111: The Assassination of Will McKinley & The Strenuous Life of Theodore Roosevelt
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Thomas Alva Edison, the Wizard of Menlo Park, as he was known, made a recent appearance in our Origin of the Movies episode.

because in addition to the electric light and countless other inventions, he also gave us the motion picture camera. It reminded me that Edison didn't do well in the traditional school classroom when he was a boy. This prolific inventor and successful businessman learned better at home. At school, it's reported that he'd likely be lost in thought. His mother, Nancy, recognized a different approach to learning was required for her son. And the rest is history. As a parent, I appreciate that.

because each of my own three children are different. They each learn in different ways, and I want them to thrive at whatever they choose to do later in life. One learning option for kids today is K-12. K-12 powered schools are accredited, tuition-free online public schools for students in kindergarten through 12th grade. K-12 can help your child reach their full potential and give you the support you need to get them there.

This is different from homeschooling, where you are responsible for teaching them. K-12 powered schools have state certified teachers, specially trained in teaching online.

So join the more than 2 million families who have chosen K-12 and empower your student to reach their full potential now. Go to k12.com slash HTDS today to learn more and find a tuition-free K-12 powered school near you. That's the letter K, the number 12 dot com slash HTDS. K-12 dot com slash HTDS. ♪

It's Friday afternoon, September 6th, 1901, and thousands, if not tens of thousands of people are at the Pan American Exposition in Buffalo, New York. It's an impressive event. Visitors walk amid gorgeous fountains, watch mock battles in a 12,000 seat stadium, and delight at the sight of a 410 foot electronic tower. That last one is particularly stunning when lit up at night, and Thomas Alva Edison's film studio is capturing the site as a moving picture.

And of course, the theme to this expo, Pan-Americanism, really lands with many in the wake of the Spanish-American War. The United States' acquisition of Puerto Rico and larger role in Cuba has created more interest in the world south of the border. Hence President William McKinley's excitement about the expo. The Republican president has been here since Wednesday, speaking and participating in events. And now he's heading to the domed, Italian Renaissance-inspired Temple of Music to shake hands with visitors.

So what are we waiting for? Let's go meet him. At about 4 p.m., the cleft-chinned, barrel-chested, 5'7 president enters the building through a side door and takes his place, ready to greet visitors. A small girl and her father are first in line. William bends down, gently shaking the girl's hand, then smiles and waves at her as the pleased parent and child walk off. A short, dark-haired, mustachioed gentleman follows.

His glowering appearance puts the Secret Service on edge, but their concern is unfounded. He passes by the President without incident. Third in line is a dark-haired, thin man whose right hand is completely enveloped by a handkerchief. Huh. William figures the poor fellow is injured and extends his left hand, but this visitor isn't here to shake. Two bullets tear into the President's body.

Seconds feel like an eternity as all in the room realize this man, a 28-year-old anarchist named Leon Sholgosh, isn't using his handkerchief to conceal an injured right hand. He's using it to conceal a .32 caliber double barrel Derringer-style handgun. And he's just shot the President of the United States. The force of the gun throws William McKinley backward. Detective John Geary catches him. The shocked yet calm President asks, Am I shot?

The detective opens the commander-in-chief's vest. Blood is flowing. He answers, "I fear you are, Mr. President." But Will isn't thinking of himself right now. Turning to his personal secretary, George Cortelliu, the blanching president ekes out, "My wife, be careful, Cortelliu. How you tell her, 'Oh, be careful.'" Will then notices his assailant's situation.

Seized immediately by Secret Service agents S.R. Ireland and Albert Gallagher and a nearby African-American waiter named James Parker, Leon is on the ground, and enraged officers are handling him roughly. The president speaks up again. Let no one hurt him. 4.18 p.m. The ambulance arrives at the exposition's emergency hospital. Surgeons are quickly on the scene. The first bullet appears to have barely passed through Will's ribcage. Good!

The second, however, which went straight into the president's gut, has no exit wound. Oh God. This calls for immediate surgery. Aether is administered as Will mutters the Lord's prayer. Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

At this exact moment, Vice President Theodore Roosevelt is a few hundred miles distant in northern Vermont at former Governor Nelson W. Fisk's home on Isle Lamotte in Lake Champlain. He came here to visit with the Vermont Fish and Game League, and now the mustachioed, bespectacled VP is just outside the house, not giving a second thought to the telephone ringing inside. Not until Nelson Fisk walks out, that is. The ashen-faced former governor motions to Teddy to come in.

The phone call is brief. Teddy and his aides depart at once to join the gravely wounded president in Buffalo. President Will McKinley survives his hour-and-a-half ordeal under the knife. The surgeons are able to clean up the wounds and suture the holes in his stomach. But that second bullet is still in there, somewhere near the pancreas. Now, the nation waits, watches, and prays. September 8th. No signs of infection.

September 10th, the wounded commander-in-chief manages to drink beef broth. Reassured by doctors, Teddy even leaves William's bedside to join his family in the Adirondacks. September 11th, Will gets some toast down. He really seems on the up and up. Until two days later, that is. The second bullet may not have hit the president's pancreas, but it traumatized the organ enough to cause damage all the same. Bedridden, Will tells his doctors that it's useless.

