A Little Fresh Air

About eight minutes past seven, one mild, hazy morning last week, President Truman emerged through the big front doors of the White House. Two Secret Service men fell in--one at the President's left, the other a few paces behind. Harry Truman stepped out bouncily. At the west gate on Pennsylvania Avenue he found an early-bird TIME reporter. The President flashed him a grin, asked him what he was doing up at that hour, cheerily invited him to come along for a walk.

Said the reporter: "The President must be getting up pretty early these days." Said the President: Yes--at 5:30 every morning. He found that he could get more work done at that hour than at any other time of the day (he had already put in about an hour at his desk). Moreover, he had been taking an early morning walk every day for a month or so--it was about the only way he could manage to get a little fresh air.

The President and the newsman, with the Secret Service men, walked briskly west on Pennsylvania Avenue to 17th Street N.W., cut up G Street to 18th Street, and turned north. Harry Truman, in a blue double-breasted suit, was chipper and chatty. He said he felt fine--all right in every way. Just after Christmas his weight had shot up 15 Ibs. to 175, but he had got it down 5 Ibs. and now he was holding it there pretty steadily. He was not dieting; he was just not eating as much.

Poker & the Ladies. He talked about having met some newsmen's wives, and promised to have a party for them soon. When he talked about poker, the Secret Service man at his left said: "You want to get a few of the suckers together, Mr. President?" Harry Truman grinned: they aren't suckers, he said, and he really doesn't play the game so well, but what he likes is the kind of talk that goes on around a poker table.

Walking along in the soft light, the President remarked approvingly that few people seem to recognize him during his strolls (none of the dozen who had passed had turned to stare). After almost a year as President, the President was still surprised at the clamor produced by his public appearances; he thought that even a President ought to have a little privacy.

He discussed the UNO meeting in New York. He thought it was going all right. He was not worried about the future of America or of any other nation. The people of the world did not want war. He was sure of that.

By then it was about 7:20, and the President had turned back on Pennsylvania Avenue. A lean Navy officer recognized his Commander in Chief, gave him a brisk salute and a casual "Good morning, Mr. President." Salute and greeting were as snappily and casually returned.

Horseshoes & Berries. As he came up to the west gate, the President said it had been a fine walk. But now that his early-strolling habits had been discovered, said Harry Truman good-naturedly, he would have to stop the walks. Then he turned into the White House for breakfast.

Next day he tried a change of pace. He rode in a limousine to suburban Kenwood, Md., walked several of its blossom-scented blocks to the home of his Press Secretary Charles Ross, dropped in there for scrambled eggs & bacon.

The President also:

P: Received two sets of horseshoes--brass-plated and chromium-plated--and told a visiting delegation that he intends to set up a horseshoe pitching court on the White House south lawn.

1/2 Smacked his lips over some mammoth strawberries brought to him by Louisiana's Representative James Hobson Morrison.

P: Received an invitation from Ohio's Democratic Senator James W. Huffman to attend Cleveland's sesquicentennial celebration on July 22.

P: Appointed New Mexico's Democratic Senator Dennis Chavez and the Division of Labor Standards' Verne A. Zimmer as delegates to the International Labor Conference in Mexico City.

P: Named New Dealer James M. Landis a member of the Civil Aeronautics Board. CJ Proclaimed April as Cancer Month, summoned the press, radio and cinema to help in a campaign for cancer control.

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