Transcript: Chapter 05

Narrator: In the early 1900s, the Roosevelts appeared to be an utterly conventional upper-class couple, with Franklin amiably dabbling in the law, but at 25, he was bored and restless, looking for an outlet for his enormous energies. To a fellow law clerk, he confided a remarkable secret ambition.

Grenville Clark, Law Clerk: He said he intended to enter political life as soon as he could, with a view to becoming president. He said that modestly enough but very definitely, and he laid out a definite plan.

Narrator: Franklin told Clark he would follow the path blazed by his hero, Theodore Roosevelt: state legislature, assistant secretary of the Navy, governor of New York, president of the United States. Cousin Theodore had already proved that a gentleman might, as Franklin's mother said, "go into politics but not be a politician."

Geoffrey Ward: Theodore Roosevelt was almost an obsession with Franklin. When he was told he had to wear glasses, he got pince-nez and put them on his nose, because Theodore Roosevelt wore pince-nez. He would say things like, "bully," and "dee-lighted," when he was talking to the press early in his political career. He was fascinated by his energy, his enthusiasm, above all, I think, in his feeling that government could do enormous amounts of good. Theodore Roosevelt was the great model for Franklin Roosevelt.

Narrator: In 1910 at the age of 28, Franklin jumped at the chance to follow in his cousin Theodore's footsteps. He was invited to run for the state senate, mostly because his last name was Roosevelt. He ran as a Democrat, although T.R. was a Republican.

Geoffrey Ward: His father had been a Democrat, but I think the real reason was that Theodore Roosevelt had several sons, all of whom, everyone presumed, were going to have political careers in the Republican Party, and there was simply not enough room for another Republican Roosevelt.

Eleanor Roosevelt (archival): He was offered the impossible task of running for office in Duchess County. No Democrat had ever been elected in 32 years. He wasn't a very good speaker in those early days. There would be horrible long pauses, and I would wonder whether he was ever going on again. He made a very vigorous campaign, and it just happening that that year was a Democratic sweep and he got in. Otherwise, I don't think he would have started then at all.

Narrator: Franklin celebrated by handing out $14 worth of good cigars. In Albany in the rough-and-tumble world of state politics, he began his career in the style of his cousin Theodore. Within days of being sworn in, he led a rebellion against the leadership of his own party. He lost and the bosses never forgave him.

Geoffrey Ward: Party regulars couldn't stand him. They thought he was rich, spoiled, unwilling to compromise or cooperate -- a snob.

Narrator: "This fellow is still young," one of them said, "Wouldn't it be safer to drown him before he grows up?" To survive, Franklin would need help, and he turned to a shrewd, strange-looking reporter, Louis Howe.

Curtis Roosevelt: I remember the smell of Louis Howe more than anything else -- a gnome, gaunt, short wispy hair -- I mean, enough to scare a child, and I was.

Blanche Wiesen Cook: He's dirty. He never showers or bathes enough. He smokes these dreadful, smelly Sweet Caporal cigarettes and the ashes, you know, sort of coat his vest and tie.

Narrator: Franklin's mother especially disliked him. "That dirty little man," she called him. Eleanor, too, disapproved.

Blanche Wiesen Cook: They want him out. He represents the worst, the smelliest, you know, stuff of politics. He drinks, he smokes, he curses. He's a pain. Out of there.

Curtis Roosevelt: But still Louis Howe was a seasoned politician. As you might say, he knew where all the bodies were buried, and FDR needed to know.

Narrator: Together Howe and Franklin formed one of the oddest alliances in American political history. It would last until Howe's death in 1936. "I was so impressed with Franklin Roosevelt," Howe liked to say of their first meeting, "I thought then nothing but an accident could keep him from becoming president of the United States."

In 1913, after only two years in Albany, the Democratic state senator with the famous last name was summoned to Washington. Impressed by his growing reputation as a reform Democrat and by Franklin's pedigree, President Woodrow Wilson offered him the job of assistant secretary of the Navy, the same job that Theodore Roosevelt had used to catapult himself to the presidency. He was just 31 years old.

Franklin loved the Navy. He pressed for the largest possible fleet, learned to deal with Congress, businessmen, labor, and he built a reputation as enthusiastic, efficient, hard working. But just as he began to walk the corridors of real power, first he put his job and then his marriage in jeopardy.

Blanche Wiesen Cook: Washington for Franklin is a great liberation. You know, he never had a teenage rebellion. He never had a moment where he defied his mother or his wife. He had really been a dutiful son and he'd really been a dutiful husband. Washington blew all that out of the water, if I may use a naval term for the assistant secretary of the Navy.

Narrator: He was a young man on the make. He worked for Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels, and he wanted his job -- ridiculed him behind his back, undermined his decisions.

Geoffrey Ward: FDR worked as a subordinate under Josephus Daniels for almost eight years, and he was a terrible subordinate. I think he simply couldn't stand the notion that someone was giving him orders about something he was quite sure he knew much more about. Roosevelt undercut his boss time and again. He went over his head to the president from time to time, and Daniels put up with all of it.

Narrator: Daniels said he enjoyed Franklin's spontaneity and gaiety, imagining great things for him. When they looked at their picture taken together, Daniels told him, "I'll tell you why you're smiling. We're both looking down on the White House, and you're saying to yourself, 'Someday I will be living in that house.'" Franklin just kept smiling.

Geoffrey Ward: Daniels thought Roosevelt a wonderfully charming young man and, I think, must have been the most patient man in American history, because any other man would have fired Roosevelt for insubordination early on.

Narrator: At the same time, Franklin's marriage was heading for trouble.

Curtis Roosevelt: It was not a happy household. FDR enjoyed himself, he enjoyed having a good time, and unfortunately, he couldn't get my grandmother to go along. She actually disapproved. She had moral reservations, is the only way I can put it, about really enjoying herself.

Narrator: Eleanor was caught in what she described as the slavery of the Washington social system, dutifully advancing her husband's career. Overwhelmed with social obligations, she spent her days leaving her calling cards at the stately homes of the rich and powerful. "I was perfectly certain," Eleanor later wrote, "that I had nothing to offer, and that my duty as the wife of a public official was to do exactly as the majority of women were doing."

Doris Kearns Goodwin: And suddenly the most important thing is to be part of the social whirl of Washington, D.C., which is essentially a round of cocktail parties, trivial conversation, the very thing that Eleanor hates. Franklin finds out that he's incredibly well suited for the small talk, gossipy side of Washington life. He's a great conversationalist, he loves telling stories, he loves small talk and he loves that kind of superficial connection between people; and his vitality and his magnetism are beginning to show.

Narrator: Franklin was especially attractive to women. One Washington hostess described him as the most desirable man she had ever met.

Every summer, the Roosevelts seemed to find relief from the strains of Washington on an island off the coast of Maine -- Campobello. "We spent so little time alone with our parents," their eldest son James later wrote, "that those times are treasured as though gifts from the gods. Father loved life on the island more than any of us, but got to spend the least time there. Mother always liked it because she had her own home, which she ran. Father taught us to sail. This was the one activity he loved above all others, and wanted us to love."

But as summer after summer went by, Franklin spent less and less time at Campobello. Eleanor grew anxious and suspicious. In the summer of 1917, Franklin wrote from Washington to calm her: "Dearest Babs, you are a goosey girl to think or even pretend to think that I don't want you here all summer, because you know I do. But honestly, you ought to have six weeks straight at Campo, just as I ought to, only you can and I can't."

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