Voice of C ourage D uring troubled times, FDR found a new way to talk to a nation B y Jonathan Alter From “ The Defining Moment ” A few days after Franklin Delano Roosevelt was sworn into office, he sat in the White House on a radio speech about the country ’ s banking crisis, scheduled for delivery on Sunday, March 12, 1933. I t was the depths of the Depression, with a quarter of Americans out of work, homeless and destitute. G lancing out the window, FDR saw a workman taking down the inaugural scaffolding on the White House grounds. “ I decided I’ d try to make a speech that this workman could understand, ” he told Louis Howe, his chief aide. T he American economic system was in a state of shock. O n Saturday, March 4, a few hours before FDR ’ s swearing-in, the governors of New York, Illinois and Pennsylvania signed orders closing banks in those states. T he New York Stock Exchange had suspended trading, and the Chicago Board of Trade bolted its doors for the first time since its founding in 1848. T he terrifying “ runs ” that began the year before on more than 5,000 failing banks had stripped rural areas of capital and now threatened to overwhelm American cities. T his was the bottom. I f you had your money in a bank that went bust, you were wiped out. W ith no idea whether banks would reopen, millions of people hid their few remaining assets under their mattresses, where no one could steal them without a fight. R oosevelt ’ s inaugural address at the Capitol had begun to restore hope, with his standout line, “ The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. ” Y et the greatest applause came when he said that if his reform program was not adopted, “ I shall ask Congress for the one remaining instrument to meet the crisis: board executive power to wage a war against the emergency. ” T hen FDR used a new medium in a new way to change millions. T he first Presidential radio broadcast was introduced by Robert Trout of CBS, who read from a folksy script approved by FDR: “ The President wants to come into your home and sit at your fireside for a little fireside chat. ” FDR brought natural talent to the role. H is speaking voice was a beautiful, relaxed tenor, not the contrived basso profundo of pompous politicians. Roosevelt owned much to technological good fortune. I n 1921, the number of radios in the United States was in the thousands. B y 1928, there were 9 million, and by 1932, 18 million, with about half the households owning at least one radio. Herbert Hoover had appeared on one of the first “ telecasts ” produced by an infant technology called television, but neither he nor anyone else knew how to use the broadcasting medium effectively. Roosevelt, though, was different. A ll afternoon, workers busily removed the gold pieces and Presidential china patterns in the Diplomatic Reception Room on the White House ground floor. I n came bulky electrical equipment and telephone cables, d to a desk and built-in microphone. M eanwhile, Roosevelt pictured people “ gathered in the parlor, listening with their neighbors, ” wrote Frances Perkins, who witnessed many broadcasts, “ As he talked, his head would nod and his hands would move in natural, relaxed gestures. H is face would light up as though he were actually sitting with people. ” T he ritual went this way: Upstairs, FDR would put the finishing touches on every word and phrase. H e was obsessed with punctuation. G race Tully, his secretary, sometimes inserted extra commas when she typed, leading her boss to gently upbraid her for “ wasting the taxpayers ’ commas. ” H is real concern was timing. H e read aloud at 100 words a minute but he adjusted his pace for effect. A t 6 p.m., Roosevelt had his throat sprayed for a sinus problem. T hen he enjoyed cocktails and dinner. M oments before the first Fireside Chat was to air, there was a crisis. N o one could find his leather-bound reading copy. P anic ensued for everyone except FDR, who calmly picked up a smudged, mimeographed copy. A fter sipping from a glass of water, he read the words perfectly on the air. The beauty of that first prime-time radio speech was its clarity. FDR walked people through the basics of banking without being patronizing. H e outlined the process for deciding which banks to open. “ He made everyone understand it, even the bankers, ” Will Rogers quipped later. I n the middle of the speech, Roosevelt said simply, “I can assure you that it is safer to keep your money in a reopened bank than under your mattress. ” B y raising an issue that made so many feel shameful, he lifted the shame — offering listeners a way to strike a patriotic blow by simply depositing money into a solvent bank. T hose who planned instead to withdraw money were gently thrown in with an unsavory lot. H oarding, the President said, “ has become an exceedingly unfashionable pastime. ” T hen he returned to themes so popular in his inaugural. “ Confidence and courage are the essentials in carrying out our plan. L et us unite in banishing fear. W e have provided the machinery to restore our financial system. T ogether we cannot fail. ” J im Farley, a top political advisor, wrote that if judged by its impact, this speech may have been the greatest single utterance by an American President. “ No other talk ever called forth such a wave of spontaneous enthusiasm and cooperation. ” W ith 60 million people listening, the effect was immediate. T he next day, Monday, March 13, newspapers reported long lines of Americans anxious to redeposit their money. T he New York Stock Exchange closed for over a week, opened 15 percent higher, the largest one-day surge in more than half a century. W ithin a week, most of the recently closed banks reopened. Gerald Ford, about 20 at the time, remembered FDR ’ s Fireside Chats as “ big events — we would all stop and listen. ” Ronald Reagan ’ s biographer, Lou Cannon, has written that Reagan ’ s “ metaphors [were] the offspring of FDR ’ s. ” And Bill Clinton recalled hearing his grandfather talk about how he sat in rapt attention, “ then went to work the next day feeling a little different about the country. ” A fter the first Fireside Chat, FDR relaxed in his office. A t 11:30 p.m. he said, “ I think it ’ s time for beer. ” Preparations for a bill to speed the end of Prohibition began that night.