That Manila could lend anything to Washington may be an idea that would surprise some persons, but the Luneta is an institution whose usefulness to society in the Philippine capital is not to be overestimated. At least it was so in my day; and for a long time before Mr. Taft became President I had looked with ambitious designs upon the similar possibilities presented in the drives, the river-cooled air and the green swards of Potomac Park. I determined, if possible, to convert Potomac Park into a glorified Luneta where all Washington could meet, either on foot or in vehicles, at five o’clock on certain evenings, listen to band concerts and enjoy such recreation as no other spot in Washington could possibly afford.
The Army officer in charge of Public Buildings and Grounds had a bandstand erected in an admirable location at the end of an ellipse, and we decided that the long drive theretofore known as “The Speedway” should be renamed Potomac Drive. Arrangements were made to have band concerts every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon from five to seven o’clock.
Saturday, the 17th of April, the concert began, and at five o’clock Mr. Taft and I, in a small landaulette motorcar, went down to the driveway and took our places in the throng. The Park was full of people. As many as ten thousand crowded the lawns and footways, while the drive was completely packed with automobiles and vehicles of every description. Everybody saw everybody that he or she knew and there was the same exchange of friendly greetings that had always made the Luneta such a pleasant meeting place. I felt quite sure that the venture was going to succeed and that Potomac Drive was going to acquire the special character I so much wished it to have.
I also thought we might have a Japanese Cherry Blossom season in Potomac Park. Both the soil and climate encouraged such an ambition, so I suggested that all the blooming cherry trees obtainable in the nurseries of this country be secured and planted. They were able to find about one hundred only. Then the Mayor of Tokyo, having learned of our attempt to bestow the high flattery of imitation upon his country, offered to send us two thousand young trees. We accepted them with grateful pleasure, but one consignment was found to be afflicted with some contagious disease and had to be destroyed. I watched those that were planted later with great interest and they seem to be doing very well. I wonder if any of them will ever attain the magnificent growth of the ancient and dearly loved cherry trees of Japan.
One of the delights of living in the White House is in being able to entertain one’s friends from a distance with a confidence that they are being given a real pleasure and an experience of an unusual kind. More often than not we had house guests, old friends from Cincinnati, from New Haven, from the Philippines, from here, there and everywhere; friends with whom we had been closely associated through the years and who felt wholehearted satisfaction in my husband’s attainment of the Presidency.
To be stared at is not pleasant because it keeps one selfconscious all the time, but one gets more or less used to it. And anyhow, I enjoyed a sort of freedom which Mr. Taft did not share in any way. While he would probably have been recognised instantly in any crowd anywhere, I found that in most places I could wander about unobserved like any inconspicuous citizen. It was a valued privilege.
My daughter Helen likes to tell about an experience she had one day in Philadelphia. She was a student at Bryn Mawr College and she went in to Philadelphia to do some shopping. Among other things she had to get herself some shoes. At the shoe store she was waited on by a girl who was anything but intelligently attentive. She had tried Helen’s patience considerably by suggesting in a certain nagging way that her superior knowledge of what was “being worn” deserved respect, and that Helen didn’t know what she wanted anyhow.
Helen selected some shoes and decided to have them charged to me, and she thought what a satisfaction it was going to be to reveal her identity to the patronising and offensive young person. The young person produced pad and pencil to make out the check.
“Please have them charged to Mrs. William Howard Taft,” said Helen with what I am sure was her loftiest air.
“Address?”
“Washington.”
The salesgirl held her pencil poised over the pad and with the familiar expression of satisfaction over a sale accomplished said pleasantly:
“DC?”
XVIII
Some White House Formalities
My very active participation in my husband’s career came to an end when he became President. I had always had the satisfaction of knowing almost as much as he about the politics and the intricacies of any situation in which he found himself, and my life was filled with interests of a most unusual kind. But in the White House I found my own duties too engrossing to permit me to follow him long or very far into the governmental maze which soon enveloped him.
I was permitted fully to enjoy only about the first two and a half months of my sojourn in the White House. In May I
