Time Machine

Our latest find

Our latest find

One of the things that amazes me most about this project is that every now and then, a piece of the puzzle drops mysteriously from the sky, as if by preordained writ. I noted in a previous post how a strange and unlikely attraction to a tiny spot in Big Sur led me to Lathrop Brown’s descendants in the persons of Pam and Elmer Grossman, and how since then, so many aspects of Lathrop’s life, previously almost a perfect void, have now come together, including the wonderful family photo archives Dan L’Engle Davis shared with us last month. Thanks to these folks, Lathrop’s room will be as replete with personal memorabilia as Franklin’s (there thanks to the FDR Library), just as if ol’ “Lapes” had left the Suite moments before.

Last week another fascinating bit of FDR history descended from the heavens, this time from a far more prosaic source: EBay. As is my occasional wont, I was scanning one day for period Harvard memorabilia, and I noticed a little tome entitled Harvard University Songs. It had a delightful cover, and I was intrigued. There was very little detail supplied, except that it was an illustrated songbook, and that the publication date was 1902 – right in our range. So without giving it much thought, I bid on the item, maximum price, $20, thinking it might make an interesting addition to the period music already in our collection. It was mine later that day for a grand total of $18.12, including shipping.

The book arrived today, and turned out to be a small treasure.

True to description, it was a charmingly illustrated volume, much akin to the caricature book of Harvard Personalities I discovered earlier this year (also on EBay, and the subject of a future post). Even more appropriately, the drawings were done by FDR classmate (and fellow Newell Junior Crew Member freshman year) S.A. Welldon ’04, and dedicated, interestingly, to the Harvard Union. (The Union’s appeal is hard for us to appreciate today, but in 1902, it was hugely important in Harvard student life.)  All very intriguing. But what really got me going was the short introduction:

The compiler has tried to make a collection of the songs that are actually sung at Harvard, by the Glee Club, by the crowds at football games, and by the undergraduates and graduates. Many of the songs and versions of songs have been passed down to the present classes by ear alone, and are printed here for the first time.

WOW!

Think about it: what sits beside me on my desk as I write is a veritable miniature window back in time, capturing from that pre-recording age, the actual songs, and versions of songs, that FDR knew and sang at Harvard, exactly as he sang them. (And sang our president-resident did: the reason we have a piano in the Suite is that FDR and Lathrop both belonged to the Freshman Glee Club.) And these songs were sung not only by the class of 1904, but by generations of Harvardians before them. You can tell by just reading the melody and lyrics that some of these songs are truly old:

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Now I can’t claim this volume as a first-ever discovery; once I had this dear little book in my hands and realized what exactly it was, I soon able to backtrack and find another copy buried away in the Harvard University archives, and later, was even able to track down a scanned version of the entire book (at UCLA Berkeley, of all places. You can, and should, view it here). But what fascinates me, and what I hope fascinates you, is the FDR Project’s unique ability to pluck otherwise dead and dry material like this thin neglected volume and place it once again in a living, breathing historical context of immense interest to scholars and historians worldwide, so that you and I and they,  – and eventually, hopefully, everyone with a computer through the virtual museum we’re planning – can hop-skip an entire century, and for a brief instant, experience what it was like to be alive at Harvard with FDR in his sophomore year. It’s one thing for me to simply tell you that FDR and Lathrop sat in Morris chairs and sang some ditty called “The Winter Song” over a glass of Piper with chums by the fire: it’s entirely another for me to give you the opportunity to sink into the soft cushions of those very same chairs, feel the heat of that same crackling fire, hand you a glass of sibilant bubbly, and teach you to sing this almost forgotten song in precisely the manner,  in precisely the same spot, on precisely the same instrument as FDR heard it eleven decades ago.

Time travel is what this is, really – rudimentary perhaps, but time travel none-the-less, and frankly, it’s enthralling.

What’s next from the heavens? I know not, but surely something. For the moment, we’ll just take our cue from another FDR contemporary, and head towards “the second star to the right and straight on ’til morning…”

Thanks to all you who’ve made this incredible journey possible. We continue to welcome, and need, your support.

