Margaret Truman Read online

  President Nixon strolled down to the press tent that had been set up on the South Lawn and informed the reporters that the Nixons had advised their daughter to play it safe and move indoors. Tricia had refused. “I want a Rose Garden wedding,” she insisted.

  According to the meteorologists, who must have been dreading the president’s wrath if they got it wrong, the rain would not last very long. Based on that information, the ceremony was postponed to 4:30. Miraculously, the rain stopped and the wedding began. Tricia and Ed had barely become Mr. and Mrs. Cox when the rain resumed. Everyone fled indoors where there were plenty of refreshments including three kinds of champagne, all domestic.

  In addition to the weather, Tricia’s wedding produced two other causes for anxiety. Her father was so nervous about dancing in public that he asked the press corps to send in some sympathetic reporters—“people who know nothing about dancing”—when it was time for the obligatory dances. Although he looked nervous, the president performed no worse than any other father of the bride.

  The second source of anxiety was the 355-pound, seven-foot-high wedding cake. The recipe had been published in advance and several well-known food writers had tried to duplicate it without success. One attempt resulted in something that looked and tasted like baked sludge. The actual product proved to be edible as well as beautiful.

  Around seven o’clock, the couple, still in their wedding clothes, departed to the music of a small combo playing “Toot, Toot, Tootsie, Good-bye.” Unlike previous White House newlyweds, there was no attempt at a stealthy exit. Their black limousine was parked at the North Portico and their destination was later revealed to be a private hideaway with security provided by the Secret Service—Camp David.

  X

  There is no question that White House weddings are special. The setting is unique and the White House staff are experts at providing the very best in food, music, flowers, and gracious service. A White House bride is not only a star on her wedding day, she can claim a place in the history of the nation’s most famous house.

  Do I regret not having been married at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue? Not in the least. I wasn’t ready to get married when Dad was in the White House. For one thing, I was determined to have a career as a concert singer. For another, even more important, I hadn’t met the right man. When I finally achieved both those goals, I was more than happy to be far away from Washington. My wedding took place at Trinity Episcopal Church in Independence, Missouri, where my parents had been married in 1919. The reception, too, was the same place theirs had been—219 North Delaware Street, my mother’s, and later my own, childhood home. It suited me just fine.

  Questions for Discussion

  What are the advantages of getting married in the White House?

  Are there any drawbacks to having a White House wedding?

  Should the media be allowed to cover the event?

  There have been more dogs than presidents in the White House, but Fala, picturedhere with his master, is without question the most famous. Credit: Franklin D. Roosevelt Library

  12

  Talking Dogs and Other Unnatural Curiosities

  PRESIDENT JOHN F. KENNEDY’S press secretary, Pierre Salinger, was awakened one morning at three A.M. by a call from White House reporter Helen Thomas.

  “I wouldn’t call you at an ungodly hour like this, Pierre, if it weren’t important,” she said. “But we have a report that one of Caroline’s hamsters has died. Would you check it out for me?”

  The hamster was indeed dead—drowned in the president’s bathtub—but the story wouldn’t have merited even a single line in the press if the rodent hadn’t succumbed in the White House.

  White House pets are, and always have been, big news. Algonquin, the calico pony that belonged to Theodore Roosevelt’s son Archie, was constantly being written up in the papers. Warren G. Harding’s Airedale, Laddie Boy, had his picture taken almost as often as his master. When Lyndon Johnson mistreated one of his beagles by picking him up by the ears, the story made headlines around the world.

  In most cases, presidents don’t mind being upstaged by their pets. If they did, you can be sure the creatures would be out of sight when the press showed up. John F. Kennedy gave orders for the White House kennel keeper to have one or two of the family dogs rush to greet him whenever he returned from a trip. Maybe it was a publicity stunt. Maybe he really missed them. Whatever the explanation, it provided great photo ops.

  JFK was not the first president to note that a pet can do wonders for a politician’s image. When Herbert Hoover was running for president in 1928, one of his campaign managers circulated a picture of Hoover smiling warmly as he held the front paws of his German shepherd, King Tut. The picture helped dispel Hoover’s dour image and made him look more like the compassionate man he truly was.

  A pet can also come in handy when a president wants to divert attention from sticky issues. Franklin D. Roosevelt, who hated personal confrontations, often used his Scottish terrier, Fala, to avoid them. Once, when FDR had an appointment with a government official who was planning to tell him something he didn’t want to hear, the president made sure that Fala was ushered into the Oval Office at the same time.

  Before the man could get down to business, FDR took a ball from his desk drawer and began showing him some of Fala’s tricks. Then Fala had an accident on the rug and by the time the puddle was mopped up, the president’s next appointment was announced. The man left without ever getting a chance to speak his piece.

  II

  Dogs are not the only pets that have lived in the White House, but somehow they always get the most press coverage. Perhaps it’s because they’re more photogenic than the competition, which has included goats, birds, snakes, lizards, rats, and raccoons. I also think dogs have a talent for getting attention.

