The 250^th anniversary of America’s independence—our Semiquincentennial– is just a few months away.

The celebrations are intended to begin on July 4, marking the 250^th year since the signing of the Declaration of Independence (July 4, 1776). But excitement throughout the country is building.

There will be events that come before July 4, 2026, as well as long after. The intent is to celebrate the remarkable founding of the country and to honor the contributions of all Americans who have participated in creating the country we now enjoy. Many events will also examine our future.

But What About the Confounding Name?

If you haven’t a clue about the complicated term for the celebration—the Semiquincentennial instead of simply calling it 250—here is the breakdown:  The word is built from Latin and is dissected this way: Semi– (half) + Quinque- (five) + Centum (hundred) + -ennial (relating to years)  Put together, it literally means “half of five hundred,” or 250 years.

Stories Told Throughout the Country

While the federal government is crafting the events they want to highlight, they will not be the only voice heard. Celebrations will come from thousands of places–decentralized local, state, and non-governmental initiatives that have important stories to tell.  

Nearly every state and territory has established its own commission (e.g., America 250 NC, America 250 CT). Many of these state bodies have explicitly adopted themes of inclusivity. Many of the events will reckon with the past, and tell a more complete narrative that incorporates local histories of women, Native Americans, and African Americans. They do so because that’s the only way to tell their area’s story in an appropriate way.

By listening to the stories that will be told across the country over many months, Americans will find a complete documentation of how our country was built—and how we can do better.

Where to Start

While many of the celebrations will emanate from the eastern seaboard—Boston, New York, Washington, and Virginia—there will be many places in your own region where you can go to learn local stories. And of course, websites from museums and various government entities will let you time travel from home.

For many, however, the lure of a trip to Boston or Philadelphia will be strong.  If you make it to Philadelphia, then you can’t go wrong with a visit to the Museum of the American Revolution, a relatively new (2017) addition to Philadelphia’s incredible offerings. 

The Museum of the American Revolution

A visit to the museum promises many treats. The exhibit halls are informative and visitors glide easily from room to room. They stand beneath the replica of the Liberty Tree, a touchstone where colonists gathered to debate British policy and how the residents should react.

The galleries explain the harrowing road to independence, including stories from diverse perspectives, including women and Native Americans. Throughout there are significant artifacts on display.

Most exciting and dramatic is the presentation of George Washington’s Headquarters Tent. The tent is presented in a dedicated theater where its story is told. The film explores Washington’s leadership and the tent’s role as his mobile office where he strategized, wrote dispatches, and made pivotal decisions throughout much of the war. As the story builds, so does the excitement about seeing the actual tent. When the curtain rises, the low lights reveal the beauty of the actual tent. It is truly awe-inspiring.

Museum Has a Very American Story

While the opening of the Museum in Philadelphia did not occur until 2017, the idea for the museum began more than 100 years before this. In the early 1900s, an Episcopal priest, Reverend W. Herbert Burk (1867-1933), became enthralled by the story of Valley Forge. It was just 25 miles from where his own church was located in Norristown, Pennsylvania.

Valley Forge, of course, was not a battlefield, but it played a significant role during the Revolutionary War.  This was the location where George Washington decided he and his troops could best survive the winter of 1777-1778. Unfortunately for all, the cold weather that year was particularly harsh. Most soldiers had inadequate clothing, there was sickness, and it was difficult to keep the men fed. The soldiers suffered terribly.

Because of Father Burk’s interest in Valley Forge, he visited the area whenever he could. In 1903, he gave a sermon to his congregation to commemorate Washington’s birthday. Reverend Burk introduced the idea that an Episcopal chapel should be built in Valley Forge in memory of George Wahington.

His suggestion was well received. Others in the congregation began to help out. Slowly, donations were given in nickels and dimes. As the small donations came in, construction began and the walls were built a “few feet at a time.”

Father Burk and others also began acquiring Washington-related artifacts, which was relatively easy given the Valley Forge location.

As the project went on, Burk established the Valley Forge Museum of American History and suggested a small display area be added to the chapel. 

Interesting Inquiry

As Burk continued to collect items, he received an intriguing inquiry.  Would he be interested in acquiring George Washington’s headquarters tent that was used at Valley Forge?

The tent was in the possession of Mary Custis Lee (1835-1918), great granddaughter of Martha Washington and daughter of Robert E. Lee.

Custis Lee was in the process of finding homes where her family’s inherited artifacts would be appreciated. Though she had higher bidders for the tent, Custis Lee favored Father Burk’s project at Valley Forge. She felt the tent belonged in the museum created to honor the Valley Forge encampment.

In 1909, she sold the main section of the tent to Reverend Burk for $5,000 to raise funds for Confederate widows.

But Where Had the Tent Been?

After the Revolutionary War, the tent was preserved by the descendants of Martha Washington, primarily the Custis and later the Lee families, at Mount Vernon and then later Arlington House. (Arlington House was built by George Washington Parke Custis 1781-1857).

During the Civil War, Union forces seized Arlington House, and the tent and other family belongings were confiscated. The tent and other items were stored at the U.S. Patent Office in Washington, D.C. (The home itself was claimed by Union soldiers and became Arlington National Cemetery.) 

In 1901 by order of President William McKinley, Washington’s artifacts were returned to the Custis-Lee family who had originally inherited them.  George Washington Parke Custis Lee was the rightful heir. However, Lee had no children, so his sister, Mary Custis Lee, took responsibility and determined the future of the relics.

When Burke took possession of the tent, he made it the centerpiece of the American history museum in the display area of the Washington Memorial Chapel. By this time, Burk established a Valley Forge Historical Society oversee the collection.

