When we think of presidents and first ladies, we usually imagine them as they appear in histories and biographies, paintings and photographs, and—in the past century—in newsreels and online. There’s George Washington, erect and dignified; Jefferson poring over a book; Dolley Madison rescuing Washington’s portrait from the British; Abraham Lincoln at Gettysburg; Eleanor Roosevelt at her typewriter; and George W. Bush in a classroom when he first heard about the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center.
Rarely, however, do we think of our presidents and first ladies as spouses or mothers or fathers, reading a book to a child, enjoying hot chocolate with the family, or cracking jokes with their spouses. Even more rarely do we think of their reactions when some personal disaster struck 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. NW in Washington—the death of a child or a spouse and the heartbreak and tears that followed, tragedies that are a part of the human condition.
