"When you reach
the end of your rope, tie a knot in it."
Franklin
Roosevelt was a man's man, but you wouldn't have known it the way some people
talked about him. When he was a young man, an acid-tongued cousin called him
"Miss Nancy," implying that he was gay. When he was at Harvard, the
F.D. in F.D.R. stood for "Feather Duster." Other students thought he
was a glad-hander and a lightweight—a phony who cared more about looks than
anything else.
No question
about it, he was one handsome guy. All his life, he had a great head of hair, a
brilliant smile, and that famous jaunty jutting chin. But try and tell
President Wilson that FDR was just another pretty face. He invited Roosevelt to
serve as Assistant Secretary of the Navy for eight years—and that included
during World War I.
In the
summer of 1921 with the Republican Harding in the White House, Roosevelt was 39
and in peak condition. When he wasn't thinking about running for governor of
New York, this a strapping six-foot one-inch tall man led an incredibly
athletic life. Golf, tennis, field hockey, baseball, chopping wood, sledding,
sailing—you name the activity, and FDR loved it.
The Worst "Heat-Craze"
And he
loved the Boy Scouts, so much so that chaired a local Scout council. In the
midst of the worst "heat-craze" in years, he sailed his yacht up the
Hudson River to Bear Mountain State Park where 2,100 scouts had convened.
FDR and
Scouts weren't the only thing on the move. So was the polio virus. It loves hot
weather and unsanitary conditions. The disease is contracted when the virus
enters a person's mouth. No one knows he contracted polio, but while at the camp, perhaps FDR shared
a cup with an infected Scout or touched a dirty faucet.
After leaving
the jamboree, he took his yacht to his family's estate on Campobello Island off
the Maine coast in New Brunswick, Canada. Upon arriving, he took a dip in the
frigid ocean. He said he didn't feel "the glow" he'd expected from
that brisk swim. He was too tired to dress himself. He skipped dinner.
The next
morning he awoke to "stabbing pains" in his legs. The day after that he
could barely stand. He could not hold a pencil. At bedtime, he could not stand.
The Terrible Diagnosis
Roosevelt
was no stranger to illness. He had weathered typhoid fever, scarlet fever, the
deadly Spanish flu, tonsillitis, mumps, and the measles. Because of his remote
location, it took more than 10 days for the terrible diagnosis to be made. By
that time, he had to be spoon fed. He could not sit up. Doctors ordered him to
lie in bed for 23 hours a day. For weeks on end.
The press
was told his malady was a "slight" case of infantile paralysis and
that he was making a "very rapid and very complete recovery" and would
soon be walking. It was unthinkable to tell the public the truth. People
associated polio with the 'dirty' children of immigrants living in squalid slums. Few employers—much less voters—would trust a hopeless "cripple"
with any job, much less that of governor.
Yet over
the months to come, FDR's indomitable will and good cheer convinced family,
friends, and voters that he was up to any task. When things looked the worst,
he told a golfing buddy, he'd soon be teeing up. "I appear to have
inspired the doctors," he told a banker.
It took FDR
five long years of physical rehabilitation and soul-searching to accept what
had befallen him, according to one biographer. He learned to forget that he was
a 'cripple.' He legs might have been useless, but he told himself that who he
really was—his soul—was robust—and definitely most useful.
Once he
stilled his own fears, he realized he could be as active and successful as the
next man. In 1928 he charmed the voters of New York into electing him governor.
He knew he had nothing to fear—just fear itself.
Conquer that, and you can conquer any foe.
Conquer that, and you can conquer any foe.
+++
(It's worth noting that in recent years some medical
researchers have speculated that FDR may instead have contracted Guillain-Barre
Syndrome whose symptoms are similar; his treatment at the time, however, would
have been much the same, given the state of medical knowledge then.)
MORAL: Face reality.
Find the good in it.
Find the good in it.
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