In 2000, the administrators of the historical society knew it needed to prepare to grow bigger. It created a nonprofit organization, the Museum of the American Revolution, to expand on ways to tell the story of the nation’s founding.

Plans Made for a Valley Forge Center

The original intent of the nonprofit was to build a museum in the Valley Forge National Historical Park. Planning started in 1999, but as so often happens, zoning and economic issues caused delays. Then a funder, H.F. Gerry Lenfest (1930-2018) joined the Board of Directors (becoming chairman) and pushed the project forward.

Lenfest bought 78 acres of property in Valley Forge. He felt that like Gettysburg, the area could offer a tourism and hospitality hub (a hotel, restaurants, a conference center, and of course a larger museum).  But residents objected to the commercial encroachment upon the area, and they battled successfully to keep the mixed-use project out of their community.

Lenfest had excellent contacts. He got in touch with then-governor Edward G. Rendell, and together they created a new plan. Lenfest exchanged the 78 acres he purchased in Valley Forge for less than an acre of property at Third and Chestnut Streets in Philadelphia. This was actually prime territory for visitors to the city. The location is in the heart of historic Philadelphia, steps away from Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell.

Excavation

One of the bonuses of the new site was that the city has stringent zoning and deed restrictions. An archaeological survey was required. The dig occurred over several months in 2014, and they found 82,000 artifacts that date to Philadelphia’s founding. These were wonderful additions to the collection.

The museum opened on April 19, 2017. The date was carefully chosen as it was the 242^nd anniversary of the Battle of Lexington and Concord.

Now, the museum is well-prepared to tell our country’s story on the occasion of the 250^th.

If You Can’t Get to Philadelphia…

Like most educational museums, the Museum of the American Revolution has an interesting and informative website. It tells a great deal about what visitors will see on their visit. It also provides photos and information about many of the objects on display.

But there is an added bonus to the site. Museum staff has assembled an extensive reading list that can be filtered based on age and interest of the reader (from children to scholarly adults).  In addition, the site includes short but helpful excerpts so that readers will get the sense of what each book is about.

Also included with the book lists are links to photos of items in the museum. This increases a reader’s knowledge about a particular topic. 

It’s a lovely way to “read into” the Semiquincentennial!

Benjamin Harrison (1833-1901), grandson of William Henry Harrison (1773-1841), served as U.S. President from 1889-1893. When he moved to Washington, D.C. most of Harrison’s grown family also moved in to the Executive Mansion with him. They also brought pets. Dash was the most-often mentioned dog who came in with the family, but there were other mixed breed dogs, and two opossums named Mr. Reciprocity and Mr. Protection. There was also a good-sized goat called Old Whiskers.

Who was Benjamin Harrison?

If you draw a blank when you think of President Benjamin Harrison, you are not alone. Here is a bit of background:  Benjamin Harrison served as a Republican senator from Indiana from 1881-1887. He was then chosen to run against the incumbent president, Grover Cleveland. Cleveland took strong stands against the “spoils system” of governmental job distribution, and he felt the railroads needed to be regulated. Cleveland also believed tariffs needed to be lowered to get more U.S. money back into circulation. Cleveland’s initiatives angered men who benefitted from the spoils system as well as from fewer regulations.

Those men stepped forward to back Benjamin Harrison. Harrison intended to run an honest campaign but the powers behind him encouraged vote-buying and worker intimidation. Republican National Chairman Matthew Quay set aside party money to buy votes in two important states—Indiana and New York.

Harrison lost the popular vote by 100,000 votes, but he won the Electoral College by a huge margin. Harrison had 233 electoral votes to Cleveland’s 168.

Moving to the Executive Mansion

Today extended family members don’t usually live with the First Family. This was not the case with the Harrisons. Harrison moved in with his wife, Caroline, his father-in-law, John Scott, and his and Caroline’s two grown children. Both of them were married with children of their own.

Son Russell Benjamin Harrison (1854-1936), may have only lived there with his family for only the first year or so. In 1890, he bought the Helena Daily Journal and moved to Montana where they had lived previously. The goat, Old Whiskers, was said to belong to him. Perhaps he didn’t transport the goat when the rest of the family moved.

Harrison’s daughter, Mary “Mamie” Scott Harrison McKee (1858-1930) lived in the Executive Mansion with her family for the full four years her father was in office. Her children, particularly, Baby McKee, became very popular with the press.

Caroline, Harrison’s wife (1832-1892), was very committed to charity work while her husband was president. She also wanted to enlarge the home, perhaps because of the number of people they had living there. Caroline Harrison had applied to Congress for funds for expansion. Congress do was appropriate $35,000 for updating.  She installed new floors, added more bathrooms, and painted and papered. In 1891, she had electricity installed (the latest home convenience for the wealthy). But both she and the President feared being electrocuted. They left the lights each night until a building engineer arrived in the morning and could turn them off.

Toward the end of Harrison’s term, Caroline became ill and died unexpectedly. Daughter Mary filled in as First Lady during this time.

The Animals in the Executive Mansion

Of the dogs that lived with the family, Dash was the best known. He was a mixed-breed collie that may have actually belonged to Caroline. The president had a fancy doghouse built right next to the mansion.  Though Dash was definitely a family pet, writers note that Dash often wanted attention from the President. Harrison was reportedly uncomfortable playing with the dog.  He feared “his colleagues would think of him as less of a man.”

The Opossums

The opossums were said to be gifts for the grandchildren, but their names were clearly chosen by an adult: They were called Mr. Reciprocity and Mr. Protection, clearly taken from the Republican platform. “Protection and reciprocity are twin measures of Republican policy and go hand-in-hand.”

