Julius Caesar…Coolidge and Family

March 15, 2014March 16, 2014 / gouverneurmorris / Leave a comment

Julius Caesar...Coolidge and Family

In observance of the Ides of March, here is an old offering from the Coolidge family album: a photo of Julius Caesar Coolidge (far left) as a boy, the President’s uncle, taken with his family: father, Calvin Galusha; mother, Almeda Brewer; and brother, John Calvin (far right). While Calvin Coolidge never met Julius, who died two years before the future President was born, he experienced much the same mixture of joy and sorrow, play and hard work of which Calvin later summarized from his own experience:

“It would be hard to imagine better surroundings for the development of a boy than those which I had. While a wider breadth of training and knowledge could have been presented to me, there was a daily contact with many new ideas, and the mind was given sufficient opportunity thoroughly to digest all that came to it. Country life does not always have breadth, but it has depth. It is neither artificial nor superficial, but is kept close to the realities” (The Autobiography, p.33).

Like many families of the early nineteenth century, the courageous deeds of heroes from antiquity intermixed with the unshakeable convictions of religious heroes from the Reformation and Great Awakening to be perpetuated in the choice of names for babies born to those early pioneers of Vermont and beyond. What better way to evoke great things for new lives than to name one for the brave conqueror and another for the stalwart reformer?

Continuing in the Steps of Calvin Coolidge

March 14, 2014March 15, 2014 / gouverneurmorris / Leave a comment

Roads had begun filling for miles around since that morning. Keeping in mind that roads then were not what they are now, which, at that time were principally gravel and dirt trails. Some seventy-five thousand people descended on the area that February 1, 1929, to attend the dedication. Whole towns ran out of food and gas and traffic came to a standstill.

The parking lots on Dedication Day, February 1, 1929

Driving in as close as possible, families trudged through the mud with what food and water they could carry to see Edward Bok’s Singing Tower and hear the bells firsthand. They were especially drawn to this dedication because the President — Calvin Coolidge — would be there to speak. It was going to be one of his last major Presidential addresses as he would be leaving office in just over a month.

Masterful carillonneur Anton Brees sitting at the 60-bell carillon in the Tower.

The Great Bell, the largest of sixty bells housed in Bok Tower from a picture taken in 1928 in England, where it was cast to be transported across the Atlantic and over rails to its place as the centerpiece of Bok's musical assembly.

The Great Bell, the largest of sixty bells housed in Bok Tower from a picture taken in 1928 in England, where it was originally cast to be transported across the Atlantic and over rails to its place as the centerpiece of Bok’s musical assembly.

The President and Mrs. Coolidge arrived for their first visit to Florida on an Atlantic Coast Railway special out of Washington. Deboarding from the Mountain Lake Station in Lake Wales, they would be escorted the short drive around Mountain Lake to the Tower grounds that afternoon. The Coolidges took their seats in the temporary pine platform specially put up for the dedication on the Tower’s south side and listened as carillonneur Anton Brees played “America” inside the Tower and the six hundred voices of the United Singing Societies of Polk County performed “The Glory of God in Nature” and “Hallelujah” from Handel’s Messiah. Introduced by Mr. Bok, creator of the Tower and its lush gardens, President Coolidge took to the podium to dedicate what the site meant to America and all who were there that day.

The United Singing Societies of Polk County, positioned opposite of the President and platform, on the south side of the Tower, February 1, 1929.

The United Singing Societies of Polk County, positioned opposite of the President, February 1, 1929.

The bells, played by Anton Brees, would resume as they chimed out “Onward, Christian Soldier” and other music to the silent amazement of all those present. The largest silk flag in the South up to that time, would be raised near the pinnacle of the Tower as a completion of the day’s events and the President and Mrs. Coolidge would be led around to see more of the grounds and the inside of the Tower. Grace Coolidge would even plant a palm tree beside the trail leading up to the Tower. Mistakenly attributed to the President, it was the First Lady who did the honors. It remains quietly standing there beside the creek with a weathered plaque to commemorate the 1929 dedication. Coolidge would even reappear from the lower balconies on the south and west so that he could be better seen by those who had come so far.

Cover of the Dedication Program printed for the event, February 1, 1929.

He likely remembered on this occasion the first time he saw a President, when as a teenager he heard Benjamin Harrison address the crowds at Bennington, Vermont. “As I looked on him and realized that he personally represented the glory and dignity of the United States I wondered how it felt to bear so much responsibility and little thought I should ever know” (The Autobiography, p.52). He always made a point of making himself accessible to young people in order to inspire them with a sense of both personal potential and faith in our republican system of government. The President was not some distant, aloof ruler but one of them. Coolidge recognized that any one of those youngsters might themselves be inspired to take up public service as President some day.

