3/9/39 - America. D.A.R. Flu 3/9/39 - America. D.A.R. Flu.
- 1440 Gordon Road, Lyndhurst, Ohio March 4, 1939.

Dear Friends:

This is a momentous day: the 150th anniversary of the opening session of our first Congress. The stirring speeches have just been made; and our national hymn and anthem have been sung; and under it all you feel there is a deep undercurrent of patriotism - a new appreciation of our country. Such stability in a changing world! Toppling thrones, fallen empires, internal strife, fickle cabinets; and, worst of all, tyrannous dictatorship. And here, in this impetuous New World, the great Melting Pot, the land of Adventure, where we dare so much, we still cling to the faith of our fathers. Therein lies our security as a nation. It is with a new fervor that we sing "AMERICA." I have just read our Declaration of Independence in Jefferson's own hand writing, in which our forefathers declared: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal..." The colonists believed that so strongly, and in their "certain inalienable rights" that they were willing to fight and die for what they believed. Yet the so-called "Daughters" of these brave men have degenerated into a sorority of SNOBS. In their ignorance they would bar Marian Anderson, Opera starMarian Anderson from Constitutional Hall; that consummate artist, to whom the great Sibelius said, "My roof is too low for you." Last summer I secured all necessary information and filled out an application blank, preparatory to joining the D.A.R. But, happily, I didn't send it. To join, I realize now, would be to turn traitor to our brave ancestors' ideals.

The flu has swept through Cleveland, keeping thousands of children out of school, and causing at least one large High School to be closed. The flu has not been malignant - and to some children just a friendly ally that allows them to play "hooky" gracefully. But I am feeling very resentful toward my own "flu bug" that kept me from going to Saltsburg and paying my last respects to a great soul. My little tribute to Mr. Kennedy was entirely inadequate - and too late. But it doesn't matter; for in those last months of his life Mr. Kennedy lived on a spiritual plane far above my poor power to add or detract. May we take this leaf from his book: to do the best we can, and leave the rest to God. His faith was unique.

Florence B. Taylor

Next - 3/16/39 - Queen's Lace

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