"The Hidden White House" by Robert Klara (2013)

Harry Truman didn’t really believe in ghosts. But he needed some way to express his notice of; and concern for; the condition of the White House he had inherited upon the death of Franklin Roosevelt. It’s no secret that President Roosevelt; faced with 2 very critical events in his time in office; had chosen to neglect the residence during the Great Depression and the years of the Second World War. This was on top of the damage caused by an electrical fire in 1925 while Coolidge was President.

During Truman’s hectic first term in office, which he began upon President Roosevelt’s death in 1945, he first noticed what he termed “ghosts” when writing to his wife in Independence, Missouri where she spent most summers. The floors creaked, the walls seemed to moan; and most disturbingly, the floors seemed to sway beneath your feet.

When the President’s daughter Margaret almost fell through the floor; while practicing piano; it became apparent that some of the original beams were cracking under the weight of a White House which had been altered many times over the years to accommodate modern conveniences, with no regard for the structural integrity required to hold the place up.

The site chosen for the construction of the White House was selected at a time when the science of soil bearings was in its infancy. And the modern conveniences of running water and electric lights were only daydreams. By the time that Truman moved in the house was a literal fire trap.

During the campaign for election in his own right in 1948, the condition of the White House was a closely guarded secret. It was feared that the public would somehow blame it on 16 years of Democratic rule and cost Truman the election.

Mr. Klara documents the major changes in the White House, all of which contributed unintentionally to it’s falling apart by the time that Truman arrived. In 1833 Andrew Jackson added running water; in 1848 President Polk added gaslight; in 1850 President Fillmore added a heavy iron bathtub; in 1853 Franklin Pierce added a furnace for hot water; in 1866 a telegraph was added; in 1879 a telephone system; and in 1891 electric lights joined the parade.

While all of these changes seem minor, they were all done with no regard for the structural integrity of the house. Doors were cut beneath lintels supporting load bearing walls, and beams were hacked and shortened where convenient. During the 1902 reconstruction of the house, and during the addition of the West Wing, shortcuts were taken which left rotted wood in place. This was on top of the fact that some of the original beams, which were burnt when the British set fire to the White House in 1814, had never been replaced, just re-used. In short; the White House needed fixing.

Truman was unable to get anyone to take him seriously at first. The Congress authorized a small amount of money to investigate the stability of the house, but seemed unwilling to commit the resources to save it. At first there were even calls to raze the mansion and build something newer and more efficient in its place. This is where Harry Truman drew the line.

Not only would the White House be rebuilt, but it would be done in such a way that it would never need extensive repairs like these again. After much wrangling it was decided that the only way in which to accomplish this was to gut the entire structure, and then brace it from the inside with a skeleton of steel beams.

Through funding problems and delays, Mr. Klara takes the reader on a tour de force of one of the most fantastic building projects ever undertaken. When the election of 1948 is done, and Truman wins a term in his own right, he comes back to the White House in triumph, only to have to move out within a few days. He would spend most of his next term living at Blair House, where he was almost assassinated by Puerto Rican nationalists.

The book is filled with the stories of the contractors who rebuilt the White House. These men; some big businessmen, some small; all did their best to bring structural integrity to the old house which had served as home to all of our Presidents since John Adams. But for the stubbornness of Harry S. Truman; who stood up to the 80^th Congress; we might not have it today.

Mr. Klara has done a wonderful job in telling the story of how the White House was preserved. Along the way he introduces the reader to many colorful characters and some long forgotten history. Incidentally, the souvenir kits which were offered for sale to the public at the time; for as little as 25 cents for an acrylic paperweight containing a nail and some plaster from the old White House; seem to be all gone. I went looking on e-bay for a photograph to post and found none at all. There were only 5,000 or so made and imagine most have been long forgotten, or thrown away.

Some of the old White House mantels are still in use today and the author has done a superb job of chronicling the fate of all 24 mantels which came from the house. Of those 24, only 6 went back in.

This book is a natural follow up to author Robert Klara’s “FDR Funeral Train” which I reviewed here in April of 2010. That review can be viewed here;

http://robertwilliamsofbrooklyn.blogspot.com/2010/04/fdrs-funeral-train-by-robert-klara.html

And here is the best monument to Harry Truman; the White House as viewed from inside the fence in the 1990's.  Ask me how I took that picture sometime; I might tell you.

