Where I’m Coming From

Harry Truman once said that the only new thing in the world is the history we don’t know. I’m reputed to be a historian. Yet when I embarked on this remarkably neglected subject, I readily realized just how little I knew. Yes, Washington didn’t get along with his mother and Lincoln with his father, Sara Roosevelt and Joseph P. Kennedy were domineering, “Miss Lillian” Carter was a character, Abigail Adams was (thankfully) given to recording her thoughts, and Gerald Ford and Bill Clinton had stepfathers who couldn’t have been more different.

But what of all the others? Why have we had so many books about first ladies and so few about first parents? Indeed, to my knowledge, this is only the second one ever to tell the stories of both our first mothers and first fathers all within a single set of covers. And what stories many of them are! No, not every parent provided the earliest inspiration to a favored son who eventually became president, but many did. And just as many were remarkable in their own right. Consider the heroic mother of Andrew Jackson, who literally saved his life. Or the senior Theodore Roosevelt, who seemingly founded and funded every worthwhile charity in New York. The parents of our presidents have been as varied as American parents generally, and their stories form a compelling component of American history—the history so few of us know very much about.

John F. Kennedy once said that every American mother wants her son to be president. She just doesn’t want him to be in politics. Actually, he was wrong on both counts. The only American mother who, at least near the end of her life, wanted her son to be president was Abigail Adams. She simply felt that the nation needed him. His father, John, who had been president, preferred to see John Quincy return to join him in a law firm so the family could finally make some money.

Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy came from a family steeped in politics and campaigned vigorously for all her sons, but she had also hoped that Bobby would enter the priesthood. The only first mother who specifically wanted her son to be in politics was Rebekah Baines Johnson, but she intended that Lyndon should run for Congress and nearly drove him crazy promoting it. By the way, note how many of our presidents have had their mothers’ maiden names as their middle names, indicating their importance. In Woodrow Wilson’s case, after he abandoned “Thomas” as being too undignified, his mother’s maiden name became his first name, as was the case with Millard Fillmore.

Well, what did all the mothers of our presidents really want for their sons? Simply, like all mothers, that they should lead fulfilling lives. However, if pressed for a specific profession, they would have chosen the ministry. “Mother” McKinley (popularly called that throughout the nation) even had a particular goal in mind—that William should one day become a Methodist bishop. Alas, she had to settle for the White House. The only president who actually studied for the ministry was Woodrow Wilson, and he changed his career goals after his freshman year in college.

What of the first fathers? Except for those with inherited wealth, they were all ambitious, although only about half were successful in their business ventures. Many hoped their sons would join them in expanding these enterprises; but barring that, the preferred profession was the law—and not as a way to enter politics. Of our forty-three presidents, only a dozen haven’t pursued a legal career, although not all proceeded to practice the profession. Yes, Joseph P. Kennedy Sr. wanted one of his sons to be president, but his first choice had been himself.

What I have tried to do, in so necessarily brief an account, is not to dwell on the detailed biographies of each individual parent or the policies of each future president. My concern is less with precisely what they did than with why they did it. Theirs is a shared story combining many separate stories of parents and children. Only these particular children became presidents. Who and what most influenced each of them during his vital formative years? Growing up, how did each interact with his parents? How did their own experiences, values, and character influence his? Of course, we know much more about some families than others. Hopefully, this book of intertwined stories will add some modest insight into the American story we all share.

Please join this voyage of discovery. Consider, for example, the inspiring Ida Eisenhower and Martha Truman, the resourceful Lucy Hayes and Eliza Garfield, the supportive John Coolidge, and the venturesome Samuel Polk––just to name a few. Even some parents not so highly esteemed by their sons made critical decisions affecting their lives and ultimately the nation. For example, suppose Ulysses S. Grant’s father had not insisted that his son, against his will, attend West Point to find some focus for his life? Would we have ever heard of him?

It’s all a part of the history we should know. Thank you for sharing your own conclusions, and enhancing mine.