According to the Library of Congress, many local newspapers carried a mention of the oposssums’ arrival at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. A newspaper in Clifton, South Dakota, (June 25 (page 2 column 1), 1892, carried a more detailed story: “Some time ago President Harrison expressed a wish to Uncle Jerry Rusk (secretary of agriculture) for two good ‘possums as soon as frost set in. The other morning two fine young ‘possums were received at the White House. These were delivered by Adams Express Company, and were in a box marked: ‘To the President: Two citizens of Maryland—Mr. Protection and Mr. Reciprocity—with the compliments of John R. Howlett, No. 1411 N street northwest.’ Each of the animals had a red, white, and blue ribbon round his neck, one marked “protection” and the other “reciprocity.”

Old Whiskers on the Run

One day while President Harrison was waiting at the North Portico to be picked up by his carriage and driver, Old Whiskers pulling a cart carrying the grandchildren, bolted through the White House gate. A newspaper reporter described Harrison holding on to his top hat and running down Pennsylvania Avenue in active pursuit of the goat and cart. Dash ran right along with him. 

The scene must have had a happy ending as there is no further newspaper story.

More of Family Life

An article in the February 15, 1891 issue of The New York Times wrote about life at1600 Pennsylvania Avenue with the Harrisons. The reporter clearly had a source on staff who must have complained about “Indianapolis simplicity.” The article described the family’s love for codfish balls and flapjacks, Indiana specialties. The woman brought in to cook for the Harrisons noted that her people “couldn’t abide by fancy cooking.” Tthe Times’ reporter writes that the breakfasts now being served (hot bread, strong coffee, and fried steak) would not meet with the approval of an “effete New York epicure.”

While I hoped I might find more information about the family pets, I am still laughing at the final paragraph of the story:

“[Harrison’s} devotion to his grandchildren has even allowed them to participate in the observance of state occasions.  He invited the Brazilian Admiral Silviera to luncheon one day. He attended. So also did the President’s young grandson.  The three were at table, the grandson in his high chair.

“During a conversation between the two gentlemen it occurred to the grandson that he might possibly add to the gayety [sic] of nations by thumping vigorously on the table. He made the dishes jump. Silviera frowned. The President didn’t mind it, but he directed the child to be quiet. Thereupon the grandson leaned back in the chair, raised his feet in the air, and brought them down repeatedly on the table.

“See,” cried the President in gleeful simplicity. “See how well he obeys me!”

Harrison One-Termer

Ultimately, Benjamin Harrison lost the next election. Grover Cleveland regained the presidency.  Harrison passed the McKinley Tariff, the Sherman Antitrust Act, and saw the admittance of six states to the union. He also advocated for protecting the voting rights of African Americans, though nothing happened at that time.

There was one amazing first during the Harrison era. He was the earliest president whose voice has been preserved for posterity. The recording was made on a wax phonograph cylinder in 1889 by Giuseppe Bettini.  Click here to listen to this 36-second recording.

One Final Family Note: William Henry Harrison

Benjamin Harrison was not the first family member to serve as President. His grandfather, William Henry Harrison (1889-1893) was elected to be the ninth president of the United States, taking office in March of 1841. Unfortunately, he caught a cold around the time he took office. He soon had pneumonia, and he died on his 32nd day of office.

Because the stories on my website try to note the animals that the presidents brought with them, I should mention that William Henry Harrison would have moved in with horses and also a goat and a Durham cow named Sukey.

Harrison’s vice president was John Tyler. Tyler served as president from 1841-1845.

Presidential candidates of today usually have non-stop schedules. Between fundraising parties and campaign appearances, they have a long list of people to see and things to do. Though Democratic presidential candidate Kamala Harris got a late start, she set a daunting plan for traveling the country so that people will have a better idea of who she is and what she believes.

Was it always like this? No, not at all. The practice of campaigning has changed greatly over 250 years.

Unseemly to Campaign

During the election era of George Washington and the founding fathers, any sort of travel was on horseback or by carriage, so it was difficult and slow. Fortunately, the custom was that candidates should not travel—that it was “unseemly” to ask for votes. 

To promote a particular candidate, their friends took on letter-writing campaigns. They wrote to acquaintances near and far to explain the benefits of voting for their preferred candidate.

Election Day

The only way to vote at that time was to cast your ballot in person. Many Americans had farms, so they took care of their chores early, so they could come in to town to vote and visit with neighbors.

Voting took place on the village green. The women always set up buffet tables with copious amounts of food for everyone. A town meeting to resolve local issues generally preceded the general vote. Throughout the day, there was plenty of alcohol, generally paid for by the candidates. At some point the election was held.

The Country Grows

As the country grew, voting became more complex because there were state and national votes to process. Despite the fact that candidates could no longer meet each citizen before voting took place, campaigning from town to town was still considered in bad taste–vote begging, some called it. (Today’s candidates would probably be thrilled if we all looked down on them for traveling!) 

Political Parties Become Important

As political parties grew, they took on campaign activities to make their candidates publicly known. The 1840s and 1850s were the beginning of these events. Like the voting on the village green, these events were fun for citizens who were generally isolated on their farms and worked long days.

Campaign rallies were held in large fields, and there might be several stump speakers addressing crowds in different parts of the field. (They were called stump speakers because they spoke from tree stumps.) There was always plenty of food and alcohol.

Parades sponsored by the political parties were also popular. Some stretched for miles with most people joining in rather than just watching.

Travel Begins

By 1860, throughout the country, there was great tension over slavery, and candidates began traveling.