FDR, Our Past and Future

Though here at the Restoration we’re usually too covered in archival dust to pay much attention to current events, we noticed an article in today’s New York Times that might interest our readers:

FDRcar

"Bet on Private Sector for Recovery Could Prove Risky," headlines the New York Times, with this photo. Care to guess the year? 1932, 1937, 1949, 1982, or 2010?

While we can’t comment on the economic validity of these arguments, we can certainly assert that a thorough understanding of FDR’s life and times seems daily ever more valuable.

We look forward to your continued interest and financial support as we undertake this endeavor.

Project Lathrop Brown

I was sitting in the Suite a few weeks ago, looking around, and I must admit to being quite impressed. With furniture mostly in place, pictures on the walls, mementos scattered everywhere, the place is really starting to become a real Victorian room with personality. This last is truly the key, because our quest is not so much to create a period interior (although that’s interesting in itself) but rather to create a period interior that reflects two very specific men: FDR and Lathrop Brown. Fortunately for FDR’s posterity, our president’s past is extremely well documented. The FDR Library and Museum at Hyde Park in the person of Bob Clark, chief archivist, has been extremely helpful in providing us with images that make FDR’s personal space come alive: pictures of the family at play, views of Springwood, images of the Half Moon at full sail. Not so for Lathrop Brown – his early life was mostly a blank to us beyond the wonderful later-life pics Pam Grossman, Lathrop’s granddaughter, and her husband Elmer dug up for us  – at least until last month. Exactly as I was lamenting the lack of detailed information and photos of Lathrop’s family, I received an email from Teresa Izzo, friend and fellow history detective to Dan L’Engle Davis, who turned out to be Lathrop’s sister Lucy’s grandson. (Got that?) Teresa had found us through the website, and wanted to let me know that Dan had “quite a collection” of Brown family memorabilia.

Was I interested?

Is the Pope Catholic? How soon can you get here?!!

“Quite a collection” turned out to be a tremendous understatement: an unbelievable collection of numerous photo albums, stuffed with over a century of Brown family history from the 1860’s to about 1910. Here at last were the insights into Lathrop and his family we had lacked: their travels, their childhood pictures, their homes, all in a remarkable state of preservation. Some examples:

LucyNevinsBarnes

Lathrop’s mother, the former Lucy Nevins Barnes, about 1878, just before she married Charles Stelle Brown, who was then in the process of building a real estate empire in New York City. (Brown’s firm sold the land to build the Brooklyn Bridge, as just one example.) Later in life, Lucy Barnes Brown would go on to become the first ever woman’s amateur golf champion.

Here she is, ready for the links in 1895:

lucy barnes brown

Lathrop’s Father, Charles Stelle Brown: (this pic courtesy the Grossman’s)

Charles Stelle Brown

And the children:

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Lathrop’s siblings in 1893. From left to right: Charles S Brown Jr, ’08, Lathrop Brown ’04, Lucy Brown, and Archibald Manning Brown ’03. Charlie, as he was known, went on to head the family’s real estate firm in Manhattan, which still exists today,  by the way – Brown, Harris Stevens; Lathrop (Lapes, (or Lapie) to his family, as we now know thanks to the albums, would soon be congressman and presidential confidante); Lucy, who married artist William L’Engle, became a famous painter; and Archie, who became a well known architect.

The pictures run the gamut from formal portraits to Brownie shots. Below is Lathrop and Miss Lydia Jones, Long Island Sound, summer, 1903. (Lathrop, already with sufficient credits to graduate, would return to Cambridge that fall, his only duty to manage the Varsity Football Squad. FDR, also unofficially matriculated, would occupy himself with his two loves, one old – The Crimson, and one new – Eleanor.) The two hand-held Brownie shots, here restored, are humorously labeled “Before the Sail”:

before the sail

and “After the Sail.”

after the sail

I could go on and on, but you get the general idea: from the clear blue sky has dropped an invaluable collection of close to 1000 pictures that documents the lives of not one, but three distinguished Harvard alums, and that allows us to fill out the Lathrop Brown side of the FDR Suite equation in a way we never thought possible.(Not to mention fulfilling the Foundation’s charter “to preserve and document Harvard student life at the turn of the 20th century.”)

So, short story: we’ve launched Project Lathrop Brown. With the help of our summer intern Justin Roshak, and while we have the kind loan of this material from Dan and Teresa for the summer, it’s our intention to scan and catalog a large percentage of these photos, both for our own eventual use in the Suite, as well to share with the Harvard University Archives and FDR Presidential Library.

