SEPTEMBER 30, 1944
NEW YORK, Friday—Yesterday I called upon Madame Chiang Kai-shek, who is back in this country and, I am sorry to say, far from well. It is sad to see someone who has been through so many years of anxiety and is now suffering from the results. I hope that our climate will be beneficial to her. She tells me that in Brazil everyone was more than kind, but she did not seem to progress. Now she is back near the doctors who helped her before, and she hopes for rapid improvement.
Mrs. Rose L. Brown, national chairman of press and publicity for the General Federation of Women's Clubs, has an editorial in the last issue of the Missouri Clubwoman which I think deserves the consideration of every woman. After every war in the past, monuments have been erected as memorials to the men who have died. Sometimes these memorials are beautiful, and we are glad to have them as a reminder of the service which our men have rendered in the past. The General Federation of Women's Clubs suggests, however, that national parkways be built as memorial highways. In this way, communities would have a perpetually useful memorial which the living can use and enjoy, thereby really keeping alive the memory of the men who sacrificed that the rest of us could have a better world in which to live.
Last night I enjoyed attending the radio performance of the sailor's play which won third prize in John Golden's competition. There were a number of sailors and soldiers in the audience at Radio City, and they seemed to enjoy the half hour of entertainment.
Afterward, I went to Brownsville, Brooklyn, to a packed auditorium where they were holding a nonpartisan registration meeting, with many people standing in the streets outside. Brownsville has really done a grand job on block organization, and if their plans go through they should have almost 100 percent registration and voting. The women are largely responsible, and so the meeting last night was primarily for them. Various heads of organizations spoke, and they certainly gave convincing talks. No one left the hall, I am sure, without knowing that it was his duty not only to register and vote himself, but to see that his neighbors did likewise.
The other night I went to see "Anna Lucasta," a play by Philip Yordon. They tell me that before it came to Broadway, it had a sad ending. To me, it is a sad play all through, and the new, pleasant ending seemed too unreal to have any connection with what had gone before. But it was well acted throughout, and afforded an interesting evening.