He asks for prayer and his wife, Ida. She enters the room, takes Will's hand and kisses him. Will looks out at the friends and family in the room. Faintly, he speaks, goodbye, goodbye, all. Will then turns to Ida, softly, he whispers, it is God's way, his will, not ours be done. Ida stares at her husband of 30 years. This is too soon, they're only in their 50s.

Why must she lose her devoted partner? This man who's helped her through countless seizures, who as governor of Ohio, stepped out of the Capitol every day at 3 p.m. to raise his hat to her as she looked on from their window. He is the best of husbands and Ida can't imagine life without him. She replies softly, I want to go with you. Faithful Christian to the end, Will reassures her of their future reunion. We are all going, my dear.

Will continues to fade. Weakly, he breathes out the words of a hymn. "Nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee, even though it cross." Only hours later, at 2:15 a.m., Saturday, September 14th, 1901, the former Union soldier, U.S. Congressman, Governor of Ohio, the current U.S. President and family man, William McKinley, breathes his last breath.

The burden and mantle of American leadership now falls to the rough-riding vice president feared by so many within his own party, Theodore Roosevelt. Welcome to History That Doesn't Suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and I'd like to tell you a story. Abraham Lincoln

James Garfield, and now William McKinley. For the third time in barely more than three decades, an assassin's bullet has killed the sitting president of the United States. Both VPs who filled the void in the first two cases had less than stellar records. It's a daunting role to fill, yet that is precisely what Theodore Roosevelt is about to do.

Now, we've already heard quite a few tales about this New Yorker in past episodes. But before we see how TR fares in the White House, let's really get to know him. Today, I want to tell you Teddy's origin story. We'll first meet Teddy as a child, as frail, asthmatic little TD. Then follow him to Harvard, the New York State Legislature, and into heartbreak as he experiences inordinate loss. Warning you now, you'll want tissue.

We'll next follow the New Yorker out West for his cowboy transformation. Back East as a New York police commissioner. Then listen as the Spanish-American war hero and governor preaches the virtues of the strenuous life. And of course, I'll briefly point out the major life events we've covered in past episodes before we finish by returning to that grave scene of uncertainty, the recent death of President Will McKinley. Much to do, a strenuous episode, if you will. So let's get to it.

We begin by going four decades back. Ready? Ah, that's bully. Here we go. Rewind. It's a somber, gray afternoon, April 25th, 1865. A countless sea of New Yorkers, cloaked in black, solemnly line their city's famous thoroughfare, known as Broadway. The heartbroken crowd is out today to mourn the loss of their recently assassinated president, Abraham Lincoln.

Tears flow freely as wave after wave of blue-clad soldiers parade by. Their numbers include several hundred black servicemen. Protected by police, these proud Civil War veterans march with a large banner reading, "Two Million of Bondsmen. He Liberty Gave." But the heartbroken citizens aren't contained to the street. Upstairs, in the star-spangled, pro-Union decorated buildings, others peer down from their windows.

This includes a multi-story mansion at the corner of Broadway and 14th Street, belonging to one of the Big Apple's total of 10 millionaire residents, Cornelius von Schock Roosevelt. Not that he's the one looking down at this moment. His second-story window is occupied by a few small children, his grandchildren, five-year-old Elliot, and his older, sickly brother, who on occasion suffers debilitating asthma attacks, Theodore Jr., or, as his family calls him, T.D.,

The two brothers are also joined by one not in their family, their three-year-old friend, Edith Caro. The three gaze down at the funeral procession below, but it proves a bit too much for little Edith. Seeing all the black drapery and countless people sobbing, the three-year-old begins to cry as well. So what do the boys do? Well, not wanting to hear her sobs, they push her into a back room. Yep, kids. Returning to their window, the two boys look down again at the gloomy scene.

T.D. sees it. Sixteen gray horses pulling a black-draped, neoclassical dome-topped, star-spangled catafalque. Upon it rests the long coffin holding the six-foot-four remains of the Illinois rail splitter. Young T.D. is perhaps a bit too young to grasp the full scope of this moment, but he understands enough. He knows that this man was a great president, one who fought hard to save the country he loved.

He knows his father, Theodore Roosevelt Sr., ardently supported and was good friends with Honest Abe. Even at this young, tender age, conversations with family might have helped him to understand that it will be hard, if even possible, for another larger-than-life figure to fill Lincoln's presidential shoes. But there's a lot this blue-eyed, red-headed six-year-old doesn't know. He doesn't know that one day, he'll marry the three-year-old whom he just hid in the back room, Edith.

He doesn't know that his little brother Elliot will die young, but not without first fathering a girl named Eleanor, who will be like a daughter to him and later become a celebrated first lady. Lastly, this small asthmatic boy most certainly doesn't know that he himself will one day become a larger than life figure and in his own unique way, step into Lincoln's shoes as a future president of the United States.

