America’s 30th President, Calvin Coolidge, left the White House at the height of personal popularity in a time of peace, relative tranquility and national prosperity. It was a period of entrepreneurial spirit, opportunity, vibrant artistic expression, great music, literature, and theatre. It was the “Roaring Twenties.” Coolidge had refused another term saying: “I do not choose to run for President in 1928.” Had he accepted he would have been president longer than had any other man. He later wrote, “Ten years in the White House is too long.” He stepped aside and the Grand Old Party chose Secretary of Commerce, Herbert Hoover.
Following President Hoover’s rain-soaked March inauguration, the Coolidges took the train from the Union Station home to half of a two-family house in Northampton, Massachusetts. Their rent had gone up. They were a relatively young couple: He was 56 and former First Lady, Grace Goodhue Coolidge, 6 years younger. A cartoon showed Cal as the new member of the Ex-president’s Club playing checkers with the only other member — William Howard Taft.
In retirement, Coolidge rejected job offers that would capitalize on his presidency. Yet — He had to go to work. There was no golden parachute such as today’s executives expect. All the music stopped; you were on your own. Wealthy friends wished to provide him a retirement fund but he turned them down and redirected their $2,000,000 generosity to the Coolidge’s favorite charity: Northampton’s Clarke School for the Deaf where Mrs. Coolidge had been a teacher. Ever and always mindful of economy – Cal bought a used car. It was his presidential Pierce-Arrow but now, he had to hire a chauffeur! Coolidge was our last president to never drive a car – nor to fly in an airplane. Soon, his Autobiography was earning him five dollars a word, subsequent magazine articles and a newspaper column allowed the purchase of a more stately home with a view of the Connecticut River. Now: Nobody could tell him when to shovel his sidewalk and — his doggies had a place to run.
Calvin Coolidge? “Silent Cal” — who was this guy? He was born on the 4th of July in Plymouth, Vermont and he died over 75 years ago. Why did President Reagan choose his portrait for the Cabinet Room? Are there any lessons for us in his administration? I mean: He didn’t do anything did he?
His first biographer said: “The Coolidge story is a great story for it is the only story of its kind.” Essentially, I find it to be a matter of a unique and extraordinary character. While Coolidge was well read, I doubt he read the Tao Te Ching. Yet, in a past life — he might have written it. The ancient Chinese text echoes with the voice of Coolidge. His career path seems the Way of Lao Tzu. He was our least ambitious president who succeeded without striving. Contemporaries called it “Coolidge Luck.” His driving ambition was to please his father. He acknowledges his progenitor in a letter from the White House, “I came to the office very largely through your example. If that was what you wanted you have much to be thankful for that you have lived to so great an age to see it.”
Coolidge arrived in Washington in 1921 as Warren G. Harding’s vice-president. His place on the ticket didn’t emerge from a smoke-filled room but rather from delegates at a runaway convention tired of being manipulated by powerful Senators. He was never his party’s choice; he was not even Massachusetts’ favorite son. The Bay State’s Senior Senator, Henry Cabot Lodge, is on record saying: “No man who lives in a two family house is going to be president. Massachusetts is not for him!”
The spotlight of national attention sought out Coolidge following the Boston Police Strike of 1919 when, as Massachusetts’ Governor, he refused to rehire the police who had left the city unprotected, saying, “There is no right to strike against the public safety by anybody, anytime, anywhere.” He thought his position would mark his political demise; instead, his words made him a presidential contender. Ah, but then – Then: He refused to act like one! Upon learning that campaign headquarters had been opened and money raised in his behalf – Governor Coolidge ordered them closed and the money returned. He didn’t see how he could prosecute a campaign for higher office without bringing disgrace to the one he held.
When 1919 turned into 1920 smart money was on Theodore Roosevelt’s return to the White House. His death six days into the New Year left the Republicans with no obvious candidate for his Bully Pulpit. It was not immediately apparent, but President Wilson’s League of Nations would be a tin can tied to any Democratic tale. In hindsight, we see it was Wilson’s sanctimonious and uncompromising attitude that killed his League while simultaneously illustrating why it wouldn’t work. America has a problem addressing the world with one voice; this is confusing to other nations.
