmakers saw their King was weakened, they did enquire as to whom might succeed to his throne, but the King cared little for who was chosen, for his waning powers were now consumed by his Temple of Peace.

The King planned a meetings with the Bulldog to speak of the great invasion and to be at his side on the great day, but he had not the strength to make the journeys. And he went to the Temple at Bethesda and the Wizard of the Heart was most appalled, for he now knew that only with the most powerful medicines could the King continue his reign.

One last time, the Second Wizard called together all of the great Wizards to save their King, but they were powerless. Now the Wizard of the Heart could never leave the King’s side, for he alone could sustain him. And the King was taken to the land of a Baron of the South to be restored, as the first Wizard had done before him. With a roster of afflictions to which weaker men would surely succumb, he valiantly fought on.

As he sat with his admirals and generals on a distant island, the Goose died and the King dispatched the Queen to honor her, for though he most dutifully had assured her comfort, he could never bear witness to her weakness. As the voice of the Goose had been silenced in life, so were her writings in death, for the tales they told could never be known.

With great effort, the people were made to believe that their King was strong. As if a miracle, before a flock of laborers he most skillfully spun a ribald tale of a dog that the Maiden had given him and the people yet again affirmed him to be their leader. At his last coronation, he called upon all the remaining strength he possessed to speak but briefly and with great discomfort. Hereafter he would stand no more.

On their last great voyage, the ailing King and Greyhound and Lion traveled to the Palace of the Emperors on the Black Sea in the land of the Bear. And now the King could no longer hide his weakness. While the Bulldog gasped in horror at the plight of his friend, the wily Bear now knew that he would be strong. Indeed, the King did secretly give him a gift of great power, for without the Bear, his Temple of Peace would be but a sham. And the Bear used the power the King gave him to give strength to a Red Dragon, long a rival of the Blue Dragon who had fought the evil Empire of the Rising Sun long before the world knew of the bad deeds it performed.  

As he returned the from land of the Bear, the Lion died, and the the King was most despondent, for he had not only lost a loyal courtesan but had been most bitterly reminded that his own time was growing ever short. Soon, he spoke to the people to tell of his vision for the future of the world. But now his legs were too weak to carry him and the voice that had once been a clarion call of hope was now but a whisper, and the portent of death loomed on his countenance for all to see.

One last time he returned to the land of the Warm Spring to be restored, but it was not to be so. And when he died, his beloved Swan and devoted Maiden were at his side.

And though his body was no more his powerful spell lived on, for the Queen continued in his good deeds and stood in his place at the first gathering of the Temple of Peace and his courtesans continued to sing his praises as the Second Wizard spoke of his vigor and greatness.

As a sign of the good he had done for the afflicted, his image was placed upon a coin of his realm, for though he had long put aside his wizardly duties, the day of his birth had become a day of charity and his deeds an inspiration.

And it came to pass that the King’s gift of power to the Bear bore bitter fruit, for the new leader of the Land of Freedom had been told little of the goings of the world and the Red Dragon took the power he had been given by the Bear and drove the Blue Dragon from his land. Soon the Dragon and the Bear came together to build a powerful Red Empire and a war of ideas came to pass between the Red Empire and the Kingdoms of Freedom. Once and again, the soldiers of Freedom were called to fight the Red Empire on distant lands but now they could not prevail as when the King was their leader.

When the Queen died she was laid to rest beside the King, as though they had always been together. And the spell of the Great King still lives on, as the memory of their togetherness is strong, even as all the royal princes and princess are gone, for the sons and daughters of his sons and daughter wish it so.

After the second Wizard died, there came a time that that people began to doubt the tale he had spun. Now it fell upon the third Wizard to weave a yet more tangled tale that he oft retold so convincingly that the recorders of history continue to echo it in their scrolls.

And when the Maiden died, she also left a scroll for the world to discover that attested to his greatness but told little of what she had known of the plagues that the Wizards could not conquer.

Alas, talk of the greatness and devotion of the noble Goose is but a whisper while the memory of the togetherness of the King and Queen ring loudly in the hearts and minds of those that make the record of history, as though they had always lived ... happily ever after.

