PTPI Blog

Especially when the President is “Granddad” – A Holiday Remembrance by Mary Jean Eisenhower:

One Christmas season, my Mom held court with the “kids” in the east family living area of the White House.  ”Kids” was the name Granddad referred to us by, but one that Mimi didn’t like as she took the word “kid” literally as a baby goat.

In conducting this meeting, Mom noted that the President and First Lady of the United States had anything they could possibly need or want for Christmas, and informed us that we were going to put on a pageant for them.  Julia, my favorite of the upstairs maids after Delores, was beside her and prepared to do what was necessary to assist in the production of this pageant.  My thoughts immediately drifted as I thought I didn’t care who the President and First Lady were, she was talking about Mimi and Granddad, something that took me a minute to reconcile and grasp that they were indeed one and the same.  The rest of my siblings seemed to understand, which was normal when it came to getting a grip on what we were living.

The Eisenhower Family at Christmas in the White House. Mary Jean Eisenhower is in front, holding her grandmother Mamie Eisenhower's hand.

The east living area in the family quarters bore a colonial American light red and white pattern.  The grand Georgian window there also had a recess that served nicely as a counter stage to its mate on the west side of the living area as mom choreographed what we would be doing on our home stage.

Mom was a detail person when it came to such productions; this particular show was no exception.  She took starched, crisp white percale sheets, customized their size, cut holes in the middle of them, and lined the holes with silver garland to serve as a neckline.  The rest of the sheet flowed loosely to our bodies.  Then she crafted angel wings out of white cardboard and silver sparkles, and halos out of rounded metal coat hangers and more garland.  This wasn’t enough for our presentation – she then took strands of twinkle lights and wrapped them around the four halos already clad in garland.

We had a couple of “fittings” before dress rehearsal, which were annoying because she made us stand still so that the hemlines would be straight. When the costumes were on the players (my brother, two sisters and me,) she ran the wire from our halos down our sleeves and out. The wires were then hooked up to “D” size batteries, which were covered by wax paper and had a cardboard flame on the top: candle disguises. She rigged a button on the bottom of the “candles” which made the twinklers light. We were to press the buttons to make the halos twinkle during the songs we sang.

After a dress rehearsal and a couple of weeks of practice on the pageant, it was show time. Mom lined us up by size: David first, Anne, Susan and then me, the usual order. We commenced on the west side of the second floor. The hallway lights were turned completely out. Mom stood at the side of our procession directing us. We started our way from the west side and made our way down the oversized corridor to the east side.

The Eisenhower family poses in front of the Christmas tree at the White House. Mary Jean Eisenhower is in front, third from left.

The first song we sang was “Silent Night” followed by other traditional carols. We appeared as four little angles as we made our way down the corridor, singing, twinkling, pacing slowly past the Lincoln bedroom on our right, the Queen’s room on our left, past the social sitting groups of sofas and coffee tables adorned with crystal fodder which shot beautiful colors in the off light while reflecting our twinkles, past granddad’s nap room, on the left, past the elevator and Granddad’s artist studio on the right and in to the east area where Daddy, Mimi and Granddad sat anticipating our entrance. I was utterly mesmerized; this really was Christmas with all the glow of the nighttime books and fairytales that had been read to me. I am sure that was one of, if not the sole time the four of us bore the title “Angel” at the same time.

When it was over, Granddad and Mimi jumped from their chairs, the lights went on just before they gave us huge hugs with bursting smiles, one at a time, looking us straight in the eyes, making each of us feel special, as they told us it was the best pageant they had seen – ever. It felt glorious. Sugar plums danced that evening amongst the crisp starched sheets while the smell of Christmas and Santa prepped me for the next morning, which would continue the magic of the eve we had just lived – together.