Stephen Douglas was the first. He personally advocated that the slavery issue should be resolved locally—that it was a dying institution and there was no need for a federal solution. But when he won the Democratic nomination for president, the Democrats in the South refused to back Douglas. They split off to nominate John C. Calhoun, who defended both states’ rights and slavery.

Douglas was very concerned about the fate of the country and decided the only thing to do was make his case to the public—even if it meant traveling. Because campaign travel was not considered acceptable, Douglas decided that the best approach was to plan a visit to Clifton Springs, New York, to visit his mother.  He was simply going to make a few stops on the way.

Republicans Aghast

He announced his planned trip, and the Republicans were on to him. They issued a handbill making fun of Douglas. Douglas was short in stature, so they headlined the handbill:

“A Boy Lost! 

“A Boy Lost! Left Washington, D.C. sometime in July to go home to his mother. He has not yet reached his mother, who is very anxious about him. Douglas has been seen in Philadelphia, New York City, Hartford, and at a clambake in Rhode Island. …He is about five feet nothing in height and about the same in diameter the other way. He has a red face, short legs, and a large belly. Answers to the name of Little Giant, talks a great deal, very loud, always about himself…”

Travel Becomes Customary

When the Civil War ended and elections became somewhat more normal, candidates began to travel to campaign. Foremost among them was Democrat William Jennings Bryan. He was a powerful speaker and people loved coming out to hear what he had to say.

In 1896, the Republicans nominated Ohio governor William McKinley.  His campaign manager, Marcus Hanna, knew that going head-to-head against the charismatic Bryan on the campaign trail would be a lost cause. Hanna implemented something new.

The Front Porch Campaign

Marcus Hanna created what he called a “front porch” campaign. McKinley lived in Canton, Ohio, at the time. Hanna arranged for special trains paid for by the Republican Party. Then he offered free rides for all who wished to come in to meet the candidate. The trains ran from July to November, and it was quite a festive occasion.

          As the trains pulled into the Canton station, a mounted brigade and a band met the passengers. The newcomers were then escorted to McKinley’s home. When the music slowed, McKinley stepped out onto the front porch to give an address, thanking the people for coming and asking for their votes.  On one day alone it was estimated that McKinley spoke to some 30,000 people. 

          Visitors brought gifts of flowers, food, and flags, which was lovely. But they often wanted souvenirs from their visits. Some plucked flowers or blades of grass. Others broke off parts of the wooden fence—even bits of the front porch–and to take home. 

By the end of the campaign, the lawn and fence were gone and the porch was in a state of disrepair…. But of course, it worked… McKinley won.    

Local Candidates Worked Hard, Too

While the preceding stories are of campaigns for national office, we can’t forget how hard local candidates work. In my research, I read of a candidate for sheriff carrying along a box of cigars and a quart of liquor.

Another candidate kept a diary of what it took to get elected. In one case, he traveled 30 miles on horseback to visit a ranch where two voters lived.  Because the rancher couldn’t take time to stop and talk to him, the candidate and his traveling companion pitched in. They helped vaccinate calves (and “ruined a $5 pair of breeches dipping sheep” in the process) while presenting the issues to the rancher. 

At another ranch, the owner was very proud of his horse. The candidate recognized how much this horse meant to him, so he left and returned with a photographer. A handsome photo of the ranch owner and his mare resulted.  All three of the family members voted for that candidate for sheriff. 

Every Vote Counts

Every vote in West Texas counted! Just as the votes do today.

Please vote. Take your neighbors and friends along, too.

Calvin and Grace Coolidge had many pets throughout their lifetimes, but not all of them were suited for life in Washington, D.C.

When President Warren G. Harding died of a heart attack in the summer of 1923, Vice President Calvin Coolidge was sworn in as president on August 3, 1923. The Coolidge family’s move into the White House happened quickly.

As any family would, they moved with the pets they had. For those that were not suited to life in the presidential residence, the Coolidges found other homes.

The American public soon learned that the Coolidges were “pet people,” and from 1923-1929, various animals were presented, delivered, and dropped off to live at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

As for Coolidge’s term in office—the public welcomed him as a breath of fresh air. Warren Harding’s administration was plagued by scandal (the Teapot Dome Scandal among them).

Coolidge brought in a sense of propriety. He was a quiet man, and he oversaw a time of rapid and expansive economic growth (the “Roaring Twenties”). He also signed into law the Indian Citizenship Act of 1924, which granted U.S. citizenship to all Native Americans.

The Early White House Dogs

Peter Pan, a terrier, came with the Coolidges to the White House. He did not like the hustle and bustle of Washington life, so the Coolidges found a quieter home for him.

Paul Pry, an Airedale, was the next dog to arrive, and he was fiercely loyal to the Coolidges. He was so protective that he would not permit the housekeepers to enter a room where the President was. This clearly didn’t work.

The animals that had staying power were two white collies named Prudence Prim and Rob Roy. Both were acquired during the presidency and were frequently photographed with the President or First Lady.

The White Collies

Prudence Prim was acquired first from Shomont White Collies, a kennel in Monticello, Iowa. About a year later, the Coolidges wanted another dog from the same breeder. This time, they obtained a male collie who had been working on a farm in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. Known as Oshkosh to the farmer, the dog helped herd the cows as needed.

When the collie arrived at the White House, Grace Coolidge gave him a new name: Rob Roy, inspired by the popular cocktail. Since the the Prohibition era continued, this was perhaps a playful nod to the times. Rob Roy quickly adjusted to his new life and became a favorite of President Coolidge.

