Ryan L. Cole: Keeping Cool with Coolidge
On this day, 76 years ago, Calvin Coolidge died at the age of 60. Shortly before his life ended and the presidency of Franklin Roosevelt began, Coolidge reportedly told a friend, "I feel I no longer fit in with these times."
If Coolidge felt out of step in the Era of Roosevelt, he would have been a truly lost soul in the coming Age of Obama.
We are entering a time when the American president is simultaneously the sole arbiter of good and bad in the universe, a fashion plate, a paparazzi-attracting celebrity and a pop art icon. His face graces public transit tickets. Schoolchildren numbly chant his campaign slogans. The notion that a simple and shy New Englander such as Coolidge could ever occupy today's White House is absurd.
Though he was simple by our modern presidential standards, there was nothing simplistic about his life or career. For all his reserve and minimalism, Coolidge was an extremely skilled and ambitious politician. From city solicitor to the state house of representatives, to mayor to the state senate to lieutenant governor and then governor and then vice president and president, he ran for office 19 times and lost only one election in his life.
He was a shrewd manipulator of broadcast radio and the photo-op. Versed in Latin and a student of Cicero, Coolidge wrote his own speeches without the assistance or aid of bright young staffers. Those who have read his autobiography (which he penned after his presidency) are aware of his graceful writing and penchant for moving introspection.
His rearing in rural Vermont imparted in the future president the values of thrift (he never owned a car or even a house until after his presidency), a disdain for his era's version of political celebrity. ("We need more of the Office Desk and less of the Show Window in politics. Let men in office substitute the midnight oil for the limelight," he once said.) And strikingly to us in today's era of the superstar chief executive and the revived hyperactive federal government, Coolidge understood that there are some things the government and its chief executive are not capable of doing. He considered the Constitution a limiting document to be adhered to, not adjusted.
Today, the faithful prepare to flock to the nation's capital to participate in what increasingly seems like a coronation. Simultaneously, train trips are being planned and an ancient bible is being brought out, rather immodestly, to remind us of the supposedly uncanny similarities between Barack Obama and Abraham Lincoln. Before the president-elect takes the oath of office in front a crowd of millions, it is worth remembering Coolidge's own assumption of the presidency. When news of President Warren G. Harding's death reached Plymouth Notch, Vermont, Vice President Coolidge, out of necessity, was administered the oath of office by his father, at the family homestead, using a family bible by the flickering light of an oil lamp....
Read entire article at American Spectator
If Coolidge felt out of step in the Era of Roosevelt, he would have been a truly lost soul in the coming Age of Obama.
We are entering a time when the American president is simultaneously the sole arbiter of good and bad in the universe, a fashion plate, a paparazzi-attracting celebrity and a pop art icon. His face graces public transit tickets. Schoolchildren numbly chant his campaign slogans. The notion that a simple and shy New Englander such as Coolidge could ever occupy today's White House is absurd.
Though he was simple by our modern presidential standards, there was nothing simplistic about his life or career. For all his reserve and minimalism, Coolidge was an extremely skilled and ambitious politician. From city solicitor to the state house of representatives, to mayor to the state senate to lieutenant governor and then governor and then vice president and president, he ran for office 19 times and lost only one election in his life.
He was a shrewd manipulator of broadcast radio and the photo-op. Versed in Latin and a student of Cicero, Coolidge wrote his own speeches without the assistance or aid of bright young staffers. Those who have read his autobiography (which he penned after his presidency) are aware of his graceful writing and penchant for moving introspection.
His rearing in rural Vermont imparted in the future president the values of thrift (he never owned a car or even a house until after his presidency), a disdain for his era's version of political celebrity. ("We need more of the Office Desk and less of the Show Window in politics. Let men in office substitute the midnight oil for the limelight," he once said.) And strikingly to us in today's era of the superstar chief executive and the revived hyperactive federal government, Coolidge understood that there are some things the government and its chief executive are not capable of doing. He considered the Constitution a limiting document to be adhered to, not adjusted.
Today, the faithful prepare to flock to the nation's capital to participate in what increasingly seems like a coronation. Simultaneously, train trips are being planned and an ancient bible is being brought out, rather immodestly, to remind us of the supposedly uncanny similarities between Barack Obama and Abraham Lincoln. Before the president-elect takes the oath of office in front a crowd of millions, it is worth remembering Coolidge's own assumption of the presidency. When news of President Warren G. Harding's death reached Plymouth Notch, Vermont, Vice President Coolidge, out of necessity, was administered the oath of office by his father, at the family homestead, using a family bible by the flickering light of an oil lamp....