Now, President is a long shot for anyone, yet there's plenty of reason to have great expectations of little T.D. For starters, he's a Roosevelt. Or perhaps I should say, Rosenfeldt, since this Dutch-American family came to New York when it was still New Amsterdam. In the more than 200 years since then, the family has developed two major branches, the Oyster Bay and Hyde Park Roosevelts. Both have successful, influential members and will produce notable 20th century presidents.

But we won't get ahead of ourselves with the Hyde Park clans yet to be born Franklin, or FDR. We'll just note that connection as we continue with the tale of his Oyster Bay fifth cousin, T.D. The second of four children and his successful philanthropist father's namesake, T.D.'s fighting spirit shines through even as a child. His first great opponent is asthma.

This chronic lung respiratory disease can leave young TD wheezing for hours, sometimes even days. Yet, despite these terrifying bouts, he remains gregarious, warm, and intellectually curious, particularly drawn to natural history and even taxonomy as he categorizes all the small reptiles and rodents he brings home. Another early opponent of his are bullies. A group of boys begins to bully young, asthmatic, physically weak TR, but he doesn't take this lying down.

T.D. decides to take matters into his own hands, and he'll later recall, I made up my mind that I must try to learn so that I would not again be put in such a helpless position. And having become quickly and bitterly conscious that I did not have the natural prowess to hold my own, I decided that I would try to supply its place by training. Accordingly, with my father's hearty approval, I started to learn to box.

It's through boxing and other vigorous forms of exercise that the weak child begins to change himself into an athlete with the physical strength to take on bullies. And take note of that desire to take on and fight off bullies. That trait will have a sizable impact on his future choices. But don't think that TD is forgetting to develop his mind as he learns the value of hard physical exercise. In 1876, he enrolls at Harvard University as an undergraduate.

He excels in the natural sciences and asks so many questions it annoys some of his professors. But sadly, T.R. is also devastated two years later as stomach cancer takes his still rather young father. The man was his hero. And T.R. will later say of him, My father was the best man I ever knew. Yet, the hard-working boxing and rowing athlete manages to continue with his studies and graduates in 1880.

Graduation isn't the only major milestone in this year of T.D.'s life, or Teddy, as he's increasingly called, despite hating that nickname. He also gets engaged to a kind, beautiful woman with long, wavy golden hair and blue-gray eyes, Alice Hathaway Lee. They marry on Theodore's 22nd birthday, October 27th, 1880. ♪

Before the year's out, Teddy also begins studying law at Columbia and soon starts spending his free time writing a book, "The Naval War of 1812." He'll finish it in a few years and it'll be so good that the Navy Academy will later make it required reading. In 1881, the young happy couple interrupts this life to honeymoon in Europe.

Yet, TR also interrupts that honeymoon to break away briefly from his new wife so he can climb the over 14,000 foot Swiss Alp wonder that is the Matterhorn. Because, you know, that's a normal thing to do on your honeymoon. Joking aside, the excursion itself demonstrates Alice's patience and Teddy's draw to the outdoors and intense demanding challenges. But further, between riding serious history, overcoming his physical weaknesses, and summiting mountains,

It really seems there's little TR can't do. That holds true as he turns his eye toward politics. Returning home, Theodore drops out of law school to run as a Republican to represent the 21st District in the New York State Legislature. The 23-year-old Roosevelt wins. Despite his youth, TR's reputation in the Albany-based assembly rises, as he puts it, like a rocket. He thereafter continues to get reelected, and soon, Alice is pregnant. They're going to have a child.

The future looks bright for Theodore Roosevelt, but it's amazing how quickly fortunes can turn. It's a sunny morning, February 13th, 1884, at the state capitol in Albany, New York. Assemblyman Theodore Roosevelt's fellow lawmakers are all crowding in to shake his hand and celebrate him. And why wouldn't they? Life is good for the up-and-coming Republican. TR's fight for greater transparency among some of the state's corrupt actors has seen significant breakthroughs in recent days.

In fact, his Roosevelt Bill, which would empower the mayor of New York City to make appointments without the blessing of Tammany Hall-Bott, shadow operating alderman, looks sure to pass. Seems Teddy's got the world in his hands today. Yet, that's not why his fellow state legislators are so happy for him. It's because TR just received a telegram stating that his wife Alice gave birth to their first child, a baby girl, just last night.

Sure, Teddy would have preferred if his little girl could have waited until he made it back to NYC, but no matter. His mother is visiting now to care for Alice and the baby, so everything should be okay. He requests a leave of absence to return home and spend time with his newborn and dearly beloved wife. But for the remainder of the day, he'll stay focused on his work. Several hours pass. It's now late afternoon, and Teddy receives a second telegram.

As he reads, onlookers will later say the young assemblyman's face completely changes. He looks, they'll say, worn. Without any hesitation or further thoughts toward his Roosevelt bill, the young legislator jumps up, leaves the Capitol and races to the train station. He's gone from the euphoria and glow of becoming a father to being sick to his stomach. The telegram reports that both his wife, Alice, and his mother, Mitty, are sick.

and it looks like neither of them are long for this world. It's now 5:30 p.m. Teddy boards an express train back down to New York City. This conqueror of the unconquerable, the asthmatic who summited the Matterhorn, even he finds his can-do attitude is failing. All he can do now is reread the first telegram telling him he's a father, and the second, claiming that his wife and mother alike have one foot in the grave.