Many of the photos of the Coolidges show them with a white collie. Research accompanying the photos most often specify Rob Roy as the dog pictured. But perhaps Prudence Prim was sometimes the white collie in question. She was said to be constantly by Grace Coolidge’s side.

Still More Dogs

After the white collies were in place, the Cooldiges acquired Beans, a Boston bulldog. Beans had the temperament of a top dog, and this caused friction with Rob Roy who felt that he was in charge. The Coolidges soon sent Beans to Mrs. Coolidge’s mother who lived in Northampton, Massachusetts.

A chow whom Grace Coolidge called Tiny Tim moved in for a time, but the President found him to be more aptly titled “Terrible Tim.” He too was given to a good home.

King Cole, an all-black Belgian Groenendael, was a gift to the Coolidges. However, King Cole was skittish around new people. A schoolteacher in Kentucky was chosen to be the new owner of the Belgian sheepdog.

A Trip to the Black Hills with Pets

In 1927, when the Coolidge family planned a summer journey to the Black Hills, both Rob Roy and Prudence Prim were chosen to go along. During the trip, the family acquired yet another dog—this one was an all-black chow they named Blackberry. When they arrived in Washington, they presented Blackberry to the woman their son John planned to marry.

Sadly, Prudence Prim became ill during the trip and died. The press wrote of Mrs. Coolidge’s sadness.

One family responded by sending their white collie to the Coolidges. They somehow arranged for the dog to travel on an airplane (this was 1927). Air transport for pets must have been even worse then than it is today. The dog—named Calamity Jane—and later called Diana, was covered in grease. According to The New York Times (8-28-1927), early photos of the dog revealed a spotted collie. When the grease was washed out of her coat, she was indeed a white collie.

Rebecca the Raccoon

In 1926, a live raccoon—later named Rebecca—was sent to the White House from Nitta Yuma, Mississippi. The sender hoped it would be served for Thanksgiving dinner at the White House.

Before the animal could be taken to the kitchen, Grace Coolidge stepped in. She felt the raccoon was docile and seemed affectionate. Though Rebecca often had the run of the White House, they also created an outdoor pen around a tree for her. Reuben, another raccoon was acquired as a companion, but he soon escaped.

This loss of Reuben did not dampen their commitment to Rebecca. The President was said to sometimes walk with Rebecca around his neck. Grace Coolidge was frequently photographed with Rebecca in her arms. (Rebecca was less popular with the staff. She sometimes used her long claws to shred furniture and even ladies’ stockings.)

When plans were made for the family to visit the Black Hills, Rebecca was included along with Roy Roy and Prudence Prim.

When they returned, Rebecca seemed restless and left the White House grounds a time or two. The family eventually decided she needed to be placed at the zoo.

Cats That Came and Went

Felines came and went in the White House. Then, as now, it’s not easy to keep track of a cat’s whereabouts. The two cats who began in the White House, Tige and Blacky, were not “keepers.” Tige liked to wander and when he was eventually found, he had gone as far as the Lincoln Memorial.

The President decided Tige should wear a collar with a brass label engraved with “White House” on it. However, this may have just been an attraction for someone. The next time Tige disappeared, he never came back.

Blacky lasted for a couple of years but was prone to hunting and bringing home his catch. That soon became tiresome for Grace Coolidge and White House staff.

Birds Came, Too

During the early part of the twentieth century, birds were common household pets. Wealthy families kept their birds in elaborate cages, and everything from canaries to parrots and more exotic pets were treasured.

The Coolidge family had at least two canaries at the White House. There may also have been a mockingbird and a blue and yellow bird that was brought to  them from South Africa. This bird was also a favorite of the First Lady.

Other Animals

In addition, the Coolidges received a wallaby, a bobcat (“Smoky Bob”), a black bear, a donkey, a duiker (small antelope) and two lion cubs (named Tax Reduction and Budget Bureau). The President hoped the cubs could be kept at the White House for a time. However, when they arrived, they were half-grown. He quickly saw they belonged at the zoo.

Billy, the Pygmy Hippo

Billy the pygmy hippo was a gift from Harvey Firestone in 1927. Firestone had a rubber plantation in Liberia. When he came upon a pygmy hippo, he thought it would be a perfect gift for Coolidge.

Pygmy hippos are actually not so “pygymy.” Billy was 6 feet long and weighed about 600 pounds. There were only eight other pygmy hippos in the country at the time, so the zoo was delighted. Not only was Billy famous as an exotic presidential pet, he proved to be a wonderful mate for Hannah, a hippo acquired for Billy. Together they had fifteen calves. Billy fathered a few more with another mate at the zoo. 

Make Room for Ducklings

During his presidency, Coolidge received 13 Pekin ducks (a type of domestic duck from Long Island). The Coolidges loved all sorts of animals and thought they might have some luck at raising the ducks.

They dedicated one of the White House bathrooms to the ducks so they could paddle in the tub and still be easily fed. However, they soon became too large and were sent off to the zoo.

Calvin and Grace Coolidge loved walking through the National Zoo, so they often visited their former pets as well as all the other animals.

The other presidential household that provided homes for many pets was Teddy Roosevelt’s. Click here for the story.

As the balloons come down at the end of the final political convention of 2024, it is quite fascinating to look at a convention of the past.

Many years ago when I wrote my book, Election Day: An American Holiday, An American History, I combed through clippings from a wide range of local newspapers around the country. 

Perhaps because I was born in Colorado, the stories about Denver being selected for the Democratic Convention in 1908 caught my eye. This material did not make it into the book, but the stories are wonderful and reveal so much about what makes this country great.

