My Day by Eleanor Roosevelt

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EN ROUTE TO NEW YORK, Friday—While I was in Phoenix, my daughter and son-in-law gave a reception to give me an opportunity to meet their friends and acquaintances in the place which they have chosen for their permanent home. Like so many men home from the war, my son-in-law, John Boettiger, wanted to pick out a place where he thought there was an opportunity to do a piece of work on his own, and to establish permanent roots for his family. I think Phoenix was a wise choice. I know that the paper he and Anna are building up will be successful. For both of them, it is an absorbing business and a labor of love.

They have found a really charming home in which to put their accumulated and inherited possessions. Among these are many things which belonged to my husband or to my mother-in-law and were formerly either in the old Hyde Park house or in the White House. Their home is not too far from the business center and yet seems to be in the country. Certainly their patio looked gay and bright on the afternoon of the party.

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When I was in Phoenix last year, I was interested in an arts and crafts enterprise, and so I asked my daughter to take me to visit it again. It is called The Arizona Craftsman and is at Scottsdale, only a short drive from Phoenix. To my delight, I found that everything had developed greatly since my previous visit.

There is a fascinating Indian shop where Lloyd Kiva has developed his handmade leather articles, decorated with silver and brass. They are expensive but very good looking and well made. And I think they will last longer than any machine-made article I have seen, besides being attractive in color and design.

There is a fascinating silverware shop and some delightful ceramics. A luncheon service with a lovely new blue glaze attracted me immediately. I also saw some woodwork, some nice pictures, rugs, hand-blocked blouses and skirts, and table covers. There is glass and Mexican silver also on sale. I think it was fortunate that I had to leave to attend a luncheon for the United Jewish Appeal or I would never have been able to tear myself away with any money left in my pocketbook.

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That afternoon, we visited Father Emmett McLoughlin at the St. Monica Hospital, and I was particularly interested in the training school for nurses. Here they have eliminated all racial discrimination—Negro, Mexican, Japanese and white citizens all study and work together. The hospital has a wonderful atmosphere.

In reaching it, we passed a very charming housing project which Anna told me was duplicated a little farther up the street. The Marcas de Niza is for the Spanish-Americans, and the Matthew Henson is for colored Americans. Father McLoughlin is one of the heads of the Phoenix Housing Authority, and when you see the horrible tumbledown shacks outside the housing project, you realize what he has accomplished. He and Bishop Arthur Kinsolving of the Protestant Episcopal Church were consulting together at my daughter's party as to the best methods of getting things done, and I think these two gentlemen will accomplish a great deal for the good of the community, judging by what I saw.

E.R.
TMs, AERP, FDRL