I can only imagine how the young, mustachioed assemblyman's heart must race with horror as he endures the 145-mile, five-hour journey through the foggy evening back home. 10.30 p.m. Teddy's train pulls into Grand Central Depot, the predecessor of Grand Central Station.

He disembarks and squints under moonlight and blanketed fog, relying on dim street lamps to find his way to the home he partly grew up in and that his father left to him, located at 6 West 57th Street. At last, he finds it. The brownstone is cloaked in darkness, save for the glow of a gas lamp on the third floor. Teddy's brother, Elliot, greets him as he enters. He tells Teddy, "There is a curse on this house. Mother is dying and Alice is dying too.

Tiara sends the stairs to find his beloved wife, Alice, semi-comatose. She can barely remember him. Like current president, Chester Arthur, Alice is suffering from a kidney inflammation known as Bright's disease, and giving birth has likely exacerbated her condition. For hours, Teddy cradles his sweet wife in his arms, hoping against hope that she'll survive. Midnight arrives. It's February 14th, Valentine's Day.

which is also the anniversary of Teddy and Alice's engagement. What a moment of joy that was four years ago. It's now 2:00 AM. Still clinging to his beloved Alice, Tiar receives painful news from downstairs. "Come bid your mother farewell or lose the chance." Not yet even 50 years of age, this dark haired, gentle Southern Belle from Georgia is suffering from acute typhoid fever.

Teddy takes in this last hour with his widowed mother until she passes at 3:00 AM. Young Theodore has now lost both of his parents. He can't help but agree with his brother. There is a curse on this house. Yet, no time to grieve as a son. He's still clinging to his last thread of hope as a husband. Teddy heads back upstairs to hold his wife. A few more hours pass. The morning's light barely cuts through the city's dense fog. No matter.

In the hours since his mother's death, Theodore has neither slept nor let Alice leave his strong yet tender grasp. By mid-morning, a hard rain begins to fall. It's as though the heavens themselves weep for the Roosevelts. But the day's mercurial weather continues to change as clouds and an unbearable humidity come in. Then finally, at two in the afternoon, less than 12 hours since his mother's death, his wife, his Valentine, she too gives up the ghost.

Teddy doesn't give a thorough account of the profound double loss he's just experienced. But frankly, what he briefly puts on a single page conveys everything we need to know. He scratches an X on the paper labeled February 14th. Underneath it, he scribbles a single eight-word sentence. The light has gone out of my life.

with his heart shattered. 25-year-old parentless widower, newly a father, Theodore, is at a loss for what to do. Does he parent his newborn daughter without his mother or wife? Should he arrange for her care and return to his state legislative responsibilities in Albany? Or will he find new light in his life somewhere else between the doubtless sobs falling at 6 West 57th Street? Teddy, it seems,

is hearing the call of the wild. Are you earning and investing in the stock market? In real estate? How about in relationships? Are you earning and investing in your life?

I'm Doc G, semi-retired hospice physician and host of the Earn and Invest podcast, where we have the 201 or next level conversations about money and life. Not only how you make money and grow it, but also how you use your wealth to create a better and more fulfilling existence. Join us every Monday and Thursday wherever you listen to fine podcasts. It's a cold, dreary night, September 11th, 1884.

and the young cowboy, Theodore Roosevelt, has made a makeshift camp in a valley by a small brook in the Wyoming and Montana Territories' Bighorn Mountains. Joining Teddy under the stars is ranch hand Arthur William "Bill" Merrifield. Both men are exhausted. It's been another long day of hunting in the mountains, and yet Teddy can't seem to fall asleep. Surely, the musical calls of the bull elk coming from the surrounding woods aren't helping, but what's really got him tied up in knots are the stories of old Ephraim.

the lord of the wilderness in these parts, otherwise known as a grizzly bear. As Teddy and Bill begin to doze off, all of the sudden, a low rumble comes from the woods behind them. Their frightened horses begin to neigh and snort as Teddy stirs and grabs his weapon. Even in his dazed state, he knows what that rumble means. A grizzly bear, likely not seeing the fire, has made its way near the camp.

The rudimentary campfire set up in this valley hardly sheds enough light for the two men to see where the bear is. But thankfully, the bear eventually lets out another grunt, then begins to move away from the campsite. A close one. The camp is safe. Yet, as we've come to know from how he's approached asthma, politics, the Matterhorn, and more, Teddy isn't the sort of man to back down from a fight. And so it is with the hunt.

He chases after the bear through the woods in the darkness until he realizes how foolhardy this adventure is becoming. Old Ephraim would make quick work of the tired hunter, especially at night. Tiara returns to camp empty-handed, but anxious to take the old grizzly head on. The next morning, September 12th, Teddy and Bill begin scouring for bear tracks on the hunt for Old Ephraim.

