Ohio Week continues!

In 1920, Senator Warren Gamaliel Harding ran for president from his Marion, Ohio home. The Senator was very well-liked. For years, he was the owner and operator of the Marion Star, his hometown newspaper.  Here he is, setting type:

He ran his presidential campaign from his front porch where, all day long, he shook hands with potential voters. For the first time, this included women, as the 19th amendment which gave women the right to vote was passed the year before. Harding loved his campaign. “Shaking hands with people is the pleasantest thing I do all day,” he said.

The Harding home at 380 Mt. Vernon Avenue:

To the despair of English teachers everywhere, he was widely quoted as saying, “America’s present need is not heroics, but healing; not nostrums, but normalcy; not revolution, but restoration.” Normalcy was not a word at the time but, thanks to the 29th president, it is today.

The best his opponent could do was to point out that Harding wasn’t necessarily substantive but he was good-looking so it was no coincidence he was doing well now that women were allowed to vote.

I read a biography of Warren Harding many years ago and there was a rumor that he was of mixed race, with black and white ancestry.  The story may have started because of Harding’s support for civil rights. When he was asked about it, Harding shrugged and indicated it was possible. “What do I know?” he asked. “One of my ancestors may have jumped the fence.”

The state of Ohio and particularly the city of Marion were so proud of Harding. He and his wife were photographed casting their ballots. It was, of course, the first time Mrs. Florence Harding had ever voted. Here she is standing in front of her husband in line:

The election was held on Harding’s birthday. Cakes arrived from all over the country but the most significant gift came from his employees at the Star who presented him with a solid-gold printer’s rule. “Senator, we know you personally as a workman, as a writer, and as a business director. We believe in you and know that within the next few hours you will be officially informed of the event mentioned on the back of this rule, ‘Elected President U. S. A. November 2, 1920.’ You will notice that we have left a blank on this rule for another inscription in 1924, ‘Re-elected.'”

Harding’s chin trembled as he accepted the gift. “Fellow members of the Star,” he began. He choked, wiped his eyes with his handkerchief, and continued. “You and I have been associated together for many years. I know you and you know me, and you know that I wouldn’t cheat you. I am about to be called to a position of great responsibility, if the present election returns are to be interpreted correctly.”

Harding won in a landslide. Thousands of people appeared on his front lawn, joyously celebrating the event.

The Harding administration did not end as fortuitously as it began. It was a notoriously corrupt White House, mostly due to friends the president had foolishly appointed to powerful positions. Harding once bemoaned the situation: “I can deal with my enemies. It’s my friends—my g**d*** friends—that keep me walking the floor at night.”

Harding’s friend, Interior Secretary Albert Fall, caused more than a few sleepless nights. He leased Navy petroleum reserves at Wyoming’s Teapot Dome to private oil companies. In exchange for charging low rates and refusing to allow competitive bidding, Fall received over $200,000 in bribes. 

The Teapot Dome scandal is tame by today’s standards but it was a disaster for Harding when the story broke in April 1922. The Supreme Court ruled that Harding’s transfer of authority to Fall was illegal, but Harding himself wasn’t directly implicated. Many people were involved, but Albert Fall faced the most serious consequences, including being the inspiration for the term “fall guy.”

Nevertheless, the scandal took a serious toll on Harding. He died the following year, just two years into his term, in a San Francisco hotel room. Later the public was told he had a history of cardiac issues but no one knew that before his death. He seemed perfectly healthy. Florence, who was with her husband, absolutely refused doctors’ urging to perform an autopsy. As disclosures followed his death, the whispers grew that perhaps the First Lady had gotten wise to a few things and done the president in herself. Today, doctors believe Harding died of a heart attack.

One such disclosure came from a woman named Nan Britton. She was thirty years younger than the president, and had met him in Marion when she was a starry-eyed teenager.

Britton revealed their affair and the daughter that resulted from it, whom she named Elizabeth Ann. All of these revelations were packaged in a tell-all book titled The President’s Daughter. President Harding had been damaged by the Teapot Dome scandal, but after Britton’s detailed descriptions of their liaisons in a White House closet, his reputation would never recover.

Harding didn’t live to see his daughter grow up but she favors him a little:

There was little doubt Britton was telling the truth and many years later DNA testing confirmed it. And a few years after that, in 2015, racy love letters between the President and a different woman, Carrie Fulton Phillips, were released to the public over the objections of Harding’s estate.

Florence died one year after her husband. She left detailed instructions for her funeral, including the closing song, The End of a Perfect Day. I found a video of the song being performed that features none other than the great Barbara Stanwyck. I can’t embed it because of a restriction but here’s a link. I’m not sure how fitting it was for the life of Florence Harding, but the song is lovely, absolutely perfect.