On This Day, Thoughts of FDR
As is sometimes the case, I will digress from the world of the arts in order to project some thoughts connected with this day.
On April 12, 1945, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt died suddenly in Warm Springs, Georgia.
I remember, as a kid, strolling home from my piano lesson, just having left my beloved professor Jerome Diamond of Eastman (I shall write about him soon), musing over the wonderful advice he had given me, when as I passed by a small grocery store, one of my school friends who was working there stuck his head out of the door and exclaimed that FDR had just died.
Even though I was very young then, I had followed Roosevelt's career and notoriety very closely, and even then knew of the power of command this man held, being the Commander-in-Chief of history's most powerful democracy on the verge of defeating Hitlerism in the West.
What followed during the next few days were countless pictures of the grief exhibited by millions of Americans, including so many blacks living in a still segregated culture. The personal power this man represented has not been equaled since those times.
There was fear in this country; fear of the possibility that America would falter in its mission, due to the immense hole formed by the death of Roosevelt. Conversely, when Propaganda Minister of Nazi Germany, Dr. Josef Goebbels, heard of the death of FDR, he rushed into Hitler's office in an exultant mood, stating that Fate now has been turned against the democratic powers, and that Germany indeed would emerge as ultimate victors. Both he and Hitler were ecstatic - imagine! This occurred just 18 days before Hitler committed suicide in his bunker. This event demonstrates the fear the Nazi held for Roosevelt, let alone the hatred.
Funny; both Roosevelt and Hitler came to power within weeks of one another, in January of 1933. And both died within weeks of one another in April of 1945.
Funny; one of our tunes during Roosevelt's early reconstruction days was "Happy Days Are Here Again" - and the Germans were singing the same tune at the same time in their native German.
Funny; how Roosevelt and Hitler both came into power with the same intent; that is, to reconstruct their respective cultures.
How chilling it is to contemplate the lurid clarity of the difference in their methodology.
I have pictures of Roosevelt sitting with the Boy Scouts, and eating the same meal the boys were eating - I also have photos of Hitler doing the very same thing with his Hitler Youth.
I am disappointed to have noticed today that I see veritably nothing on TV to take note of this day, April 12, the death of, arguably, the most powerful American president since Lincoln. Perhaps, as this day moves on, some notable presidential historian such as Doris Goodwin or Michael Beschloss will appear on some program to project the importance of this date.
May I hasten to add that I lean in no particular direction politically in writing about this man. I merely am writing about an example of how events make the man, not necessarily the other way around.
On April 12, 1945, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt died suddenly in Warm Springs, Georgia.
I remember, as a kid, strolling home from my piano lesson, just having left my beloved professor Jerome Diamond of Eastman (I shall write about him soon), musing over the wonderful advice he had given me, when as I passed by a small grocery store, one of my school friends who was working there stuck his head out of the door and exclaimed that FDR had just died.
Even though I was very young then, I had followed Roosevelt's career and notoriety very closely, and even then knew of the power of command this man held, being the Commander-in-Chief of history's most powerful democracy on the verge of defeating Hitlerism in the West.
What followed during the next few days were countless pictures of the grief exhibited by millions of Americans, including so many blacks living in a still segregated culture. The personal power this man represented has not been equaled since those times.
There was fear in this country; fear of the possibility that America would falter in its mission, due to the immense hole formed by the death of Roosevelt. Conversely, when Propaganda Minister of Nazi Germany, Dr. Josef Goebbels, heard of the death of FDR, he rushed into Hitler's office in an exultant mood, stating that Fate now has been turned against the democratic powers, and that Germany indeed would emerge as ultimate victors. Both he and Hitler were ecstatic - imagine! This occurred just 18 days before Hitler committed suicide in his bunker. This event demonstrates the fear the Nazi held for Roosevelt, let alone the hatred.
Funny; both Roosevelt and Hitler came to power within weeks of one another, in January of 1933. And both died within weeks of one another in April of 1945.
Funny; one of our tunes during Roosevelt's early reconstruction days was "Happy Days Are Here Again" - and the Germans were singing the same tune at the same time in their native German.
Funny; how Roosevelt and Hitler both came into power with the same intent; that is, to reconstruct their respective cultures.
How chilling it is to contemplate the lurid clarity of the difference in their methodology.
I have pictures of Roosevelt sitting with the Boy Scouts, and eating the same meal the boys were eating - I also have photos of Hitler doing the very same thing with his Hitler Youth.
I am disappointed to have noticed today that I see veritably nothing on TV to take note of this day, April 12, the death of, arguably, the most powerful American president since Lincoln. Perhaps, as this day moves on, some notable presidential historian such as Doris Goodwin or Michael Beschloss will appear on some program to project the importance of this date.
May I hasten to add that I lean in no particular direction politically in writing about this man. I merely am writing about an example of how events make the man, not necessarily the other way around.
posted by LH at
6:46 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home