The Presidents of New York - Part I

While on the way back from Richmond with Steve and Elisa (still to be written about), we reviewed the list of parks in the National Park system and tallied the ones we’ve each been to (I’ve already forgotten the number, out of 391 or so). I noticed that Theodore Roosevelt’s birthplace was in Manhattan – it’s just off Fifth Avenue at 20th Street, and I’m near there a lot these days – so I sauntered over there one day for a tour and a passport stamp (I have a lot of little pieces of paper with passport stamps now – I’ll glue them in when I get my passport out of storage). The Roosevelts were a wealthy old Dutch New York family with a very elegant brownstone – there was a nice tour and a small exhibit with the highlights of TR’s life. Bully! Amazing to think I saw the cradle he slept in.




On the way out to Southampton I always pass the exit for Sagamore Hill, Teddy’s summer home in Oyster Bay, and when it looked as though Hurricane Earl was headed for the East End, I went into Manhattan for Labor Day weekend. My services were not needed and the storm held off, so I went took the LIRR out to Oyster Bay for a day. I realized how little I’ve really done on Long Island – I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve been on the LIRR.

I took a taxi from the Syosset train station to the estate, which consists of the house and grounds, a museum, and a nature path out to the bay. Walked the grounds (which had been a working farm in his day) until it was time for the house tour. Lots of books, animal skins and other exotic things collected (including what looked like pottery from Fes!). The museum had old photographs of the crowds who gathered on the great lawn in front of the house to listen to Roosevelt talk – quite different from the fenced-off, closed-in White House of today. He and his family spent the whole summer there, including every summer when he was President – another thing that wouldn’t happen today!


The museum (more so than the birthplace) also did a great job of chronicling his life and accomplishments, from early beginnings in New York to the Rough Riders to going out West to politics in New York to the Presidency and National Parks. And the nature path was longer than I expected – through woods and dunes to wetlands and the beach.

The taxi driver on the way over pointed out the cemetery where TR was buried, about a mile away from the house, and I walked over there and called then a taxi to take me back to the train station. The gravesite and tombstone are modest for a president, fenced off but otherwise fitting in with the others there.


The taxi driver on the way back asked me what I noticed about the gravesite. I answered a few things until he finally told me why he was asking – Roosevelt was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, the highest award possible (by Bill Clinton). Turns out the taxi driver’s grandfather was awarded one too, for bravery in WWI. And the taxi driver’s father was awarded one too, for bravery in WWII. And the taxi driver himself was awarded one too, for bravery in Korea (I’m pretty sure he said Korea, because I was expecting him to say Vietnam, given the timing). They are the only three-generation Medal of Honor winners, and they will all be buried in that cemetery. So little Oyster Bay will have more Medal of Honor than almost any other cemetery! And the taxi driver’s son is in Afghanistan now, “but he’s a Ph.D.” Quite an ending to an already full day!