Invited to Mr. and Mrs. Bok’s home for that evening’s supper, the Coolidges sat with Governor Carlton and those who served in Florida’s state government at the time. The President and First Lady then boarded the train and returned to Washington that night. The words dedicating this Tower can be found today carved into the coquina and marble below the sundial. It is a fitting tribute not only to the majestic beauty of the site but also to the vision of men like Edward Bok and Calvin Coolidge to imagine great things, put them into being and call us to reflect on God’s work both around and in us.

These orange groves met us on the way to Bok Tower. It reminds us of the drive through the oranges on Dedication Day told by Horace Herndon.

The carillon played by Anton Brees at the Dedication by President Coolidge

The Golden Door on the north side of the Tower, depicting the Creation and Fall of Man. Mr. Bok’s grave lies at the foot of the stairs, surrounded by white flowers.

Entrance to Pinewood Estate across from Bok Tower through the Gardens.

“Caught ’em myself!”

March 9, 2014February 2, 2017 / gouverneurmorris / Leave a comment

When it became known that President Coolidge would be spending three weeks in the Black Hills of South Dakota during the summer of 1927, a plot was “hatched” by Governor Bulow and Cal’s future hosts to devise a means of diversion and entertainment for the President away from the hustle and pressures of the Office. It had to be something capitalizing on the natural grandeur and beauty of the outdoors. It would carry the additional advantage of attracting sportsmen to the state if President Coolidge could really enjoy his stay. How could they ensure such results?

The hatcheries of Spearfish provided some 2,000 answers. Fat, unsuspecting trout, farm-raised on liver and horsemeat, would soon find themselves being driven the 80 miles south from the Northern hills to Squaw Creek, running conveniently right beside the State Game Lodge, the very place the Coolidges were to stay. Not released all at once, stealth deliveries would rumble down the old bootlegging trails along the creek putting in unwitting replacements every fourth night, Rex Smith records (The Carving of Mount Rushmore p.145-147). This would go on not for a mere three weeks, but a stay that turned into three months as the Coolidges came to thoroughly love South Dakota and her people and they the President and his wife.

President Coolidge fishing on Squaw Creek, June 16, 1927

Having loaded the stream with more trout than ever naturally inhabited those waters, it guaranteed that Coolidge would catch something! Nature seemed ready to thwart their plans, though, when a hard rain fell that first week, washing mud into the stream. No fish with any sense of prolonging its life would venture out to feed when it could not see what was above the water. These pampered fish, however, were too hungry to let so little a thing as impossible visibility get in the way of one easy meal after another being cast in their midst. Coolidge, having been persuaded to give fishing a try on his second day, geared up and with rod, bait and basket cast a line out. In a matter of minutes, he had hauled in five keepers!

Mr. Coolidge showing what he caught to Grace as the collies watch eagerly out of the shot.

Fascinated, but still skeptical, he brought his cache back to the Lodge and showed them to Grace. Encouraged to continue, he went back that evening and snagged still more huge trout. He came back “pleased,” as Mrs. Coolidge reported, “as a boy with his first pair of red-topped boots,” proudly displaying to “Mammy” these latest fruits of but their first week in South Dakota. He was “hooked” from then onward. He would develop into a fly fisherman of ability on the Brule River in Wisconsin the following summer. Yet, it all began with this small scheme to lure the fisherman out of Mr. Coolidge that hectic, historic June of 1927. After leaving the White House, he would continue developing his new fascination along the rivers and lakes of Connecticut and near the Homestead in Vermont. He would even plan a cross-country fishing trip with his old friend, Colonel Starling. Though the trip never happened, he would usually fall back on the old rod and worm that first worked so well at Squaw Creek.

The President fishing next to the Cabin on the Brule River, Wisconsin, summer of 1928

The President fishing at the game refuge of his friend, Senator George P. McLean, Simsbury, Connecticut. Thanks go out to reader Mr. Kevin Gallagher for providing the corrected background info on this snapshot.

Enthused by so successful a catch, he had the trout served at dinner the next evening. At the head of his party would be none other than Governor Bulow, who, unbeknownst to his Presidential guest, had helped make this bounty possible. The Governor, not relishing the pervasive taste of liver awaiting him in that meat, looked down at the fish on his plate that night and whispered, “Seems to me I’ve seen you before.” The President hearing something, asked, “What did you say, Governor?”