Here is some of the 1908 story:

Why Denver?

By the early twentieth century, Denver was still a very new city. (It was founded after 1858.) When gold was found, the area grew quickly, but they quickly saw that bust could follow boom. When more gold was found elsewhere, many miners moved on. Despite this, Denver still grew to become the commercial center of the Rocky Mountain region. 

From this experience, the city fathers recognized the need to demonstrate its commercial appeal. As they saw it, Denver had the potential to be the “Paris on the Platte.” One of the projects to help grow the community was construction of a new convention center. The auditorium seated 12,000 people, and they didn’t cut corners. A total of $550,000 was spent to put up an elegant building with excellent indoor amenities.

When an opportunity to bid on a political convention came up, the men realized this could provide a great showcase for the city.

The Mile High City would have been happy with either the Democrats or the Republicans, but the Democrats were a particularly good fit. The man who was expected to be their candidate was William Jennings Bryan. Bryan was a huge “free silver” advocate so that made him well-liked in the area since so many towns in the Rockies mined silver.

Selecting the City

For either national committee, the selection of the city always involves two elements. The first is whether the convention-goers will be well taken care of with nearby hotels and restaurants. The second consideration is financial—will the host city invest in the event? If a political convention is coming to town, it’s going to mean great things for local businesses. 

In the early 1900s, few Americans would have visited Denver, because it was so far west for most Americans. For this reason, the site visit was particularly important. The Democratic National Committee needed to come into the city to see that “wild Indians” did not roam the streets and that the men did not all wear buckskin.

Reporters, of course, had great fun with this type of information. One wrote: “…I don’t know a woman in Denver who carries more than one revolver when she comes downtown shopping.”

Money on the Table

After visiting the city and touring the almost-complete auditorium, the national committee and the city fathers needed to talk money. The Denver committee knew that a meeting in Colorado would mean more travel for almost all the attendees. For that reason, they offered the use of the new civic auditorium rent-free, and they added $100,000 for additional expenses. 

The other two cities being considered by the Democrats were Chicago and Louisville, Kentucky. Louisville pledged $30,000. Chicago offered only $25,000. (No one really wanted to go to Chicago where the convention would be held in the hastily-built, ramshackle facility known as the Wigwam.) These paltry offers against Denver’s substantial one, plus the new auditorium made the decision an easy one.   

One member of the DNC, a congressman from Alabama, raised the issue that accepting such a large sum of money was tantamount to permitting Denver to “buy” the convention. He suggested any unused funds should be returned to Denver.

“Wiser heads” prevailed, and the full contribution was accepted by the Democratic National Committee.

Heightened Security

For any political event in our country today, heightened security measures are necessary. This was true in Denver as well.  The Denver Police hired sixteen additional officers to help out at the DNC in Denver that year. While sixteen officers are nothing compared to what we would need today, one reader notes that though the candidates were not expected to attend the convention, the Denver police still needed to take security seriously. In in the prior 43 years before the convention in Colorado, there had been assassinations of Presidents Lincoln, Garfield and McKinley. McKinley had been murdered only seven years previously.

While sixteen extra officers doesn’t sound like much, it was not uncommon for men in that day to take security issues into their own hands. The Denver Post (July 7, 1908) reported that the Tammany delegation, traveling by rail from New York to Denver, was angered by a pickpocket who lifted a wallet containing $500 and train tickets from one of their men.

Once the theft was realized, an alert was sent out, and all passengers and crew on the train were searched. The wallet was recovered, and the owner received the return of his $500 and the train tickets as well as $8.35 in silver, a Waterbury watch, and the gold fillings in the thief’s teeth.

The train was passing through Ohio when the transgression occurred. The Tammany fellows held on to the crook until the train had reached a point in the wilderness about eighty miles from anywhere. As they crossed a river, they tossed him off the train. The Denver Post reporter concludes: “The next time that a pickpocket starts out to rob a delegation of prominent Democrats, he will skip the men from Tammany Hall.”

The Right Place?

Was the DNC happy with their choice? One reporter certainly seemed to think the right decision was made: With a heading of No Wilted Collars, The Rocky Mountain News reported this on July 5, 1908:

“Looking down on the crowd in the Brown [Hotel] lobby, I thought of the leaking Wigwam in Chicago, where people sweltered and suffered. I thought of Kansas City, where the hungry horde passed over the town like the locusts and everybody was dusty and sticky. St. Louis well, St. Louis should not be spoke of…”

“But this convention is different. Not a wilted collar, not a palm-leaf fan, nobody apologizing for his shirt sleeves and carrying his coat over his arm, the picture of moist misery. Nobody sitting in a corner, wishing he had remained at home next to the refrigerator and ice-water pitcher, nobody mopping his steaming countenance and saying, Is this hot enough for you?”

Snow and Other July Arrangements

Denver organizers went to a great effort to put on its best face for the attendees.

Denverites built a “Welcome” arch to greet the delegates as they emerged from Union Station. It was made of bronze-coated steel that was illuminated by hundreds of lights. The landmark stood at the foot of Seventeenth Street for 23 years until it was torn down in 1931.

Workmen had been busy all weekend to decorate Sixteenth and Seventeenth Streets with buntings and flags, and the stores in the surrounding area featured political themes in their display windows. As the delegates arrived, each group was met by a marching band that escorted them to their assigned hotel. Everywhere there were city residents sporting, “Ask Me” buttons.

They also wanted to give the convention-goers something very special to remember about Colorado. Those who know the state know that snow can generally be found in the Rockies throughout the summer. (Global warming is making this less common, however.)