  I’ll never forget my one and only dog, an Irish setter puppy named Mike, that was given to me by one of my father’s cabinet members not long after we moved into the White House. Talk about getting attention! One of Mike’s favorite habits was bounding into my lap whenever I sat down. I simply could not convince him that long and lanky Irish setters were not cut out to be lapdogs.

  Mike once leaped into a pool in the White House garden and my mother’s secretary jumped in to rescue him. Knowing very little about dogs, she didn’t realize that setters are good swimmers. She emerged from the pool dripping wet and hopping mad. Mike, of course, loved every minute of it.

  Mike was a model of good behavior compared to some of the dogs that have lived in the White House. Dwight Eisenhower’s Weimaraner, Heidi, left endless stains on the White House rugs and also had a bad habit of leaping up in front of Mamie whenever a photographer tried to take her picture.

  I don’t know what crimes Ulysses S. Grant’s son Jesse’s dogs committed, but several of them died suddenly and under mysterious circumstances. I suspect they were executed for some malfeasance by a member of the White House staff. President Grant thought so, too. After several unsuccessful attempts at dog-owning, Jesse was presented with a fine Newfoundland. His father promptly called the White House steward into his office. Without mentioning the string of unexplained deaths, Grant said, “Jesse has a new dog. You may have noticed that his former pets have been peculiarly unfortunate. When this dog dies, every employee in the White House will at once be discharged.”

  The dog, Faithful, lived to a ripe old age.

  III

  Many presidential families already owned pets that they brought with them when they moved to the White House. But no matter how many pets they had, people inevitably gave them a few more.

  When President Kennedy attended a summit meeting in Vienna with Russian premier Nikita Khrushchev, it was not a particularly cordial encounter. But Khrushchev was charmed by Jacqueline Kennedy and later sent her a large collection of gifts, including a fluffy white mongrel named Pushinka for Caroline. Despite her questionable bloodlines, Pushinka had an illustrious background. She was the daughter of Strelka
, the dog the Russians had sent on one of their early space missions.

  At that time, the United States and the Soviet Union were in the midst of the Cold War, so the Secret Service was understandably suspicious of Pushinka. For all anyone knew, she might have an electronic bug implanted in her tail. Before the dog could be admitted to the White House, she had to undergo a security check. Fortunately, she turned out to be clean.

  In 1855, Commodore Matthew C. Perry returned from his historic voyage to Japan, a trip that opened that country to trade with the West. Perry brought back several crates full of gifts for President Franklin Pierce, including Japanese silks, porcelains, and fans. The gift that appealed to the president most was a collection of seven tiny canines that were known in Asia as “sleeve dogs.”

  Pierce kept one of the dogs at the White House. The others were given to friends, including Secretary of War Jefferson Davis, who was so delighted with the creature that he carried him around in his pocket.

  Most probably the dogs were Japanese spaniels or chin chins, now known as Japanese chins. They lived in the Imperial Palace and were often given to important foreign visitors. The name “sleeve dog” comes from the fact that they could be carried in the sleeve of a kimono.

  IV

  There have been quite a few cats in the White House, but most of them have kept a low profile. Cats are much too cool to curry favor with the press. They are also experts at hiding under beds or curling up in closets to avoid being interviewed. But if they want attention, they know exactly how to get it.

  Theodore Roosevelt’s family had two cats, Slippers and Tom Quartz. Slippers had a habit of wandering off but the White House staff noticed that he invariably reappeared when an important dinner was scheduled. The dinners always included a fish course and he was probably thinking of the leftovers.

  Calvin Coolidge’s pet collection included a pair of cats named Tiger and Blacky. Tiger was an alley cat who came wandering in from Pennsylvania Avenue one day and decided to stay. Blacky, whose ancestry was equally undistinguished, was sent to the president by a nurse in Massachusetts because she didn’t have room for him.

  Blacky was a hunter and was such a menace to the squirrels, birds, and rabbits that inhabit the President’s Park that he had to be kept in the guardhouse by the front gate in the spring and summer when the wildlife was out in force.

  When he was not playing serial killer on the South Lawn, Blacky’s favorite pastime was riding in the White House elevator. He would sit and wait for someone to open the door for him, then he would hop onto the seat and ride up and down for hours, obviously gathering his strength for another run at the wildlife.

  When nine-year-old Amy Carter moved into the White House in 1977, she brought along her Siamese cat, Misty Malarky Ying Yang. The cat seemed to know her place. Aside from posing for a few photos, she tended to shun the limelight, but as it turned out, she was simply waiting for the right moment to dazzle the public with her charms.

  The moment came when Amy’s parents, Rosalynn and Jimmy Carter, held their first state dinner for President and Mrs. José López-Portillo of Mexico. The Carters welcomed the López-Portillos at the North Portico and escorted them to the second floor for a private visit. After half an hour or so, it was time to go downstairs and greet the other guests.

  With the Color Team preceding them, the Marine Band playing, and their guests waiting expectantly at the bottom of the Grand Staircase, the Carters looked down and saw that Misty Malarky had appeared from nowhere and was padding down the stairs in front of them.

  The next White House cat of note was Socks Clinton, who arrived in 1993. Socks is a real rags to riches story. The Clintons picked him up as a stray in Arkansas and gave him a home in the Governor’s Mansion in Little Rock. A few years later, he had taken another leap forward and was living in the White House.

