At the outbreak of the Spanish-American War in the spring of 1898, Theodore Roosevelt, who was then assistant secretary of the Navy, began organizing his legendary regiment of Rough Riders. After a four-day, four-night train ride from San Antonio, the newly recruited Rough Riders arrived in Tampa "very tired and very dirty." Training began at once and the future president of the United States found time to write but one letter. "Blessed Bunnies," he began a tender note to his children as he prepared to step across the historic threshold from peace to war.
Teddy Roosevelt was many things, but what mattered most to him was being a father. Joan Paterson Kerr, who has collected Roosevelt's letters in A Bully Father: Theodore Roosevelt's Letters to His Children, makes a point worth noting: "Theodore was the quintessential family man. In letter after letter that he wrote to his family and friends, he spoke of the pride, the love and the joy that he derived from his family. No matter that he had achieved the highest position in the land, his wife and children came first." Roosevelt always saw his family as the needle of his life's compass. As he once wrote to his sister Bamie, whether in victory or defeat, he had "the happiest home life of any man whom I have ever known."
It is remarkable to reflect on how this incredibly busy man -- President, Explorer, Author, and Rough Rider, found the time to relate with each of his children as individuals. With little Alice, he spent hours on the floor building block houses and delighting her with stories of the make-believe people who inhabited them. Ted, Jr. spent time with his father pretending to fight the Civil War battle of Mobile Bay with pasteboard models of boats. Young Kermit delighted in riding their pony General Grant, which TR led around Sagamore Hill for hours at a time. Ethel and Archie enjoyed roughhousing, tackling their father and pinning him to the ground in triumph, actually believing they won every wrestling match.
The study of Teddy Roosevelt as a father is a testament to his priorities. He did not live to see his face on Mount Rushmore or to appreciate just how much he captured the imagination of the country. But he did live to see the children he loved grow to adulthood and develop into honest, hardworking citizens who built families of their own.
You may never be president of the United States or see your face on Mount Rushmore, but you can make a difference in your family and community by being a responsible father. Fatherhood is a commitment to priorities and oftentimes a sacrifice, but it is also a privilege and an honor. The joy to be received from spending time with your children playing ball or dolls, riding bikes, reading books, or letting them win wrestling matches is much more rewarding and eternally significant than any present you could open this Father's Day.
