Anniversary

The deep lines around Franklin Roosevelt's mouth had bitten deeper; his hair was thinner, turning from grey to white. But the powerful shoulders, the vitality of a big man, the zest for a good, tension-snapping belly laugh, were as big as ever.

Franklin Roosevelt, who thrives on salt air, missed the fishing trips prescribed in peacetime by Rear Admiral Ross T. Mclntire, the White House physician. He missed his regular dips in the White House swimming pool, for which even weekends were now too crowded, and the relaxation of an Old-Fashioned before a leisurely dinner. He was more subject to head colds, had more trouble throwing them off. But he still kept his weight down to 186, could still cast off his burdens and get a night's sound sleep; he could still laugh. If he could get away to Warm Springs for a brief rest after a winter's overwork, he would rebound quickly.

One bright blue morning last week Franklin Roosevelt, lover of ritual, crossed Lafayette Square to historic, dignified old St. John's Episcopal Church. There, surrounded by his Cabinet and his Congressional leaders, he listened to Communion services led by his old headmaster, monolithic Dr. Endicott Peabody of Groton. When the 27th Psalm was read, he joined in gravely:

When the wicked, even mine enemies and mine foes, came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and jell. Though an host of men were laid against me, yet shall not my heart be afraid; and though there rose up war against me, yet will I put my trust in Him.

Church over, the anniversary marked, the 32nd President of the U.S. returned to the White House to begin his tenth year in office.

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