The citizens of Denver arranged for great masses of snow to be brought in by rail and piled in ten-foot mounds near the new civic auditorium. The snow was under police guard. Natives were to leave it untouched, but out-of-state visitors could play in it to their hearts content. “Many wearing white suits and Panama hats, plunged their arms in the cool white pile, rolled snowballs, washed each other’s faces with it and rolled it into small marble-sized balls in order to suck the coolness.”

Many Things To Do

From the moment the delegates arrived, the city offered plenty to amuse them. Bands played, and stump speakers addressed whoever would listen. Gilpin County arranged for sightseeing trains to visit the mines around Central City and Black Hawk.

Denver also arranged for a flatbed rail car with a band of forty real “Indians.” “The red men gave war dances and all sorts of other dances, intermingled with war whoops that struck momentary terror to the hearts of Easterners.” (The Denver Post, July 8, 1908.)

The delegates themselves did not come empty-handed. Most arrived with promotional items from their home states. It was particularly noted that the California delegation gave away small packages of California prunes wrapped in the American flag.

Just Like Now

But 24 hours before the convention was to start, The Denver Post noted problems: “It is almost impossible to get a telephone connection within twenty minutes. The food supply ran out at about 9 o’clock this morning, and all this afternoon they have been diluting coffee and handling dried peaches to people who wanted cantaloupe or grapefruit.”

Denver Reporters Observe All

The arrival of the men from Tammany Hall was a much-anticipated event. From The Rocky Mountain News: “Five trains bulging with 600 Tammanyites shed their enthusiastic cargoes in the morning…”

Another newspaper, The Denver Republican, wrote: “With a rumbling purr that was distinctly heard out by City Park, the Tiger, the Tammany Tiger, whose switching tail has lashed the voters of so many historic elections into line, stuck his head out of the Union Depot yesterday morning, shot a rapid fire of penetrating glances to right and left, and finding the place to his liking, moved majestically up the street.”

The article went on to describe them as the men with the “molting bank rolls.”

Where is the Candidate?

Just as candidates did not campaign for themselves during the early days of our country, it was also customary that candidates not attend the nominating conventions.  The first president to attend a convention was Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1932. He and his advisors decided he needed to appear in order to put to rest rumors that he was not well enough to run for president.

During the Denver convention, William Jennings Bryan remained at Fairview, his farm near Lincoln, Nebraska. During the day he cut some alfalfa, and area farmers dropped by to visit with him.

William Jennings Bryan in Nebraska

The final night of the convention, Bryan sat with his family and one or two close friends in the kitchen of their farmhouse. They listened to the convention by telephone. Organizers rigged a megaphone to a telephone in the convention hall, and this was connected to a long-distance telephone line.

At about 3:40 a.m. that next morning, Bryan finally received the nomination. Through this enhanced telephone line, Bryan heard for himself the roaring of the delegates,

For the third time, the Democrats turned to the popular candidate from Nebraska. John W. Kern of Indiana was selected as his running mate.

Post-Convention Sightseeing

After the convention, The Denver Republican reported that 50 Tammany Tigers took the Union Pacific to Yellowstone “for the purpose of verifying the report that up there one can see things that spout more persistently than a bunch of Democratic spellbinders.”

Here’s an interesting story about Warren Harding’s dog and how he helped with the election.

President William McKinley was a well-liked president who accomplished a great deal while in office. As 25^th president, he raised protective tariffs to help American manufacturers and stabilized American currency by passing the Gold Standard Act in 1900.

When the USS Maine was sunk by the Spanish in the Havana harbor, McKinley and most Americans favored the U.S. entry into the Spanish-American War. They supported Cuban independence, and when the U.S. was victorious, the country gained territories belonging to Spain including Cuba, Guam, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines. In 1898, McKinley also annexed Hawaii.

President McKinley and his wife were very devoted to one another, but family tragedy and multiple household moves kept their pet population down. One reporter said that McKinley was the first president since Andrew Johnson to move into the Executive Mansion without a pet.

This situation was quickly remedied with the gift of a rooster. But the president’s favorite new pet was the Mexican double yellow-headed parrot that McKinley named “Washington Post.”

This article contains more detail on the parrot and roosters at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, but I also attempt to explain why the other McKinley pets the press wrote about (an Angora cat and a dog) probably did not exist.

Rooster Arrives

Shortly after his first election in 1896, the new Republican president received a rooster as a gift from a Michigan Democrat. The Democrat’s note indicated that the gift was meant as a joke—“a little nonsense.”

The main political topic of the day was hard money vs. soft money. The Democrats, with William Jennings Bryan, were campaigning for “bimetallism,” relying on both gold and silver.

The Democrat’s note said they had looked for the biggest and loudest rooster they could find, because they wanted the new president to have the “gold standard” of roosters. Along with the rooster, they sent a silver-colored perch. The note suggested that the gold standard could be supported by silver, just as the rooster could perch on silver-colored metal. 

It’s not clear how long the rooster was kept by the McKinleys, but contemporary media writes that there were other roosters at the Executive Mansion then. Given that this was the late 19^th century, perhaps the kitchen staff kept egg-laying chickens and a rooster or two.

About the McKinleys

A reporter from the Tribune Chronicle in Warren, Ohio, has the best explanation of the McKinley household and pets. (William McKinley was from Niles, Ohio, but Warren, Ohio, would have been the nearest large town.) The article by Pat Finan says that the McKinleys were the first presidential family since Andrew Johnson to move into the White House without pets.

As a young man, McKinley moved to Canton, Ohio, in 1867 to establish a law practice. In Canton, he met Ida Saxton. She was from a well-to-do family but her father saw that she was restless at home so he suggested she take a job as a teller at his bank in Canton.