Up above, pines dot the sides of the mountains surrounding them, while the lower levels of this valley are filled with berry bushes. Knowing that bears love the small, delectable fruit, the two cowboys stick to this path, and sure enough, they find the animals' tracks scattered around the base of the bushes. But that's nothing compared to what they find next. Arriving at the location of a black bear carcass killed by Bill the ranch hand several days prior, they find evidence that grizzlies have devoured it.

Hardly a scrap is left of the hunted animal, and the two men now know that some grizzlies with full bellies and potentially old Ephraim are nearby. Come late afternoon, the two make their way to the body of a bull elk Teddy shot a few days ago. Same situation here. Bear tracks are all around the consumed carcass, as are all the other attendant signs of an animal feeding. Looking up at the trees above them, a conspiracy of cawing ravens has gathered to pick at old Ephraim's leftovers.

Teddy knows the grizzly he's hunting has to be around here somewhere. Hoping that old Ephraim will return, Teddy takes Bill to a tree that's collapsed against another, leaving it angled toward the ground. The two men clamber up its tilted dead trunk in their moccasins. They then train their rifles on the elk carcass, waiting ever so quietly for the grizzly's return. But their patience is only greeted by the sounds of the autumn forest in the waning hours of the day.

With no sign of old Ephraim and darkness beginning to creep up on them, the mustachioed New York assemblyman turned Dakota Badlands rancher comes down from the tree and heads toward the edge of the woods. Here in the twilight, amid the hoots of the owls and the call of lynx and wolverines, the men see the golden hour, orange, reddish lights reflecting off the Big Horn River below and the snow-capped mountains above. It's a breathtaking experience.

one that Teddy could never have had amid the hustle and bustle of Manhattan. But now is not the time to take in the grandeur of the American West. No, because as the darkness sets in, the two men hear the loud snap of a dead tree branch behind them, right next to Teddy's bull elk carcass. Then, after a minute of silence, they hear a large animal brushing by twigs in the same vicinity. Once again, the night has proven to be old Ephraim's ally.

Aware that they can't overtake the bear by moonlight alone, the duo set up camp. But Teddy isn't about to lose two days in a row. No, tomorrow he will find old Ephraim and prove himself a true mountain man. The next morning, September 13th, the two men once again make their way to the carcass. Breathing the thin mountain air, the once asthmatic young lad turned mountain man looks down at the fresh bear tracks surrounding his devoured elk. Old Ephraim can't have left long before.

So, with Bill leading the way, they start to follow the grizzly's tracks through the dense, dark forest where hardly any sunlight gets through. Their moccasin-covered feet slowly step over pine and moss, inching their way closer and closer to the bear's den. Each little sound on either side, from the lightest caw of a raven to the wind in the woods, causes Teddy's hair to stand on edge.

After all, at this moment, they are engaged in a life or death contest. One in which it's unclear as to who is the hunter and who is the prey. The tracks turn off the main path and the men soon approach several boulders, some fallen trees and dense brush. Passing the stem of a pine, Bill kneels down and looks back at Teddy, his face aflame with excitement. There, about 25 feet away, is the grizzly, old Ephraim.

Teddy estimates the great brown beast at about 1,200 pounds and over nine feet long. Incredible, but there's no time to lose. Their approach caused old Ephraim to stir from his slumber. The powerful animal now sits up and makes eye contact with these badasses of the Badlands. Then all at once, the gargantuan bear rears itself up on its hind legs and emits a low grumble.

Teddy chambers around in his model 1876 Winchester. His face has gone white, yet still, Teddy looks steadfastly down the barrel. Old Ephraim returns T.R.'s stare and drops back down on all fours. This is the decisive moment. Keeping his rifle trained right between the half a ton beast's eyes, Teddy pulls the trigger. Fearing that one bullet won't be enough to fell Old Ephraim, the New Yorker immediately jumps out of the way. But it wasn't necessary. T.R.'s aim was true.

He struck the bear right between the eyes, thus taking out old Ephraim, the bear that had evaded white and Native American hunters alike in a single shot. In the cool air of the Bighorns, elite East Coast politician Theodore Roosevelt has proven himself to be every bit as much a mountain man of the West. I know.

On some level, it's hard to believe this is the same Theodore Roosevelt whom we met as a sickly, weak, asthmatic child growing up as an elite, wealthy, big apple city slicker. But beyond his childhood love of nature, we've also seen his drive and determination to overcome challenges, perhaps revel in challenges even, from the Matterhorn to fighting New York corruption. And in that regard, TR is well-suited to the life of a mountain man and cowboy.

After Alice's death, Teddy retreated into a bit of despair that was exacerbated by the rough-and-tumble 1884 Republican National Convention. Despite making good friends with the then-chair of the Massachusetts Republican Party, Henry Cabot Lodge, Teddy was hesitant to support the Republican nominee, James Blaine from Maine.

