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- <text>
- <title>
- (Roosevelt) Afternoon On Pine Mountain
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--FDR Portrait
- </history>
- <link 00101><article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- April 23, 1945
- Afternoon on Pine Mountain
- </hdr>
- <body>
- <p> Bad weather had held up the plane which brought the
- President's daily mail from Washington, so it was late that
- morning before Mr. Roosevelt got down to work. His secretary
- suggested that he might want to have lunch first, but the
- President said no; he had a busy afternoon ahead, he would start
- right in.
- </p>
- <p> He sat beside the fireplace in the cozy, cluttered living
- room of the cottage at Warm Springs--the Little White House--while
- his secretary, stooped, lanky William Hassett, helped him
- sort through the mail. At one end of the room his cousins Laura
- Delano and Margaret Suckley sat chatting. The warm Georgia sun
- climbed over Pine Mountain. It was April 12.
- </p>
- <p> There were a lot of things to sign--several State
- Department nominations, some postmasters' appointments, some
- citations for the Legion of Merit, the bill to extend the life of
- the Commodity Credit Corp. When he got to the bill, Franklin
- Roosevelt grinned at Bill Hassett, spoke the words that always
- made his secretary smile back: "Here's where I make a law."
- </p>
- <p> Mrs. Elizabeth Shoumatoff, a portrait painter, came in. She
- had once done a portrait of Franklin Roosevelt and now was
- anxious to do another. She had driven down from her Long Island
- home several days before and had been making sketches. Hassett
- gingerly collected the papers, letting the President's signatures
- dry. "Don't mind me," Hassett remarked. "I'm waiting for my
- laundry to dry."
- </p>
- <p> The President laughed. Mrs. Shoumatoff remembered
- afterwards: "He was so gay."
- </p>
- <p> Mr. Hassett left, leaving a stack of state papers within
- easy reach of the President's chair. The artist sketched while
- Miss Suckley crocheted. The President unconcernedly shuffled his
- papers.
- </p>
- <p> Good Brunswick Stew. He felt better. Utter weariness had
- kept him close to the cottage ever since he had arrived in Warm
- Springs, a little less than two weeks ago. He had seen few
- people. A week before, he had received President Sergio Osmena of
- the Philippines, and had told Osmena that he hoped the
- commonwealth might soon achieve its independence. He had looked
- drawn beneath his tan then.
- </p>
- <p> But this afternoon he was going to a barbecue. He had told
- his friend Jess Long, Georgia peach grower, to "make some of that
- good Brunswick stew of yours." In the evening, the polio patients
- at his beloved Warm Springs Foundation were going to give a
- minstrel show for him. He was looking forward to both affairs.
- </p>
- <p> Miss Suckley glanced his way. He had suddenly slumped
- sideways in his chair and, alarmed, she ran across the room to
- him. She heard him mutter: "I have a terrific headache." The
- women stood aghast at what they saw. The President fainted.
- </p>
- <p> They called his Negro valet. Big Arthur Prettyman, veteran
- of 20 years in the Navy, was accustomed to helping the crippled
- President around. With the help of "Joe," a Filipino mess boy, he
- lifted the unconscious man in his arms and carried him into the
- bedroom.
- </p>
- <p> The Fiddlers Wait. There, in the small, plain room with its
- paneled walls and scatter rugs and the picture of a ship and a
- ticking brass chronometer, doctors found the stricken President.
- They untied his tie, took off his grey suit and put pajamas on
- him. They were Commander Howard Bruenn, a heart specialist of the
- Navy Surgeon General's staff, who had been detailed to the
- President 15 months ago, Lieut. Commander George Fox, White House
- medical aide, Dr. James Paullin of Atlanta, who had been called
- in. But there was little they or anyone else could do. He had
- suffered a massive cerebral hemorrhage. They could only wait and
- pray. It would not be long.
- </p>
- <p> Up at the hilltop home of Mayor Fred Allcorn, half a hundred
- other people also waited--for the President to come to the
- barbecue. Jess Long had made the Brunswick stew. Fiddlers from
- the neighborhood tuned their violins.
- </p>
- <p> At the foot of Pine Mountain, in the Foundations' playhouse,
- children in wheelchairs were busily rehearsing the show which
- they were going to put on that evening for their devoted "Rosy."
- Excitement was high. Rosy himself had suggested "The Polio
- Minstrel Show."
- </p>
- <p> The shadows of the pines grew longer. In the bedroom of the
- Little White House one of the physicians looked at the time. It
- was 3:35 (C.W.T.). Death, at that moment, had come to Franklin
- Delano Roosevelt.
- </p>
-
- </body>
- </article>
- </text>
-