Hyde Park

As far as famous families go, a lot of Americans idolize the Kennedys. I confess I am no fan of that political dynasty. In my view, the greater political family were the Roosevelts.

I've long been a fan of Theodore Roosevelt and by natural extension, grew to be a keen devotee of Franklin Roosevelt. I've read more books on this family than I care to tell you which has only reinforced my slavish admiration of TR, FDR and Eleanor. These were vital figures all committed to public service, positive government and social idealism. In FDR's four terms alone, he dealt with The Great Depression and World War II. I am practically girlish in my hero worship of this historical figure.

Last night I was pawing through The New York Times and saw a section on great local getaways. One of the items highlit was the FDR presidential library and home in Hyde Park, NY. "Let's take a day trip tomorrow!" I exclaimed to Fang. He shrugged agreement and at 9:30 this morning, we were in the car heading towards a lush and green Hudson Valley.

We traversed small highways that took us through places called Katonah and Fishkill and Wappinger Falls. Along this bucolic highway, we suddenly came along a great stone fence bordering lush fields and acres of splendid shade trees. And suddenly, there was the sign.After a browse through the visitor's center, we made our way to FDR's Presidential Library. As a historical note, FDR's Presidential Library was the first one ever. FDR was closely involved in the process. He donated 16 acres of his family estate for the library and designed the stone Dutch colonial style building. He even had a study in the building which was perfectly preserved from the last time he used it in 1945. The collection of materials was nothing short of staggering. I suspect FDR was what we'd nowadays call a pack rat.We then walked to the family estate Springwood. While imposing from the outside, once inside it was rather cozy and intimate. It appeared to be a house that was used and loved by a family. Maintained as it looked in those days, it was full of books and warm sitting areas. The guestrooms were unpretentious and comfortable; in fact, they were simple and unfussy. The rooms had large windows that opened out upon gently slopped tree lined hills, the Hudson Valley and the Hudson River below. I felt curiously at home in this glorious home. It was difficult to imagine Winston Churchill hanging out here (I mean, Churchill lived at Blenheim Palace) but he did and fondly. There's a peace here that I can't quite explain.

We then wandered through the gardens and stopped to pay our respects at the graves of FDR and Eleanor. Buried on a simple stretch of grass (with their beloved Scottish terrier Fala buried nearby under a sundial), it seemed a simple burial site for such powerful historical figures. The stables stood in the background of the gardens. So lovely. It seemed an odd contrast to me that a man who grew up with such privilege should enjoy such everyman simplicity. FDR always exclaimed his desire to return to his Springwood along the Hudson; a place (next to Campobello in New Brunswick) that held his heart. FDR left Springwood and the estate to Eleanor and his family after he died. Yet his family understood the importance of this place to FDR and within a year of FDR's death, turned it over to the U.S. Park Service.Standing on the great lawn today and staring out upon the vast Hudson Valley, I understood completely the allure that drew FDR back here. It's nothing short of heaven.