He did so, thus helping his political future by demonstrating his loyalty to the Republican Party. But the spoiled system style of Gilded Age politics is leaving a bad taste in TR's mouth. With these two experiences in mind, Teddy made his way out west to the badlands of the Dakota Territory. He had invested a sizable $14,000 into a ranch with local partners while on a hunting trip out here last year. But now he's throwing himself full force into his own place called Elkhorn Ranch.

The crisp mountain air is proving just what the doctor ordered for T.R. With his sister, Bami, acting a surrogate mother to his daughter, Alice Lee, or Sweet Baby Lee, as her father calls her, because it pains him to utter his deceased wife's name. T.R. is hunting, ranching, horseback riding, and even contending with bandits.

He wins a bar fight. You know Teddy, the man can't abide a bully. And, as a Billings County deputy sheriff, pursues and captures some men who stole his boat. Through all of this, his mental health is improving. Teddy bounces between his Dakota Territory ranching life and New York for the next couple of years. In 1886, he runs for New York City mayor as a Republican against Democrat Abram Hewitt and Socialist Henry George.

He loses to the Dems candidate, but it's still a big year for TR. He remarries, with a mostly mended heart. This is when he finds love in the arms of the woman with whom he watched part of Abraham Lincoln's New York funeral procession as a child. Quite literally, the girl next door, Edith Caro. Teddy sees plenty of milestones in the next decade or so. He and Edith see to the construction of their new Long Island home, Sagamore Hill.

The couple raised Teddy's first daughter, and by 1897, will have five more kids together. T.R. publishes several books, mostly on American history. In 1889, he is appointed to the U.S. Civil Service Commission. But in 1895, NYC reclaims Teddy politically, as he not only joins the New York City Board of Police Commissioners, but becomes its president. And if this notoriously corrupt police force thinks they can get away with business as usual under T.R.'s watch,

they better think again. It's just past 2 a.m. on the warm summer night of June 7th, 1895. A 5'10" mustachioed figure is stepping out of the gorgeous, columned mansion at Fifth Avenue and 39th Street, the Union League Club. Intent on not being recognized, he adjusts his hat and pops his collar to conceal his bespectacled face. Yes, Police Commissioner Theodore Roosevelt is on the move, but he's not after criminals in these early, dark morning hours.

Teddy's going after his own police force. Alright, time out. Let's get a little background. Most people in Gilded Age New York City see Police Commissioner as a pretty cush gig. You sit back in a nice office, relax, support your political party's goals, and let the people fend for themselves. But not Teddy. He's been getting word of lax police officers shirking their duties at night when no one's watching, and he intends to fix that.

To that end, he's working with the young Danish immigrant and journalist, Jacob Riis. Jacob became famous with his photojournalism publication documenting poor tenements in New York City, entitled "How the Other Half Lives." Soon after the book's publication in 1890, TR sent Jacob a note reading, "I have read your book, and I have come to help." The two became fast friends, and now Jacob is happy to help his friend-turned-police commissioner, Teddy, whip the police force into shape.

And with that, we return to our story. Jacob Reese meets Teddy as he exits his beloved Union League Club's mansion. Teddy then pulls out his list of police posts as the two men begin patrolling the streets, looking not for criminals, but officers. Things don't look good. On 3rd Avenue, they only find two officers on a beat that should have had ten. Teddy turns around to speak with the only two seemingly dutiful lawmen, but by the time he looks back, they're gone.

Annoyed, Teddy marks in his notes, not there. It seems TR is finding, as his future biographer Edmund Morris will so brilliantly put it, quote, that New York's finest were also among its rarest, close quote. And when the police patrolling duo finally find their first officer, he's not working. Instead, he's enjoying a meal at a coffee house.

Continuing along 3rd Avenue, between 27th and 28th streets, the owner of yet another coffee house, O'Neill's, steps out just as Teddy and Jacob arrive. The frustrated restaurateur beats the sidewalk with a stick, breaking the stillness of the early morning. Utterly unaware he's addressing the president of the Board of Police Commissioners, he turns to Teddy as he wonders aloud, Where in the thunder does that copper sleep? Boy, would Teddy like to know too. He and Jacob continue on in the dark.

They find a few officers on 2nd Avenue, although most here aren't working either. They're sleeping, flirting with women, and so on. At 7.15 a.m., Teddy returns to police headquarters with a list of officers in his hand. Two hours later, the slacking coppers are brought before him. T.R. sternly reprimands them, but the good-natured, good-humored Teddy can't bring himself to severely punish them. Not this first time, at least. T.R. warns, though, that he...

From childhood bullies to corrupt political bosses and outlaws out West, Teddy's never been able to stomach a cheat. It's no surprise then that police commissioner TR isn't willing to sit back and let the NYPD phone it in while crime and poverty rip the Big Apple apart. He's going to internal affairs the hell out of them.

But the soon nationally acclaimed police reformer won't stay in this role for long. It's time for Teddy to apply his building, striving, and fighting ways to the U.S. Navy. And it's not a minute too soon. War is coming. You'll recall from previous episodes the turns taken in Theodore Roosevelt's life and career following his tenure as a New York City police commissioner.

