Transcript: Chapter 10

Narrator: Throughout his long struggle with polio, Franklin remained determined to return to politics, but he knew he would have to convince voters that he was not an invalid, and year after year of arduous exercise had not improved his wasted leg muscles.

Hugh Gallagher: He wanted to be president and it was just unthinkable in those days that a person in a wheel chair could be elected president of the United States, and in fact it's pretty unthinkable right now. And so he had to walk. And since he wasn't getting better, he developed better techniques for appearing to look better.

Narrator: In 1926 physiotherapist Alice Converse taught Franklin how to walk more effectively with crutches.

Alice Converse, Physical Therapist: He was very anxious to walk. He would plant the crutches on the floor so hard you would think that the boards would break, and then drag himself along. It had been five years since the onset of polio. His upper body was very strong, but his legs were pretty weak, so we tried to get him to use his body muscles in such a way that they would help lift up a leg at a time and take a step.

Narrator: But crutches weren't good enough. He knew they were political poison. "They would," he said, "inspire pity." He learned instead to appear in public with a cane.

Hugh Gallagher: And he developed this technique that looked like walking. His sons were strong men -- they took exercises so their arms would be as strong as a parallel bar -- and he would lean on one son's arm, putting all his weight on it, and then he would switch his weight from the son's arm onto a cane which he carried in the other hand so that he could switch his weight from side to side and thus progress. And he instructed his sons, "You must not let people see that this is difficult or takes effort or it hurts." They would chat and joke and laugh as they went along -- it was a slow process -- but they looked as though they were taking their time so they could smile at people and say hello to the crowd as they went along. And it was show biz, but it worked.

Narrator: Only four seconds of film exist which clearly show the walk Franklin so tirelessly practiced.

Geoffrey Ward: The goal, really, was simply to take enough steps to get from a car into a building, or from his seat on the stage to the podium and back again. If he could do that without seeming hopelessly crippled, he'd succeeded.

Hugh Gallagher: Roosevelt had no hip muscles, and if a breeze, or someone should jostle him, something like that, he could just pivot and fall down. He was not stable at all. It was not a safe way of locomotion, of moving around. It was not a practical way, but it was a political way.

Narrator: By the summer of 1928 Franklin was ready at last to make his way back into the political world. The Democratic Convention was in Houston and Eleanor had written him, "I'm telling everyone you're going to Houston without crutches." As he boarded the train for Texas, he knew he was about to risk everything.

All through the 1920s, Franklin had kept up his contacts with Democratic Party leaders. Now he'd been asked to nominate the governor of New York, Al Smith, for president. Smith was a tough, worldly Catholic from New York City, and one of his advisers argued, "You're a Bowery mick and he's a Protestant patrician. He'll take some of the curse off you."

With 15,000 delegates watching, Franklin set out to walk to the podium with a cane, without the aid of crutches. An accidental fall would leave him sprawled helplessly on the convention floor, his political hopes destroyed. With one hand he gripped the cane. With the other, he balanced precariously on his son Elliott's powerful arm. He appeared to be walking. One reporter described the scene: "Here on the stage is Franklin Roosevelt, a figure tall and proud even in suffering, pale with years of struggle against paralysis, a man softened and cleansed and illumined with pain. For the moment we are lifted up."

Franklin D. Roosevelt (archival): We offer one who has the will to win, who not only deserves success, but commands it. Victory is his habit -- the happy warrior, Alfred E. Smith.

Narrator: The nomination was Al Smith's but the victory belonged to Franklin Roosevelt. When Smith urged him to run for governor of New York, Roosevelt said he was ready. Someone asked Smith why he'd put Roosevelt back in the political limelight. "Aren't you raising up a rival who will one day cause you trouble?" "No," Smith replied, "he'll be dead within a year."

Six months later, Smith had lost his run for the presidency and Roosevelt was governor of New York. Roosevelt won office by the slimmest of margins, campaigning more vigorously than anyone expected. Now, as governor, he would continue to surprise everyone. He took command at once. In his first six months, he advocated tax relief for farmers and cheap electric power for consumers, but when disaster suddenly struck the economy, no one was sure what Roosevelt would do.

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