The photo at left is from fourteen years ago. Fall is late in coming to the mountains this year.
Sessions on the Great War in my Osher Lifelong Learning class the past week have coincided with the Ken Burns story on the Roosevelts. I can't help but recall the day FDR drove by my public grade school in Seattle which his granddaughters attended. It was a spring day and he was sitting in the back of his convertible, slowly waving his cigarette and holder at the assembled student body. From my place on the steps I was about six feet away and I'll never forget it. We had practiced vocal tributes for months. We didn't understand why he wouldn't come in and greet us.
Several years ago at a conference in Atlanta, Lee and I took a tour to Warm Springs. FDR's actual crutches were on display in his tiny bedroom there. I gasped when I saw them. They were monstrous and so heavy and ugly. I couldn't hold back my tears.
Is this Ken Burns documentary the best ever, or is it just that I am old enough to have lived through much of the Roosevelt dynasty?