His friend from the 1884 Republican National Convention, Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, pushes newly elected President William McKinley to appoint Teddy as Assistant Secretary of the Navy in 1897. And we learned in episodes 104 and 107 that, in this role, Teddy helps to build up America's warships. Yet, TR resigns this post only a year later, in 1898.

He just can't bring himself to sit behind a desk as the USS Maine explodes in Havana Harbor, Spain is blamed, and war commences. Instead, Teddy becomes Lieutenant Colonel of the 1st U.S. Volunteer Cavalry Regiment. With its ranks filled by hard-riding Westerners and athletic East Coast socialites, it's the perfect blend of Teddy's two worlds. And he further excels at blending them into a cohesive force. The regiment also picks up a sweet nickname, the Rough Riders.

The name doesn't come out of the blue. It's a clear nod to the Western showman we met in episode 89, Buffalo Bill, whose Congress of Rough Riders has been entertaining the public for half a decade. But forget originality. Being compared to such athletes who exude the era's ideals of manliness is a supreme compliment. Now, they won't really ride in Cuba, but Teddy's Rough Riders more than make the name their own while charging up Kettle Hill at the Battle of San Juan Hill, as we heard in the opening of episode 105.

Indeed, that moment is Teddy's crowded hour. He comes home from the war a national hero, the type of hero that Republican Party bosses almost have no choice but to support in a run for the governorship of New York in 1898. And he wins. As governor, Teddy continues to prove himself a fighter. To be clear, it's not that he likes to fight just for the sake of fighting, nor is Teddy particularly radical.

He just can't abide individuals or organizations that contradict his sense of ethics. In short, those who are dishonest or bullies. We can see this in how Teddy describes working with his own party's state boss, Senator Thomas Platt.

To quote TR, my aim was to make a fight only when I could so manage it, that there could be no question in the minds of honest men that my prime purpose was not to attack Mr. Platt or anyone else, except as a necessary incident to securing clean and efficient government. In brief, Teddy doesn't seek a fight, but he will not shy away from one either if he sees it as the moral and right thing to do, regardless of who opposes him.

It's a difficult life, but Teddy speaks to just how important following this path is in his landmark speech as governor, The Strenuous Life. It's April 10th, 1899. A crowd of about 600 men, called the Hamilton Club, has gathered in a banquet hall in Chicago, Illinois. It's Appomattox Day, and these Northerners are celebrating the effective end of the Civil War that came with Robert E. Lee's surrender to Ulysses S. Grant 34 years ago.

And of course, there's no better man to celebrate the Union victory and survival of the nation than the hottest young Republican war hero since Ulysses, New York's new governor, Theodore Roosevelt. Teddy rises to give the keynote address, yet he can't even start for several minutes. The club's hundreds are far too busy excitedly waving white handkerchiefs and cheering him.

Flashing his signature smile, Teddy looks out over the banquet hall as President Hope Reed Cody pounds his gavel, calling the men to order. Eventually, the club quiets down enough for their president to provide an absolutely unnecessary introduction of the famous rough-riding governor, Theodore Roosevelt. Still, more applause follows, and finally, Teddy can begin his address in his high, shrill voice.

In speaking to you, men of the greatest city of the West, men of the state which gave to the country Lincoln and Grant, men who preeminently and distinctly embodied all that is most American in the American character, I wish to preach not the doctrine of ignoble ease, but the doctrine of the strenuous life, the life of toil and effort, of labor and strife.

Teddy holds true to this theme of a strenuous life.

He doesn't begrudge those wealthy enough not to work. He begrudges those with such means who then choose not to work, to avoid strenuous effort and enjoy a life of leisure. Tiar is, of course, describing his own elite class. And as he does so, he's demanding that they use their position to serve others. Says Teddy, "If you are rich and are worth your salt, you will teach your sons that though they may have leisure, it is not to be spent in idleness.

For wisely used leisure merely means that those who possess it, being free from the necessity of working for their livelihood, are all the more bound to carry on some kind of non-remunerative work in science, in letters, in art, in exploration, in historical research. Work of the type we most need in this country. The successful carrying out of which reflects most honor upon the nation. Teddy now applies these same principles to the nation as a whole.

In brief, he argues that it is better to strive for greatness and fail than to have never strived at all. That it is better to die for noble ideas like the union itself. Ah, nice connection to Appomattox Day, TR. Than to enjoy a life of ease. And he makes the argument beautifully. Let's listen in some more. As it is with the individual, so it is with the nation. It is a base untruth to say that happy is the nation that has no history.

Thrice happy is the nation that has a glorious history. Far better it is to dare mighty themes, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.

If in 1861 the men who loved the Union had believed that peace was the end of all things and war and strife the worst of all things and had acted up to their belief, we would have saved hundreds of thousands of lives. We would have saved hundreds of millions of dollars. We could have avoided all this suffering simply by shirking from strife. And if we had thus avoided it,

we would have shown that we were weaklings and that we were unfit to stand among the great nations of the earth. Thank God for the iron in the blood of our fathers, the men who upheld the wisdom of Lincoln and bore the sword or rifle in the armies of Grant.

