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Frances PerkinsFrances Perkins
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Somebody else had forgotten to get black stockings, and somebody else had forgotten to get black gloves. All those little idiotic forgetfulnesses that girls go through, you know, and then don't think anything of putting the burden on somebody else to go get them for them.

So various people were undertaking to run out to the local shops and get these things for them. In the meantime, Mrs. Roosevelt was asking no help from anybody. Somebody-- I guess Mrs. Helm--had bought her a plain black veil, and she had a plain black dress, and had ripped off whatever white was on it. She was not asking any help from anybody. She was helping these girls get themselves properly dressed.

I remember they all came in together, and they all looked exactly the same size, and one had the feeling: “This is the modern generation. They're all size 12, and they all comb their hair the same way, and when they have on a black dress and black stockings, you can't tell them apart, no matter what their faces look like.”

They all had on hats, of course, and their hats were small. But there was that sense of that kind of irresponsibility of that generation--and Mrs. Roosevelt, large and strong and comporting herself with a good deal of dignity, naturally led the flock.

That part of the funeral was undistinguished. It was proper. It was right. And it was all that you could ask.





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