My Day by Eleanor Roosevelt

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HYDE PARK, Thursday—I had an interesting suggestion the other day from a gentleman in Ohio as to a possible use which he had conceived for the Willow Run plant. He says: "I saw Willow Run grow from a bare and forlorn acreage into the greatest industrial miracle of its kind in the world, and then I saw it wither and die. The best sets of business brains in Detroit are now actively investigating the wisdom and possibility of the greatest of all great World's Fairs to be a prompt post-war activity.

"Willow Run is vividly implanted into every literate mind in the civilized areas of the world. What better location than Willow Run as a base or center cell for this greatest of all World's Fairs?"

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This gentleman is not alone in his idea. In New York City a group has been thinking along somewhat similar lines. Another group, composed of people in the services, have been thinking of something which is not quite the ordinary kind of World's Fair, and yet akin to it. Their idea is to create a fair that will hold the interest of service people throughout the United States, showing all the areas on land and sea where they have fought. This would be a place where a man could take his family and say: "I couldn't tell you what it was like where I was fighting, but here it is before your eyes."

And tied in with the history of his military achievements would be a picture of what must be achieved in the field of peaceful world relations, based on a knowledge of the economic resources and the needs of all the different parts of the world. Here, again, it is easier to understand the world of the future if you see the situation and the actual people living in it than if you read about them in a book.

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The Postmaster General and Mrs. Hannegan, when they arrived late yesterday afternoon, told us of their difficulties in finding this small cottage, which is well back from any road. I think I should have little road maps made to enclose in letters of invitation, because if I had not happened to meet Paul Fitzpatrick on the road he might easily have had the same difficulty.

Describing to a person how to follow country roads, even for a short distance of two or three miles, is one of the arts which has gone with the horse and buggy days. It was never an art very well practiced, for I can remember having to ask many people how to reach a particular destination. The last person questioned would usually say, "That is Mr. So and So's house over there," in the most surprised tone, as though everybody should know where Mr. So and So lived.

E. R.

TMs, AERP, FDRL