It was at the bank that Ida met McKinley. Within a few years, the couple married. From the beginning they were very devoted to each other.

Finan points out that during their early married life, the McKinleys lived in rental properties as they moved to fulfill McKinley’s political duties. After Canton, they moved to Washington while he was in the House of Representatives. They returned to Ohio in 1892 when McKinley became governor. Rental properties and frequent moves would have made pet ownership challenging.

Family Loss

The McKinleys also suffered family loss. Their first daughter, Katherine, was born on Christmas Day in 1871. Two years later a second daughter was born but lived less than a year. Two years after that, daughter Katherine died of typhoid fever.

The second birth had been hard on Ida McKinley’s health. With the deaths of both children within just a few years, she was deeply depressed. She later developed epilepsy, which confined their lifestyle even more. Though Ida and William decided he should continue with his career, his devotion to her remained constant.

Parrot as Gift

Parrots as pets were very popular in the late nineteenth century. Pet stores advertised in newspapers that readers could buy double yellow-headed Mexican parrots for as little as $10.  (Finan’s article indicated that the friend who presented the parrot paid much more–$1300, possibly a typo?)

When the double yellow-headed Mexican parrot was presented to the McKinleys, the president was said to be delighted. He named the parrot “Washington Post,” but it is not clear why that name was chosen. The Post was a relatively small paper at that time. But perhaps McKinley and Post founder Stilson Hutchins were friends.

Though African Gray parrots are the ones best known for learning to speak, McKinley’s parrot did not disappoint. He came in speaking a few words of Spanish and quickly began adding to its vocabulary.

The parrot lived in a large cage outside the executive offices on the second floor of the White House. McKinley designated the bird as “official greeter.”  The bird had a small vocabulary, and among the phrases he would say as people walked by was “Look at all the pretty girls.”

Washington Post also had musical ability.  McKinley hummed tunes like “Yankee Doodle,” “Dixie,” or a favorite song of McKinley’s “Louisiana Lou” and the bird could hum the remainder of each tune.

Assassination

McKinley won his second-term, and shortly thereafter, he and Ida left Washington on a six-week tour of the United States. They traveled by rail through the South to the Southwest; then traveled up the Pacific coast before turning east again. Ida McKinley became ill in California, so the president shortened his schedule.

One of the last stops was at the Pan American Exposition in Buffalo, New York. The president spoke before a crowd of about 50,000 people on September 5.

His assassin—Leon Czolgosz—was in the audience on the 5^th but did not feel he had a clear shot at the president. Instead, he arrived at the smaller public event for McKinley at the Temple of Music on the fairgrounds the next day. This time he was able to get quite close and shot McKinley twice in the abdomen.

McKinley was taken to the Buffalo home of the exposition president. The doctors were only able to locate one of the two bullets. At first, it seemed McKinley might recover anyway. But by September 13, McKinley’s health worsened. He died during the night, at 2:15 a.m. on September 14.

It was reported that McKinley’s primary concern was how his staff would tell Ida.

What Happened to the Parrot?

With Ida in poor health, few expected that she would survive much after the death of her devoted husband. She was considered too fragile to attend the funeral in Washington, D.C., but rode the funeral train to Canton and sat outside the room where the service was held so that she could hear what was said.

The White House staff would have organized the removal of the McKinley items in preparation for the arrival of the incoming president, Teddy Roosevelt, who was moving in with his six children and numerous pets.

It is not clear what happened to McKinley’s parrot at that time, but a follow-up article in the Charlotte News (Charlotte, North Carolina) answers many questions. The article appeared on November 8, 1902.  The bird is now referred to as “Loretta,” but it is also identified as the double yellow Mexican parrot that lived at the Executive Mansion.

The article (reporter not identified) says that after the death of the president, Loretta was sold to a resident of a “Western city.” But the new owners must not have loved Loretta the way the president did, as the reporter notes that Loretta had a couple of different homes before she was returned to the pet store in Washington from which she was originally purchased.

While there is no information on her next buyer, one would hope that someone else appreciated her superior ability to mimic voices and sounds…while keeping their fingers away from the cage. Loretta did bite!

McKinley Pet Stories That Don’t Add Up

The contemporary media proves to be unreliable on some issues, including the McKinley household and its pets. One report indicated that before her husband was president, Ida McKinley had a dog that became ill. A veterinarian was consulted and was able to bring the dog back to good health.

By the time, McKinley became president, the press writes that the veterinarian was rewarded for his fine work by being offered a spot as a doctor going off to take care of the injured during the Spanish-American War.

While being sent to war may be considered an “honor,” it’s not necessarily a gift to any family. With no opportunity to consult McKinley or the veterinarian, one can only suspect that there was another reason the vet was assigned to war duty. Perhaps he was there to tend to the horses and burros that were part of the battles.

Cat or No Cat?

A similar story plays out about an Angora cat that was said to belong to Ida McKinley before she moved to the White House. Once the McKinleys moved in, the cat gave birth to kittens. The press added into the story the names of the kittens. The two smaller kittens were supposedly named after Spanish leaders who were enemies of America. The press wrote that those two kittens came to a bad end.

But biographer Carl Sferrazza Anthony, who writes about many of the first ladies, says that he has never read anything authoritative about Ida owning an Angora cat. He also notes that she was a kind and gentle woman who would not have let anything bad happen to any pet belonging to the family.

Ida McKinley Returns to Canton

Ida Saxton McKinley lived the remainder of her life in Canton, Ohio. She supervised the building of the McKinley memorial until her death in 1907.