With sirens shrieking, a swarm of motorcycles shot down Fifth Avenue, Manhattan, and turned west on 57th Street. After them sped a black limousine with secret service men standing like supernumerary footmen on its running boards. A truck full of trunks followed. It was Thursday, March 2, and Citizen Franklin Delano Roosevelt was moving to the White House.

Thursday, March 2, and New Orleans was completely recovered from its Mardi Gras hangover—recovered as if struck by a douche of cold water, for that morning all Louisiana banks had been closed by proclamation....

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