A "new" picture of FDR in a wheelchair. USS Indianapolis 1933

In 1933, a Machinist's Mate on the heavy cruiser USS Indianapolis Gerhard Stoeckel, Sr. of Allentown, Pennsylvania., snapped a photo of FDR during his visit to the ship and stowed it away in a scrapbook. It was found by his son and used by his daughter as a "show and tell" at her school. When Stoeckel Jr. subsequently heard that only two photos of FDR in a wheelchair were known he contacted the FDR Library and one of the archivists, Mark Renovitch, confirmed the authenticity.

The keel of the Indianapolis was laid in 1932. In 1933 it picked up FDR at Campobello and transported him stateside. This was the first time the President was a guest on the ship. He again boarded it in May 1934 to review the Navy in New York Harbor but never donned casual clothing. Numerous photos from this day are known, most of which with FDR under on the the large guns with various dignitaries and family members. Again 1936, FDR chose the Indianapolis for his "friendship cruise" to South America. Gus Gennerich died on this cruise while having dinner in a restaurant in Buenos Aires. The much admired aide was given a state funeral by FDR.

The man on the left is August Adolph "Gus" Gennerich. To his his left, the rumpled man is Louis McHenry Howe, the political genius most responsible for FDR's ascendency to the presidency. Howe died in early 1936 and this unfortunate fact unequivocally excludes 1936 as a possible date for the photo, since Howe died earlier in that year.

The photo is unfortunately of poor resolution since it was an AP wirephoto, essentially a fax. Despite the appearance of a 1999 article in the Allentown Morning Call, the discovery of this important photograph failed to be widely noticed. The text of the original article, sleuthed out by my co-author Eric Fettmann, appears below. It contains numerous historical inaccuracies, though importantly, it identifies that Stoeckel had been stationed on the Indianapolis since 1932.

Thanks to FDRL archivist, Bob Clark for his impeccable research in identifying the correct date of the photo. My copy of the photo now resides at the FDRL, where it will soon be placed on display.

Enjoy a piece of history!

SL

Morning Call (Allentown, PA)
March 9, 1997, Sunday, THIRD EDITION
A RARE PHOTO;
* WHILE HE WAS A SAILOR ON BOARD THE USS INDIANAPOLIS, AN ALLENTOWN MAN;
CAPTURED THIRD KNOWN PHOTOGRAPH OF FDR IN A WHEELCHAIR.

BYLINE: JIM KELLY; The Morning Call

SECTION: NATIONAL, Pg. A1

LENGTH: 1709 words

In an era when there was no official White House photographer, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt was probably the most photographed man in the nation.

More than 25,000 images of him are on file at the FDR Presidential Library in Hyde Park, N.Y, most of them taken by news photographers who willingly adhered to a strict ruling by theRoosevelt family that the president was not to be photographed in his wheelchair.

Only two photographs of FDR in his wheelchair have been known to exist -until now.

The photograph accompanying this story is the third.

It was taken more than 60 years ago, in 1936, by Gerhard Stoeckel Sr. of Allentown, while he was a chief machinist's mate on board the heavy cruiser USS Indianapolis on which Rooseveltsailed to Latin America for what was called "The Good Neighbor Cruise."

The historic photograph has laid all these years in a scrapbook retained by Stoeckel's son, Gerhard Stoeckel Jr., 69, of 1536 Liberty St.

Stoeckel Jr. rediscovered the photo after reading a recent article stating that only two photos exist of FDR in a wheelchair.

Only then did Stoeckel realize what he had. He knew he had a photo of FDR in his house, and it was one of the president in a wheelchair.

Mark Renovitch, archivist at the Hyde Park library, confirmed the find. "We have for years told anybody who called us that there were only two. Now we have to correct what we've been saying all these years."

Renovitch said he would love to see Stoeckel's photo join the library's collection.

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The cruise began on Nov. 18, 1936, shortly after Roosevelt was overwhelmingly re-elected for his second term.

Accompanying him were his bodyguard August "Gus" Gennerich; FDR's physician, Dr. Marvin McIntyre; his military aide Edwin "Pa" Watson and the president's son, James.

Allentown educator Dr. John J. McHugh, who has studied FDR and the Roosevelt family since 1945, believes the civilians in the photo with the president are Gennerich and McIntyre.

The Hyde Park library confirmed that it is, indeed, Gennerich standing at the left. They were not able to confirm if the man next to Roosevelt is McIntyre, based on the fax sent them.

The fact that it is Gennerich shows that the picture was taken on the way to Latin America because Gennerich died Dec. 1 of a heart attack while in Buenos Aires.

