space in a state of perpetual clutter. Atop the white painted table next to the bed were aspirin, nose drops, a glass of water,
pencils, reminder notes, an old prayer book, a pack of cigarettes, an ashtray, and a couple of telephones. No one was allowed to tidy this table. On a shelf above the table rested a six-by-three-inch alligator-covered case that contained a clock and a barometer. On the floor below sat a small basket where Eleanor would often leave him notes, memorandums, and articles she wanted him to read. âI have a photographic impression of that room,â recalled Secretary of Labor Frances Perkins. âA little too large to be cozy, it was not large enough to be impressive.â 3
At some point during the morning FDRâs valet helped him get dressed. He slipped on a pair of flannel slacks and an old gray pullover sweater that had once belonged to his son James. Prettyman then wheeled him into the adjacent Oval Study. With the exception of a visit to the White House physicianâs office, the president would conduct all of the nationâs business from this small room on December 7.
While the Oval Office represented the seat of power, Roosevelt preferred the comfort of his private study on the second floor. Speechwriter Robert Sherwood described the Oval Study as âthe focal point of the nation and, in a sense, of the whole worldâ during FDRâs presidency. Lined with mahogany bookcases, the room was stuffed with ship models, maritime pictures, books, and stacks of paper. White woodwork-framed walls were painted in a color that a White House architect described as âa sort of schoolhouse tan.â On them hung portraits of his mother, Sara, who had died three months earlier, and his wife. An oval dark-green chenille rug covered most of the floor, while an odd assortment of tables, floor lamps, and chromium ashtray stands contributed to the clutter. The leather sofas and chairs had once been used by Theodore Roosevelt on the presidential yacht the Mayflowe r. A pipe organ occupied one corner of the room. FDR had received it as a gift, and although he never learned to play it, he also refused to get rid of it. 4
The study was FDRâs favorite room in the White House. It was where he found solace in the massive stamp collection he had inherited from his mother, which contained a million stamps preserved in 150 matching albums. It was also where he unwound in the evening,
inviting his many houseguests to join him for cocktails. A tradition dating back to when FDR was governor of New York, the cocktail hour was the time at the end of the day when he gathered with a few close aides, and the numerous houseguests, to reflect on the day, share stories, and exchange jokes. No official business was permitted. The president insisted on mixing the drinks himself, experimenting with new concoctions of gin and rum, vermouth and fruit juice. He had a special cocktail for each day and always ordered the appropriate ingredients ahead of time. âHe mixed the ingredients,â reflected Sherwood, âwith the deliberation of an alchemist but with what appeared to be a certain lack of precision since he carried on a steady conversation while doing it.â 5
In addition to the informality of the room, Roosevelt no doubt appreciated its convenience. The Oval Study was ideally set up for a man who could not walk. His bedroom and bathroom were just off to one side. It was an easy room for him to navigate, and he could do so without assistance. Roosevelt needed help in the morning getting out of his bed and into the wheelchair, but he was capable of transferring himself from his wheelchair to his more comfortable working chair.
Roosevelt used a wheelchair only for transportation, and he designed it specifically for that task. A simple device crafted from the frame of a regular kitchen chair, it was mounted on a sturdy base with two large wheels in the front and two smaller ones in the back.