Let us, the children of the men who proved themselves equal to the mighty days, let us, the children of the men who carried the great civil war to a triumphant conclusion, praise the God of our fathers that the ignoble councils of peace were rejected.

That the suffering and loss, the blackness of sorrow and despair were unflinchingly faced and the years of strife endured. For in the end, the slave was free, the union restored and the mighty American Republic placed once more as the helmeted queen among nations. The helmeted queen among nations. That is indeed how Teddy sees the United States. To him,

America has a grand destiny. It can only be achieved through a strenuous life filled with refining challenges and certainly no life of ease. This is also where Teddy makes his pitch that the US must help other nations. And in his book, that means imperialism. I trust this doesn't surprise you. After all, the year is 1899. The Spanish-American War has just ended and the Philippine-American War is still going. So Teddy spends a fair amount of time on this theme.

But when the speech is over, the press picks up and further evangelizes Teddy's gospel of the strenuous life far beyond the Hamilton Club. And it's easy to see why he believes in it. This path is his path. It has taken him from being a weak and sickly child to being a corruption-fighting war hero. No wonder the Rough Rider is prescribing a similarly strenuous rough ride for his nation.

And soon enough, he will have the opportunity to implement these strenuous ideas for America from a national office. I'm sure you recall from earlier in this episode, as well as 109, that Teddy, though a Republican, doesn't get along with New York's Republican party bosses. No surprise there. Teddy's a fighter and a fierce advocate for fairness and honesty, especially from government, while party bosses see little wrong with their spoils system.

Yeah, so they're basically like oil and water. That's why New York's party bosses want to stage a coup to get rid of their governor. Oh, they don't want to kill him. Worse, they move to make him vice president.

Joking aside, I told you this in episode 109 as well, but as a refresher, the Empire State's Republican bosses see the recent death of Vice President Garrett Hobart as an opportunity to offload their famous anti-corruption war hero governor by nominating him to fill that void on President Will McKinley's reelection campaign.

They succeed, and in the fall of 1900, Teddy tours cross-country, helping to sell the American voter on sticking with the already successful McKinley administration against Democratic challenger William Jennings Bryan. And as voters choose to stay the Republican course, they make barely in his 40s Theodore Roosevelt the nation's new VP. Will McKinley and TR take their oaths of office in March the following year, 1901?

Then, in September, we get to that tragic moment we heard about at the start of this episode. On the 6th of that month, anarchist Leon Shalgosh shoots President William McKinley at the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New York. And on the 14th, Will loses his battle to recover. It's 3.30 in the afternoon, September 14th, 1901.

The presidential cabinet, along with several members of the press and a group of women draped in black, have gathered in the green library room of Ansley Wilcox Mansion in Buffalo, New York. It's here, behind closed doors, though with many onlookers peeking through the ivy-covered, stained glass window, that Theodore Roosevelt is about to take the oath of office and begin his tenure as president. As the clock strikes 3:30, Secretary of War Elihu Root and Teddy both stand.

The mustachioed, wide-eyed Elihu begins, Mr. Vice President, I... That's as far as the choked-up secretary gets. To his credit, Teddy remains stoic as ever, but internally, he's a mess too. Nerves rack the Rough Rider, who, in just a few minutes, will take a new oath of office. Elihu composes himself and continues, I have been asked on behalf of the cabinet of the late president...

to request that for reasons of weight affecting the administration of the government, you should proceed to take the constitutional office of president of the United States. Fighting tears, Teddy clears his throat and answers, I shall take the oath at once. And in this hour of deep and terrible national bereavement,

I wish to state that it shall be my aim to continue absolutely unbroken the policy of President McKinley for the peace, the prosperity, and the honor of our beloved country. Peace, prosperity, honor. With that brief inaugural address, the steady words of Theodore Roosevelt brings some calm to a room filled with concern for the nation's destiny in the wake of Will McKinley's death.

Judge John Hazel of the United States District Court for the Western District of New York next instructs Teddy to raise his arm to the square. He does so and swears the oath of office of the President of the United States. Yet, even with Teddy sworn in, members of the cabinet and citizens across the country remain concerned. True, Teddy is a national figure with a good reputation, but so is Will McKinley.

and the legacy of two VPs to date who became president in the aftermath of an assassination, Andrew Johnson and Chester Arthur, doesn't exactly inspire confidence. Will Teddy be as divisive as Andy Johnson? A placeholder like Chet Arthur? It's hard not to wonder. Or maybe the strenuous life that's made an asthmatic, sickly child into a rough riding cowboy who loathes bullies and corruption will prove just what Gilded Age America needs.

Indeed, this newly sworn in 42-year-old president has no time for leisure or idleness and no fear of getting bloodied in the political arena. The progressive era has begun. HTVS is supported by fans at patreon.com forward slash history that doesn't suck. My gratitude to Kind Souls providing funding to help us keep going. Thank you. And a special thanks to our patrons whose monthly gift puts them at producer status.

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