It is probably the last picture taken of the man who had been the president's faithful aide since 1928.

"Gus was Franklin Roosevelt's legs," said McHugh. He was a New York cop who met FDR in Albany while he was the governor. Gus was a jovial man who loved to tell stories, McHugh said. "Gus was his best buddy and his protector.

"He had a special place at the White House where he would sit at the door with a big dog that he owned.

"He took precedence over everybody else, including the Secret Service, and Roosevelt thought so highly of him, he gave Gus a White House burial. His body lie in state in the East Room of the White House, an honor usually reserved for only the president."

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The Stoeckel picture surfaced about 15 years ago when Stoeckel Jr.'s son, Gerhard Stoeckel III, made an enlargement of the scrapbook picture so his daughter, Holly, could take it to a grade school show-and-tell.

Neither little Holly, now 26 and a teacher in Myerstown, nor her family or classmates at McKinley School had any idea how rare a piece of history was on display in the classroom that day.

It was just another day at school and the picture was returned to the family files -- until last week.

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Gerhard Stoeckel Sr. was born in Kemetz, Germany in 1900, but his family had emigrated to Allentown where his father worked as a shoemaker. Gerhard left school, worked at the Bonney Forge Tool and Die shop for a spell and then joined the Navy in 1919, on the condition set by his parents that he continue to send money home to help the family.

Stoeckel thrived on Navy life, finishing first in his class at machinist's school and eventually rising to the enlisted rank of chief petty officer.

He had been on board the cruiser Indianapolis since 1932 and was ranking CPO in the engine room when the president came aboard.

For Franklin Roosevelt, being at sea was the greatest tonic, notes McHugh. His physician was constantly after him to take a vacation, so FDR combined his love of the Navy, his need for a vacation and the political need to establish good relations with Latin America.

The president had made other cruises on the USS Indianapolis, said Stoeckel Jr. His father told him that the cruiser had an elevator installed expressly for FDR so he could move from deck to deck.

Stoeckel Jr. relates a tale about the time his dad "put the lights out for the president." The president wanted more light in his room, so an officer was dispatched to the engine room where Chief Stoeckel was at his station.

"The president wants more light," he was told. "Can you give any more electric power?"

"I have one more generator," Chief Stoeckel said. "Give me 20 minutes."

The officer said, "Now!"

Had he been given the time to build up more steam, everything would have been fine. But like a good sailor, when you get an order you do it, his son said.

"He turned on the last generator and everything went black."

But it didn't seem to hurt his career. He stayed on board the Indianapolis until 1939 and was discharged from the service Dec. 10, 1940.

It was a short departure, however, because he went right back to serve his country and his Commander in Chief again when World War II began.

"After training 20 years for war," he told his son, "it would be like turning your back on your country. Eventually father and son both would serve in the Navy during the war.

As a footnote to the story, Chief Stoeckel was aboard another ship when it was sunk off Casa Blanca during the war, and he lived to tell about it.

After the war he returned to Allentown and worked at Bethlehem Steel until he retired. He died in 1980 at the age of 80.

His old ship, the USS Indianapolis, was sunk at 12:15 a.m. July 30, 1945, by two torpedoes from the Japanese sub I-58. The cruiser capsized and sank within two minutes, with no S.O.S. sent out. Only 318 of her crew of 1,199 survived. Many were lost to sharks.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Franklin Roosevelt became an invalid in 1921. He lived the last 24 years of his 63-year life disabled by polio.

The first wheelchair photos were taken by Margaret "Daisy" Suckley (pronounced "Bookley"), according to McHugh.

"Margaret Suckley was a distant cousin of FDR's, but during his presidency she became his closest companion," McHugh said.

"She was a remarkable woman who dedicated her life to the president. She was the only person with whom he would talk confidentially," McHugh added.

McHugh met and interviewed Suckley often, he said, but she would always deflect personal questions about her relationship with the president. She took her story with her when she died at the age of 100.

She willed her estate Wilderstein to a preservation group that discovered a steamer trunk under her bed filled with diaries, letters and memorabilia of the president, including the two previous wheelchair photos.

One is a frontal photo of the president, his dog Fala in his lap, and a 5-year-old girl named Ruthie Bie, by his side.

The second is a photo from the rear showing FDR's broad shoulders against the wheelchair, which actually was a homemade contraption made from a cutdown kitchen chair.

