My Day by Eleanor Roosevelt

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EAST ORANGE, N.J., Thursday—On coming out of the hotel where we had luncheon yesterday, I stepped into a taxi and remarked to the driver, "We are certainly having a deluge." He grinned broadly, turned around to have a good look at me and said: "Why, you're Mrs. Roosevelt." At the first red light he handed me his little book and pencil saying, "Would it be too much to ask for an autograph?" Two minutes later he remarked: "How's your son?"

This universal kindliness and interest in Jimmy has really touched me very much. The waiter in the restaurant asked me how he was, the man at the door who held an umbrella over my head, and every person who has waited on me in a shop, all have inquired. It certainly is a kindly world.

In the afternoon I picked up my cousin, Mr. Henry Parish, in my car at the Holland Tunnel and we drove out to his home at Llewellyn Park, Orange, New Jersey. I am staying with Mr. and Mrs. Parish and find their quiet, well-ordered home a very restful place. I have planned to be with them several times since early last spring, but each time something kept me from coming. This is such a peaceful life in comparison to what mine is as a rule, that for the time being it gives me a sense of being out of the tension of living.

In many ways they have been the kindest and closest relatives and friends I have had since childhood, but I find very often that in spite of valiant efforts, one does not always see even one's relatives as much as one would like.

There is something ironical in the results of the New York City primaries which bring out a Democrat in the lead in the Republican primary.

Yesterday morning I read with interest of the exhibition of photographs in the Museum of the City of New York, at Fifth Avenue and 104th Street, entitled: "Faces of New York." This is an extremely interesting idea, for Mr. John Albok, who took them, is not a professional photographer. Many of his subjects are not posed but have been caught unawares in order to make a record depicting various phases of New York City life. It seems to me that all of us should be interested in seeing this show and also in the photographic exhibition by the United States Art Project at the Federal Art Gallery, 225 West 57th Street, New York City. This shows large photographs of the East Side slums, the markets, and various other general views of interest in the city.

A quiet day here with books and much talk and an opportunity to reminisce about the past.

E.R.
TMs, AERP, FDRL