My Stories

Taxicab

(John fishing with one of his three daughters)

Aunt Eleanor had very little patience with physical ailments.  She believed she could simply deny and dismiss them and get on with her busy schedule.  She had learned that it helped to lie down for a couple of hours if she felt a flu coming on, but if it was simply a painful back or aching headache, the best approach was to ignore it.  We all felt a little intmidated by her strength of character and certainly reluctant to admit any ailment ourselves, least of all fatigue. 
    In the summertime, it was my aunt's practice to go to New York once a week to attend to her appointments and errands and to stop in her city apartment.  She could get a taxicab in the city--in fact many of the cab drivers recognized her and had taken her across the city as a fare--but in balmy weather she preferred to walk.  Sometimes walking took less time than a cab would take to go the same distance, and she knew and taught me which streets were pleasant to walk on and which ones to avoid. 
    Dressed in her light tweed coat and skirt to match, wearing a stylish hat and gloves, always in good lookig walking shoes and carrying a handbag, she felt at home on the sidewalks of New York.  So familiar was her route that she could plan other events as she strode along.
    One day she took a shortcut in the middle of a block, stepping into the street from between two parked cars.  A taxi driver, sho had just delivered a fare, backed out into the street, hit Aunt Eleanor, and knocked her down.  She got right up again, but the taxi driver was instantly out of his cab and beside her.  He apologized profusely, asking to take her to the octor at least home, but Aunt Eleanor was more concerned about him.
    "You must leave right now!" she directed him.  "You might be fired for this!  Just go, get in your cab and go right now!"
    A small crowd was already gathering.  Aunt Eleanor picked up her bag and walked steadily down the block in order to put an end to the scene.  Unfortunately, she found that walking was painful, but she wasn't going to let that cab driver endanger his job.  She told me she fet relieved when he drove off, and she was sure that no one would notice, she allowed her self to limp to her apartment.
    For once, she felt that her ankle was so painful it was only sensible to go to her doctor, who discovered that it was badly sprained.  He told her to keep her leg elevated and to put no weight on it for several days at least. 
    When she returned to Val-Kill Cottage in two day's time, I arranged a comfortable chair and footstool and low table for her in Tommy's living room where she could work.  She dictated her daily column to Tommy and worked at her mail.  She even allowed herself to take an occasional nap sitting upright, but she would not admit to anything more than inconvenience.  She tried to cheat, but the ankle really was painful when she tried to walk on it.
    When her son John came over from the Stone Cottage to see her, he laughed, then said, "Sorry Mummy, but it seems that sometimes you're just like the rest of us after all."
    Aunt Eleanor looked up at his considerable height.  "But, Johnny, I don't want to be just like the rest of you!"

Cousin Laura

Families are not unlike a barnyard flock; there is more often than not a pecking order in the chicken coop.  There does not seem to be a specific moment when you are assigned your place in the hierarchy, but once assigned, t can become permanent.  Among her cousins, Aunt Eleanor did not rank highly in the system of prestige.  She had several strikes against her.  According to her mother, she was not beautiful or vivacious.  Rather, she was too tall and awkward, unsure of herself, and serious.  Her cousins felt sorry for her and therefore that much more secure in their own position in the hierarchy.
    Cousin Laura Delano was a younger sister of Sara Delano, mother of Uncle Franklin.  Laura was a smallperson, witty and acerbic, always ready to gossip.  For a time, she owned a successful women's clothing boutique in New York City.  She wore silks that flowed with her feminine figure and suggested mystique.  Expensive jewlry weighed down her fingers and jangled opulently from her wrists.
    Younger members of the family admired and envied her.  Young wives of the Roosevelt sons vied with one another to become a favorite of Laura, hoping to be remembered in her will.
    It was obvious that Laura felt secure in her empire.  She gave intimate dinner parties for  select groups in the summertime that included her cousin Eleanor and some of Eleanor's guests.  The invitations were always for eight o'clock in the evening, so aunt Eleanor would always serve a substantial tea earlier at four.
    At first I was puzzled by Cousin Laura's attitude toward my aunt.  She seemed unable to let go of the fact that Eleanor had been the first lady of the United States and was now becoming "First Lady of the World."
    I once heard :aura ask her, "Tell me, Eleanor, is Winston Churchill sexy?  Did he wear his jumpsuit in the White House?"  When my aunt hesitated, Laura added, "Oh, come now, you must know."
    Aunt Eleanor simply smiled and said to her hostess, "Laura, I have no idea."
    At another dinner party I attended, Laura, who knew that her cousin seldom touched alcohol, leaned over and poured a generous jigger of sherry in "dear Eleanor's" soup.
    It was then that I suspected Laura felt threatened by a power she could not match.  As a social circumstance, it was only embarrassing and rather sad, but eventually she revealed true malice.  Shortly after Uncle Franklin died, she told Aunt Eleanor that his mistress Lucy Mercer had been among the people with him at Warm Springs when he died.
    I can scarcely imagine the hrt my aunt felt.  I believe she had not known until that moment that he had continued his relationship with Ms. Mercer.  But Aunt Eleanor did not allow this revelation to destroy her.  She simply had too much good work to do.

(photo: Aunt Eleanor and Cousin Laura)

History 1906-

History