The White House physician, Rear Admiral Ross T. McIntire, seemed content. Recently he had been able to talk his patient into a little extra exerciseoccasional car rides, more frequent dips in the White House pool. The Roosevelt weight was just what the doctor likes: 187 lb.
Then, for no good reason, Franklin Roosevelt woke up one morning with red eyes, a deep, froggy voice, unmistakable sniffles. Admiral McIntire was firm: no appointments. Grumbling, the President went back to bed. After a four-day rest he looked somewhat better, and joked playfully with reporters at his Friday press conference.
He had dined with dreamy,...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