  For the first few years, it was a dream existence. Socks whiled away his days napping in the sunshine on the South Lawn or poking through the papers on the president’s secretary’s desk. He also became an instant celebrity and was inundated with fan letters, all of which he dutifully answered, signing his responses with a paw print.

  Then in 1997, Socks’s carefree life was disrupted. The Clintons adopted a chocolate Labrador retriever named Buddy. Not only did Socks drop to second place in the White House pet standings, but he had to put up with all sorts of barking and growling from his replacement.

  Cat and dog fights can be contained in the White House, where there’s plenty of room and more than enough help to keep them from getting out of hand. But the Clintons knew it would be impossible to deal with the situation after they left 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. They decided to take Buddy with them and give Socks to Clinton’s secretary, Betty Currie, whose White House desk had long been one of his favorite haunts.

  The latest White House cat in residence, Willie, has been a member of the Bush family for over ten years, but she has never tried to capitalize on the relationship. On the contrary, she keeps such a low profile that most people don’t even know she exists, which doesn’t bother Willie in the slightest. Willie spends most of her time hiding from her owners, napping under one of their beds, or munching on tuna-flavored kitty treats.

  V

  During the Kennedy administration there were always at least a dozen exotic pets in residence, including lambs, guinea pigs, hamsters, birds, and rabbits. Among the pets in the Kennedys’ private menagerie was Caroline Kennedy’s pony, Macaroni, who divided his time between his stable at the White House and the Kennedy home in Virginia. When he was in Washington, he roamed freely around the White House grounds. One day Macaroni wandered over to the West Wing and stood staring into one of the tall windows in the Oval Office. President Kennedy stared back. After a few minutes, he went over, opened the door, and motioned to Macaroni to come in. The pony thought about it for a few minutes, then turned around and ambled off.

  Macaroni missed his chance to become the first pony in history to visit the Oval Office. He may have considered this only a minor accomplishment in view of the fact that another pony had gotten as far as the second-floor living quarters.

  When nine-year-old Archie Roosevelt was stricken with both measles and whooping cough, his younger brother, Quentin, decided that a visit from his pony, Algonquin, would cheer him up. Quentin persuaded one of the White House footmen to help him coax the 350-pound animal into the White House elevator. Algonquin was jittery about the venture until he became absorbed in studying himself in the elevator mirror and gave the footman a chance to press the button. The invalid was so happy to see Algonquin trotting into his bedroom that he immediately began to recover.

  Abraham and Mary Lincoln’s two younger sons, Willie and Tad, had their own ponies, which they rode around the grounds under the watchful eye of a White House messenger. When Willie died of typhoid fever, Tad lost all interest in his pony. The animal was replaced in his affections by a pair of goats. Strange as it may seem today, goats were popular pets in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. They were known for being gentle and good-natured and they could be hitched to small carts to give children a safe ride.

  When they weren’t busy pulling Tad around in his cart, Nanny and Nanko made a beeline for the White House flower beds, destroying the plants and driving the gardener into a frenzy. The only solution was to keep them in the stables. Nanko was the better behaved of the pair and when he was put in the stables, he stayed there. Nanny, however, always managed to get out and, of course, headed straight for the garden.

  To keep the goat from causing too much destruction, the president had her brought into the White House, but instead of staying docilely in the basement, she wandered upstairs and curled up on Tad’s bed. The housekeeper shooed her outside where she attacked the flower beds once again. That was her last foray. The next day Nanny disappeared. Somehow I don’t think it was a coincidence.

  Among the other White House children who had goats to pull them around were President Rutherford B.
Hayes’s youngest son, Scott, and Benjamin Harrison’s grandson, Ben Mc-Kee. Ben’s goat, His Whiskers, could often be seen on the front lawn of the White House with the little boy in tow.

  One day, as President Harrison was standing on the North Portico, about to leave for an appointment, His Whiskers abruptly shifted into high gear and went tearing down Pennsylvania Avenue with Ben and his cart bouncing along behind him. The president, in his frock coat and high silk hat, took off after them, waving his cane and calling for His Whiskers to stop.

  The goat finally slowed down and Harrison was able to grab him by his harness. Instead of finding his grandson screaming in fright, as the president had expected, Ben was fine. He told his grandfather that the ride had been great fun.

  VI

  Among the various animals that were sent to the White House during the Coolidge administration was a raccoon. It was intended to be the main course at Thanksgiving dinner, but Coolidge, a traditionalist, decided to stick with turkey. He took a liking to the raccoon and decided to keep her as a pet. He christened her Rebecca, installed her in a pen near the Oval Office, and gave her a steady diet of her favorite foods, shrimp and persimmons.

  When Coolidge let Rebecca out of her pen, she would follow him around the White House, causing quite a stir among visitors, who thought there was a wild animal loose on the premises. They weren’t entirely mistaken. Rebecca could be pretty wild when she wanted to be. Since raccoons have forepaws shaped like tiny hands, they are amazingly dexterous and can get into all sorts of mischief. Rebecca could unscrew lightbulbs, open cabinet doors, and unpot palms.