FEBRUARY 1, 1947
NEW YORK, Friday—Yesterday morning Frank C. Walker, former Postmaster General, drove my son James, Miss Thompson and myself to Hyde Park for the unveiling of the bust of my husband which the International Ladies Garment Workers Union presented to the Roosevelt Memorial Library. The bust is in white Westerly granite on a very simple black Swedish granite base, and stands looking out over the field as you come up the steps to the library. The sculptor is Gleb W. Derujinsky who, I understand, once did a bust of my uncle, Theodore Roosevelt, whom he also greatly admired.
I was very glad that my son James was here from California and could be present as well as my son Elliott and his wife and her little boy. The ceremonies were very simple, but very dignified and impressive. Miss Lucy Monroe sang the National Anthem. The Rev. Gordon L. Kidd, the young minister who has just come to our Episcopal church in Hyde Park, gave the invocation, and the Rev. George W. Anthony, who was the acting rector of the church during the war, gave the benediction.
David Dubinsky, president of the ILGWU, made a speech which expressed the thoughts which I think will remain with all of us who were privileged to be present yesterday. This bust, presented by a group of workers, will long symbolize the close tie that existed between my husband and labor as a whole. He had the gift of talking in simple language, and many people who had never understood government problems knew, while he was in office, that these problems were really simple and that it was not impossible for the people to share the burdens of government. The ceremonies yesterday were a reminder of this tie; and the bust, I think, will constantly recall to the minds of many that, even though a man may die, the things he believed in may live after him in the hearts of men and may be expressed in their actions.
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We drove up to the top cottage and had a delicious but somewhat hurried lunch with Elliott and Faye. Then we returned to the library, where I greeted the members of the United Nations Human Rights Commission, who adjourned yesterday and came to Hyde Park in honor of my husband's birthday. After I had accompanied them to the big house and told them one or two things about it which I thought might interest them, I returned to the library with my son James, who spent a little while there with the director, Fred Shipman.
Then, since the drive up had been very foggy in spots, we decided to drive back to New York, fearing that the weather might become bad and make the trip unpleasant. I was very grateful to Mr. Walker for enabling us to make the trip so easily, and was grateful, too, for all the kindly thoughts which many people expressed on this day, which would have been my husband's 65th birthday.