The photos wound up with Geoffrey C. Ward, the former editor of American Heritage Magazine, who turned the material into a book, "Closest Companion: The Unknown Story of the Intimate Friendship between Franklin Roosevelt and Margaret Suckley."

Ward, questioned about the possibility of other photos of the type, said, "Probably in the world there may be others."

There may have been a Life magazine picture taken at great distance of FDR being wheeled to his library at Hyde Park, Ward said, but he didn't look it up.

"No other pictures of him in a wheelchair were ever published in his lifetime," he said.

Another cherished possession of the Stoeckel family is an official "Shellback" certificate signed by the president.

Among the letters in "Closest Companion" is a letter from FDR to Daisy that confirms The King Neptune Ceremony as a highlight of the cruise for the men and the president.

In his letter to Daisy, FDR described the traditional ceremony:

"Monday 23 -- All is preparation for the Crossing of the Equator -- I am the Senior Pollywog ... at 7:30 tonight there was a loud beating of drums and blowing of bugles ... announcing that at noon tomorrow Father Neptune & his court will come on board to initiate all Pollywogs into the mysteries of the deep & make them into Shellbacks!

"Tues. 24 -- At last YF (Your Franklin) is a Shellback! Are you duly proud of him? ...

"As a matter of fact, I got off very lightly -- The King, Queen, Royal Baby & a large Court retinue appeared in the most gorgeous costumes, were duly seated on a platform & then the fun began -- I had to make a speech in defense -- but the others were dunked in a tank, put in a coffin, "electrocuted," spanked, tickled, etc. -- over 200 of them & it lasted from noon till 4.

"Weds. 25 -- All on board have settled down to the usual routine after the 'show' of the past two days -- and I slept till ten this morning ... I spend spare moments signing the King Neptune certificates -- big colored affairs -for the whole ship's company -- about 700 of them!"

It appears that FDR was much more thrilled with being a Shellback than being a goodwill ambassador.

With the death of his buddy, Gus, the joyous cruise was turned into a somber journey home, where he would return to all the problems that awaited.

But with the help of an Allentown sailor's scrapbook, the world can see President Roosevelt as he really was -- a remarkable man in a wheelchair

Pearl Harbor by Steven M.Gillon. FDR and Cocaine

My co-author Eric Fettmann, who has read an advance copy of a new FDR book by Steven M. Gillon entitled "Pearl Harbor" discusses certain aspects of FDR's health. I'm told in particular he theorizes how Dr. McIntire treated FDR on a daily basis with nasal medicine for his "sinus" condition that contained cocaine. He further notes that a number of physicians confirmed that cocaine was commonly employed at this time. In the 1960's when I was an operating room technician, before med school, cocaine was routinely employed as an anesthetic for nasal treatments and still is today.

The use of cocaine by FDR for "sinus treatments" is not surprising. We know, from readily available information that from mid-1939, FDR saw McIntire on a daily basis for "sinus treatments". I believe the only incorrect assumption is that cocaine was being used to treat FDR for chronic sinusitis. Cocaine is a powerful anesthetic and vasoconstrictor and was being used to combat the pain brought on by the constant irritation from therapy. With the goal of affecting a slow cosmetic removal of the cancerous lesion, FDR had innumerable painful procedures over his left eye and in his sinuses, performed by McIntire Between early 1940 and late 1941. Daily use of cocaine obviously leads to addiction, ceasing use, brings about a"rebound" phenomenon, a nasal swelling and intense congestion begging for more cocaine. Mcintire had no problem obtaining cocaine for medical use.

Yes, FDR was probably dependent on cocaine from 1939 on. The really interesting part is how it affected the other aspects of his health, i.e. his blood pressure, and even more so his personality and decision making. I would refer the reader to "An Anatomy of an Addiction" by Howard Markel, 2011, Pantheon Books, which provides an excellent and detailed discussion of the effect of cocaine on Sigmund Freud and William Stewart Halsted. It is a good basis for the non-medical historian to begin to understand how FDR really functioned.

Unfortunately, the historical community continues assess Franklin Roosevelt as Howard Bruenn portrayed him and not how he really was. McIntire's continuous assertion that he rarely touched his patient is so much crap, he was a top notch physician and FDR always received the best medical care. McIntire knew how dangerous this was for FDR, he had not other options. Sometimes the best medical care creates addiction.