Society in the 1920s underwent a sea change. The “Great War” was over; our soldiers came marching home but they had seen far more than service in Europe, a song asked: “How ya goin’ to keep ‘em down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree?” It was a good question; many of our best artists and writers chose to stay in Paris. The Volstead Act had made Prohibition the law of the land; women voted for the first time. These were wrenching changes. Coolidge had actively supported woman suffrage since his entry into politics. Privately, he considered Prohibition a “bad law” but obeyed it because it was the law. Reports indicate that President Harding ignored Prohibition. Coolidge initially favored some kind of League and always advocated America joining the World Court.
President Harding had promised a return to “Normalcy.” It sounded like a good idea, yet there was much work to be done. The Harding Administration seldom receives the credit it deserves for returning us to a peacetime basis. It was a monumental task. But, as for — “Normalcy?” — Whatever it was, we would never look upon its like again. Liberal scholars have fixated on the scandals of the Harding Era. They seem tame and pedestrian by contemporary standards. Oil. Sex. Money. (Yawn.) Harding assembled an excellent Cabinet with a couple of bad apples. He invited his vice president to attend meetings. Harding often repeated his father’s story: “Warren, we are damned lucky you weren’t born a girl because you’d be in the family way all the time: You can’t say, ‘No!’” Two years later, when it was Coolidge’s turn to sit at the head of the table – He knew how to say, “No.” What Coolidge lacked was any capacity for small talk. At dinner, a lady seated next to him pleaded: “Mr. Coolidge, I’ve made a five dollar bet I can make you say more than two words.” The Vice President replied: “You lose.” He was comfortable with silence.
It was said Coolidge’s favorite day as president would be one where nothing happens. He had the rare ability to just sit there and not do something. While he never drove a car he doubtless knew Henry Ford’s prime directive for the Model-T. “If it runs leave it alone.” That’s how Coolidge governed. To President-Elect Herbert Hoover he offered this advice: “If you see ten troubles coming down the road – Wait. There’s a good chance that nine of them will run off into the ditch and you will have to deal with just one.” The Constitution of the United States was his constant study. He saw it as a “how to” and not as a vexing curb to what he might wish to do. He came to office with no grand scheme. He favored economy in government saying, “After that, I favor more economy.” By the end of the Coolidge Administration the majority of Americans paid no taxes.
Was Coolidge clinically depressed following the death of his 16 year-old son? Of course he was. The loss occurred just after his nomination. While I’m willing to grant that it was a heavy grief and a devastating blow — I’m not persuaded that his subsequent administration was all that much diminished by it. Mrs. Coolidge said, “He seemed to lose his zest for living.” After an interval of mourning – they resumed entertaining at the White House. His presidency did not end with the death of his son. He soldiered on: His twice-weekly press conferences continued. He delivered numerous speeches around the country – all of which he wrote himself. He was endlessly cooperative with news photographers and the innovative sound newsreel.
Thanks to radio — “Silent Cal’s” Vermont-accented voice was heard by more Americans than the combined voices of all previous presidents. He dedicated work-about-to begin on Mount Rushmore in the Black Hills of South Dakota — the last time a President traveled on horseback to deliver an address and the only time Coolidge suggests that taxpayer dollars might be spent on something non-essential. In his dedication he coined the phrase “Shrine of Democracy.” He sent an ambassador to Mexico with a one-sentence directive: “Keep us out of war!” In 1928, with the President onboard, the battleship “Texas” dropped anchor in Havana Harbor in the exact spot where the explosion of the battleship “Maine” was our cue and cause to go to war with Spain in 1898. He is our only president to visit Cuba while in office; he gave the opening address to the Sixth International Conference of American States.
Today, could we use a few days where “nothing happens?”
* This was written a few years ago. I’ve decided to pull a few things off the shelf and put them up on my blog.