Pianos for Patriots

Pianos for Patriots is an organization just recently founded by a crewmember from my old ship the USS Milwaukee. Ed Rothacker, an accomplished pianist himself, is teaching piano, for free, to as many children of deployed service members as he can handle. He then recruits them, and others, to teach another kid for free. He's working with his VFW Post, the USO and Congressman Steve Stivers office. He is also asking for donations of musical instruments from various sources. So far, with limited coverage, they are doing suprisingly well!

Ed has filed for incorporation and 501C3 status this week. The above logo was produced by Rick Isbell who works in The Office of Veterans Affairs for the Mayor, City of Columbus.

Eventually there will be a website where families and teachers can request to participate in the program. There will also be a link for donations of musical instruments, music store gift cards and cash. (This might still be a number of months down the road.)In the meantime, you can e-mail Ed with any ideas, or help, at;

edrothacker@sbcglobal.net or, you can contact him by phone at the following numbers;

614-876-9606 (Home) or at 614-325-8680 (Cell)

Thanks Ed, for spreading the gift of music! It's one of the few things which unite us all.

The Piano

This is the piano my Father bought for my Mom on the last day of December, 1964. The piano was delivered several days later to our apartment in Brooklyn. But there was a problem; it didn't fit in the elevator, and was too unwieldy to make the turns in the stairwell. Clearly, another way would have to be found. At the time, we lived on the second floor of a 7 story apartment building. We lived in the rear, which gave us the advantage of having the roof of the building's underground garage right outside of our windows. This expanse of concrete ran the entire length of the building, which sat between East 13th and 14th Streets on Avenue R. At each end there was a straight stairway which led directly to the street. This was the path our piano would take to its new home.

The piano movers were really at a loss when they found that the piano would not fit in the windows. Summoning John Bucholtz, the building's German, as in ex-Nazi, superintendant, my Dad and he surveyed the situation and came to a quick conclusion; at least one of the windows, would have to come out if the piano were to go in.

Now this was the first week of January, not the best time to rip out a window and frame in order to accomodate a piano, but there was nothing for it, and so the piano movers, my Dad and John removed the window and wedged the piano, minus the legs, inside. Then they all helped in setting it up, where it would remain for the next 22 years, until my Mom had passed away and my Dad was getting remarried. That's when I got the piano. Again, in the first week of January, only this time with snow on the ground from Brooklyn to Baltimore, which is where the piano was headed, as I lived there at the time. I seem to remember taking the legs off and carrying it into the elevator and loading it on the truck. My Uncle Bob was there and I'll have to ask him what he remembers about that day. Here's the funny part; I do not remember having to remove the window to get the piano out of the house.

When I got to Baltimore, via U-Haul, with the piano, there was 1 foot of snow on the ground. It took 5 friends and neighbors to help me wrestle that piano into its new home. From there it was moved again to Hampstead, Md., where it remained for 11 years, until we came to North Carolina in 1998. That time, and each of the 2 times since, we have hired someone to move it.

The piano is still with us. That's my Mom in the picture, moments after the piano was set up and the window closed, smiling like she just got a piano. She used to play and sing Broadway show tunes, and all of the old women would be gathered outside our apartment door, listening. They would always say the same thing, "Oy, she sings like a bird, she should be on stage!" And maybe she should have, at that.

I don't play, which sometimes makes me a bit sad, I view it as a lost opportunity, though I suppose I could still learn. However, I do play guitar a bit instead. My daughter learned to play on this piano, which she will take when she and her husband Michael have more room. Meantime she has a small electric piano that she plays on to keep nimble. It comforts me that this one will be passed on to her.

It may be a bit older now than it was then, and it may need a bit of fine tuning, but then again, don't we all...

Old Barns and Pianos

I saw it first through the trees from the road as we were passing by on our way through Concord. I'm a sucker for old houses, especially ones with barns, and so we stopped to take a look.

Parking the car around the back of the house I was greeted with the sight of this beautiful old barn/horse stall/hayloft. It was twice the size of the house! I went looking for bottles and glassware, old medicine tins and the like, while Sue roamed about in the house. The property is beautiful, 57 acres in all, formerly a farm, destined for either a shopping center or another housing development. Farming doesn't pay well anymore.

But for me this was the surprise which made the whole stop worthwhile; an upright piano on the front porch. Long neglected and beyond repair, it was unique, almost a work of art. Think of it, 80 years or so ago, with radio in it's infancy, and television still just a dream, some family sat around on the screened porch, alongside of a small rural road, and sang along to the piano. Contrast that with sitting in front of the TV, night after night, remote in hand, never satisfied. You know, I think these folks were on to something...