Main Content

Mourning Franklin D. Roosevelt

This exhibit explores the power of black cloth as part of public and private displays of bereavement at the White House. Between 1841 and 1963, eight American presidents died while in office. By examining the fabrics used to decorate the White House for their funerals, as well as the mourning fashions of their spouses, one can track displays of grief through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and observe the mourning traditions that were either preserved or discarded to meet the needs of a growing, modernizing nation.

Franklin D. Roosevelt
Died on April 12, 1945

Franklin D. Roosevelt’s funeral was, according to his wishes, a much simpler affair than what was accorded previous presidents who died in office. He was the first president since Zachary Taylor to not lie in state in the Capitol Rotunda. Instead, a funeral service occurred in the East Room, then the casket was promptly taken to his home in Hyde Park, New York. The stark absence of the pomp and circumstance that accompanied other State Funerals may have been because World War II was still raging, and elaborate ceremonies were deemed inappropriate. Nevertheless, the public was not denied chances to mourn their beloved leader. His funeral train moved slowly to allow throngs of people—more than all four of President Roosevelt’s Inaugurations combined—gathered along the tracks to catch a last glimpse of the casket. First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt later remembered being moved by the sight of all the mourners: “I never realized the true scope of the devotion to him until he died," she said.

Like the funeral itself, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt’s mourning clothing was simple. She wore practical black suits and shoes, and small veils affixed to her hat that did not obscure her face. This was in keeping with Mrs. Roosevelt’s personal taste—journalist Martha Gellhorn wrote about the first lady’s wardrobe: “Mrs. Roosevelt…bought her good conservative clothes, infrequently and quickly, off the rack.” A celebrity political figure in her own right, she did not retire from public life; she spoke at events soon after the funeral. She also continued to pen her daily nationally syndicated newspaper column “My Day.” On April 18, 1945, she wrote “Of one thing I am sure. When people's hearts are freed by sympathy and sorrow, it makes them wonderfully kind. I have had evidence of this during the past few days.”