And that’s where you come in: after some heady months of donations earlier this year, funding has slowed to a trickle, and we could use your help! Project Lathrop Brown will cost about $2500, mostly in new digital equipment suitable for this kind of intensive photographic preservation and reproduction; in addition, we’re still about 30K out from finishing the Suite. If you haven’t donated before, or if you can find your way to helping us again, now’s the hour!

Ah, Mattresses At Last – Almost

I’m delighted to announce that New England’s premier bedding manufacturer, Gardner Mattress, has agreed to donate custom mattresses for the FDR Suite bedrooms. While this may not sound like a world breaking-news event, finding a qualified company to make mattresses for our period beds had turned out to be quite a challenge.

Why, you ask?

As Gardner Sisk, President of Gardener Mattress explained to me over lunch today: “Years ago, mattress sizes weren’t standardized. You bought a mattress when you bought a bed, and it was specifically made for that frame, whatever its dimensions. Then, after a few years, as the support began to go, you called the maker, who removed your old mattress, re-stuffed it for you, and returned the same piece, door to door. You could literally go from cradle to grave on the same bedding.”

The Gardner factory in the 30's. Interestingly, custom quality mattresses are even today largely put together by hand.

The Gardner factory in the 30's. Interestingly, custom quality mattresses even today are largely the creation of hand labor.

Hmm. Given what we today know about dust mites, etc. I won’t even comment on that…

In any event, true to period form, our two FDR bed frames – one (FDR’s) in high Eastlake Style, the other (Lathrop’s) in very early Arts and Crafts – were of two different mattress types, each different sizes, and requiring different support mechanisms. As Mr. Sisk carefully measured the intricate frames, and explained to me how they put together this period appropriate bedding, I became quite intrigued. For something so quotidian, it turns out mattresses are quite complex mechanisms with a fascinating history, and I’ve decided to take a trip up to Gardner’s Salem, Massachusetts factory to document the manufacture of our beds as they come together in mid-July.

Interestingly, the Gardner company has an FDR connection, at least chronologically: the  corporation was founded in 1933 by Alan J. Gardner at the height of the Depression, and has thrived almost 80 years by becoming innovators of the finest quality mattresses and box springs on the East Coast.

Can’t wait to try them out! Nor can you, I bet.

Coming this July, to the FDR Suite. (Deo volente!)

Summer Internship & Updates

Hello All!

Again I must offer apologies for being off-line for so long: the season dictates that the day job (landscape design) be all-engaging, and so this notice will be brief. But much good news: The FDR Suite was again in the New York Times; the manufacturing problems of the study wall paper have finally been resolved, and the final paper looks to be put up in June; and, most importantly, I’m proud to announce our first ever summer intern: Justin Roshak. The Restoration is finally sufficiently established to occupy the talents of a summer researcher, and Justin, who will be a senior at Hopkinton High School this fall, will be creating a database of all the Foundation items in the Suite (both for insurance purposes as well as for an eventual virtual Internet museum); in addition, he’ll also be researching the theater of FDR’s time at Harvard, to give us a better idea of how undergraduates of that era engaged in amusement. Lest any of you wonder why our first intern is a high school student, suffice it to say that Justin (son of Jen Childs ’86) has been an active participant in the project’s research for the last two years. Avidly interested in history, Justin put together all the references to the Suite in FDR’s letters that you now see online, in addition to the references to student activities. Oh, and did we mention he just received perfect SAT scores? (Way to go Justin!)  Perhaps he will grace the Harvard class of 2015, who knows? But for the summer, he’s ours, and he’ll be a great asset.

This internship program, by the way, is just the first of our scholastic efforts. As many of you know already, our plans call for establishing two scholarship programs, one to allow undergraduates to study and work at Hyde Park for the summer, another to provide traveling scholarships to needy students who otherwise wouldn’t have the money to participate in study opportunities abroad. I’ll be writing more about these programs in upcoming posts.

Until then, enjoy the return of warm weather!

