Medford mail tribune., April 03, 1960, Image 42

The nation's first family takes a cruise. Dad and Grandma hold Mary Jean, 4; next are Susan Elaine, 8, Mommy, and David, 12; Barbara Anne, 11, stands next to Grandpa.
value is double-edged; it consists of his own high
capabilities he thinks clearly and writes well
and of the very fact that he is the President's son.
The Presidency is a lonely job. Even high-placed
officials 'yes' the President when they should say
'no.' John,, on the other hand, is completely frank
and is a safe depository of the President's trust."
The habit of confidence between the President
and his only son is very old. From the time
John was old enough to wash himself, he enjoyed
far-ranging bathroom discussions with his father.
While John washed and Ike shaved, they discussed
everything from military tactics to morals.
Strong, too, is the habit of father and son shar
ing important public moments. They were together
on V-K Day. And when Stalin invited Ike to
Russia, John went along as an aide. Asked for a
toast, he amazed the five-star generals, marshals,
and admirals, who had been toasting each other,
by proposing a toast to "the common soldier."
Barbara, too, has newly assumed a public im
portance. She always has stood in the back
ground the smiling, gracious member of the first
family, with no particular role to play. Now, since
accompanying her father-in-law on his 22,000-mile
"pilgrimage in quest of peace," she has emerged
from the wings and taken a place on the world stage.
And, though officially she was not a stand-in for
Mamie Eisenhower, that became her role. Every
where she made a good impression.
Yet behind the glamour is a normal daily life.
John, always a hard worker, arrives at his White
House office about 7:50 a.m. and leaves around
6:30 p.m. "On occasion," he says, "this gives me
the opportunity to visit with friends in the eve
ning, but usually I'm ready for bed."
He tries to harness his time so he can cope with
a long working day, meet some of the social de
mands upon him, and have some fun with his four
children David, 12, Barbara Anne, 11, Susan
Elaine, 8, and Mary Jean, 4. 'To find time for
everything is the trick of the week," he says, "and
I'm not entirely successful."
Unable to commute from Washington, he gets
home to Gettysburg only on week ends. Until
recently, he shared a Washington apartment with
a former West Point classmate, then he moved
temporarily into a room on the third floor of the
White House. "I have had no occasion to make
other arrangements, since I am away very much of
the time on trips," he says.
Barbara, "a weekday widow," has become part
of the Gettysburg community. She is a Red
Cross worker, an activity that grew out of her
work in the Junior League in Washington. She also
took a three-week course as a nurse's aide and
now contributes a full day every two weeks to the
local hospital.
When John is at Gettysburg, Barbara and he
entertain informally, usually buffet-style. They
may have dinner parties of eight to ten people,
usually Army friends.
Vhen the children have parties, John makes
sure that the parties are simple. He wants no child
to be able to point to some expensive gift and
say, "See what I got at the Eisenhowers'."
Barbara has only part-time help with the house
work. She likes to sew but says she never has time
for it. She enjoys cooking, too, and does her own.
As for the children,"All four are individualists,"
Barbara says. "David's main interest is sports,
whatever is in season. Anne takes ballet lessons,
and Susan rides horseback. The two older children
David and Anne also ride horseback, but less
enthusiastically. Anne is taking violin lessons, and
all the children are fond of the piano."
John has entrusted the details of child-rearing
to Barbara and steps in only when there is need
for stern discipline. As parents, they are permis
sive up to a point. Ultimately, however, the chil
dren must do as they are told.
An only child himself, John wanted a large fam
ily. Overprotected in his own childhood, he also
wanted his children to be given independence. And
because their grandfather's house is the White
House, he has tried to keep them as far from the
spotlight as possible. Following the birth of Mary
Jean, a reporter asked John whether he would
have preferred to have her born at the White
House rather than at Walter Reed Hospital. Some
what testily, he replied that the White House could
hardly match Walter Reed's obstetrical facilities.
With Grandpa and Grandma Eisenhower, the
children, especially David, enjoy a gay camarad
erie. They see Barbara's parents, the Percy
Thompsons, who now live in Gainesville, Fla., less
often but nonetheless enthusiastically.
Thirteen years of marriage now are behind the
younger Eisenhowers. They met after the war
while John was serving with the occupation forces
in Vienna. One night at a supper party, he met
one of the 12 American girls working in the city
Barbara Jean Thompson, daughter of an Army
colonel and, by her own description, "the only
CAF-1 (a typist of the lowest rank) in the whole
European theater." They began to see a great deal
of each other, and soon John sent Mamie a cable
asking her to ship a miniature of his West Point
class ring.
John's parents knew what that request meant,
although he had not mentioned Barbara in his
letters. Ike had similarly ordered a class ring in
his own courtship of Mamie. Some weeks later,,
the Eisenhowers received a transatlantic telephone
call from John, introducing them to their future
daughter-in-law.
John and Barbara enjoy a good marriage, not
only because they have a great deal in common,
but also because they balance each other. She is
more outgoing and less inhibited than he. John
has never been an athlete, though he likes golf
and frequently plays with his father at Burning
Tree Country Club near Washington and in Gettys
burg. Barbara is a good sportswoman and likes to
play golf, swim, play tennis, and ride horseback.
"She's not a small-town girl," says George Horkan,
but she's also no Long Island sophisticate."
(Continued;
Family Weekly, April , 1M0
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