Of Daybeds and Historical Narratives

couch

We have a new arrival in the Suite this week. A wonderful burgundy and gold late 19th-century daybed that looks as if it were made and upholstered for the room. As beautiful as it is though, it almost didn’t make the cut: I had initially passed on the purchase two months ago. We did, after all, have a perfectly fine divan in it’s place, a bit fussy perhaps, but in good shape, and did we really need to be second-guessing furniture choices at this stage? But then two events conspired to make me change my mind. The first was a revelation by one of our antiques suppliers that our initial purchase was in all likelihood the product of the famous cabinet maker John Jelliff, and worth many times the amount paid for it. (You can view this piece in the previous post.) The second motivator was the result of a whole semester’s research: Amanda Guzman, Adams House ’11 and one of our project investigators, had just finished putting together a photo database of all the student room photos in the Harvard archives. (Some of these are already online, HERE.) Once these pictures were assembled into a single group, rather than strung out through dozens of boxes in the Archives, we were able to start analyzing similarities between the various interiors. One thing I noticed immediately was the prevalence of reclining couches, like these two examples seen below:

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In this 1880 view from one of the Yard dorms, a student reclines on a couch almost identical to ours, placed directly in front of the fireplace

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This 1900 view shows a similar couch, covered in pillows as was the fashion of FDR's day. Yet another quest!

Sometimes objects are the result of research and a bit of creativity; FDR writes to Sara in November 1900 "The butterflies are most ornamental." So where to find a Victorian butterfly collection? Ebay. I bought a loose collection of antique Formosan butterflies; then carefully mounted and framed them. They now hang over FDR's desk.

Sometimes decorative objects are the result of research and a bit of creativity; FDR writes to Sara in November 1900 "The butterflies are most ornamental." Lovely! Where do you find a Victorian butterfly collection? As it turns out, on Ebay -well, sort of. Period collections cost astronomical sums, so I tracked down a loose assortment of antique Formosan butterflies; then carefully mounted them on linen and framed them. They now hang over FDR's desk, and, I think, look "most ornamental."

With so many couches vs. upright settees in the photos, the decision to acquire the daybed and sell the divan became obvious. Which leads to a question many of you have been asking: How are we going about choosing what items to include in the Suite? Well, like any good historical site we’ve created what’s called a narrative, a basic premise or rationalization which defines the moment in time we’re attempting to hold. For the FDR Suite, it’s a weekend in May, 1904. Franklin (Frank to his friends) is away at a house party (he hasn’t had much studying to do, paying only slight attention to the graduate studies in history he’s about to drop.) Lathrop (Jake) is away as well. He’s been in New York since January, having, like Franklin, completed his undergraduate studies in three years. Jake had hung around the College this past fall to manage the Varsity football team, but later decided to return to New York to get his feet wet in his father’s real estate firm. All his possessions are all still here though – no point in being uncomfortable during those week-long graduation ceremonies in some hotel! In a month or so, after Commencement, two large moving wagons will appear at the door of Westmorly Court bearing  staff who’ll pack and disperse the contents of four years of life at Harvard, readying the rooms for their next occupants. But for now – for this one sole weekend in May 1904 – the Suite is available for your asking, an intimate view into the man who would become the 32nd President of the United States. Care to stay awhile? Please do! After all, any friend of Frank and Jake is a friend of ours…

As for how we go about selecting individual decorative items, that’s a bit harder to describe. Except for the two dozen or so items specifically mentioned in FDR’s & Lathrop’s letters, we’re forced to piece together likely scenarios, based on the two mens’ noted likes and habits, guided of course by the wealth of information contained in the 50 or so shots we possess of student rooms in the period. So for Lathrop, his bedroom will have a sports and hunting theme, two well documented passions of LB. Football memorabilia, horse prints, the hunting tapestry we’ve acquired – over the next year we’ll slowly piece together a period collection that reflects a sporting gentleman of the age. For FDR’s room, the theme is travel, the sea, and collecting, all noted passions of the 32nd President. A model of the 1903 sailing yacht Atlantic (just acquired); naval pieces, travel scenes, stamps, stuffed birds. Again, the next year will present a giant treasure hunt tracking down and purchasing suitable period items.

And speaking of purchases, for those of you who haven’t donated to our cause yet, or are due for renewal, we could use your support now. We’re about to begin acquiring the textiles for the suite (draperies, rugs, etc) and need to raise about 10K to finish. Any amount you can spare will be most welcome. The form to donate is found HERE.

Until next time!