History That Doesn't Suck - 174: The First “First Hundred Days:” FDR Kicks Off the New Deal

Episode Date: February 24, 2025

“[We] had forgotten to be Republicans or Democrats. We were just a bunch of men trying to save the banking system.” This is the story of FDR’s first 100 days in office.  In early 1933, banks foreclose on thousands upon thousands of homes and farms every month. The banks have little choice–they too are failing! Meanwhile, unemployment is hovering near 25%. It’s a catastrophe. Capitalism itself and the American way of life appears to be on the precipice.  Enter President Franklin D. Roosevelt, who calls an immediate “banking holiday” and an emergency session of Congress to face the hydra of crises sweeping the nation. During this 99-day congressional session that runs almost analogous to FDR’s first 100 days in the White House, they’ll pass 15 major pieces of legislation that create new organizations, regulations, and more with the hopes of getting the American people back on their feet.  But how exactly, does Franklin navigate the divergent views, difficult personalities, and competing priorities to get this mountain of legislation through? That is precisely our story. _____ Connect with us on HTDSpodcast.com and go deep into episode bibliographies and book recommendations join discussions in our Facebook community get news and discounts from The HTDS Gazette  come see a live show get HTDS merch or become an HTDS premium member for bonus episodes and other perks. HTDS is part of Audacy media network. Interested in advertising on the History That Doesn't Suck? Contact Audacyinc.com To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Welcome to History That Doesn't Suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and as in the classroom, my goal here is to make rigorously researched history come to life as your storyteller. Each episode is the result of laborious research with no agenda other than making the past come to life as you learn. If you'd like to help support this work, receive ad-free episodes, bonus content, and other exclusive perks, I invite you to join the HTDS membership program. Sign up for a 7-day free trial today htdspodcast.com slash membership, or click the link in the episode notes.

["Pomp and Circumstance"] It's 10 a.m. Wednesday, March 8th, 1933. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt is seated at his desk as some 125 reporters shuffle into his Oval Office in the West Wing of the White House. Oh no, that's not the famous Resolute Desk. This beautiful Art Deco piece is a recent addition from the Hoover administration. And no, this isn't that Oval Office. This is the one that President William Howard Taft added to the West Wing in 1909, though FDR will move into the Oval Office that you and I know once major renovations bring it

into existence late next year. Anyhow, the reporters filing into this Oval Room, as it's known, are here for the new President's first press conference. Surely, they must be wondering, how will these go? Will FDR be chatty and personable, like his fifth cousin, the originator of the presidential press conference, Theodore Roosevelt? Lecture-esque, like professorial Woodrow Wilson? Will he want written questions submitted in advance, as Warren G. Harding, Calvin Coolidge, and Herbert Hoover all did

to various degrees. More urgently, will the four days on the job president speak freely about his two days ago proclaimed banking holiday that has all banks closed through tomorrow? Well, time to find out. The 51-year-old Salt and Pepper president speaks cheerfully from his desk. It is very good to see you all, and my hope is that these conferences are going to be merely enlarged editions of the kind of very delightful family conferences I have been holding in Albany for the last four years.

I am told that what I am about to do will become impossible, but I am going to try it. We are not going to have any more written questions, and of course, while I cannot answer 75 or 100 questions because I simply haven't got the physical time, I see no reason why I should not talk to you ladies and gentlemen off the record, just the way I have been doing in Albany and the way I used to do it in the Navy Department down here. Quite a number of you I am glad to see date back to the days of the previous existence, which I led in Washington. The door opens. It's two of FDR's sons, likely 22-year-old Elliot and days away from 17, John. They apologize for interrupting but wanted to say goodbye before going across the country. Franklin shakes their hands and announces to the press, these two boys are off for Arizona.

As his sons exit, the president continues detailing how these press conferences will work. He asks for no direct quotations apart from those provided in writing by his spokesman, Stephen Early. Franklin says he'll also give background information, which they may print, but must not attribute to the White House, because I don't want to have to revive the Ananias Club. Ah, the Ananias Club, the group of reporters whom Theodore Roosevelt blacklisted after they broke his rules.

With his typical charm, TR cheekily named this club after a New Testament figure struck dead for lying to God. Well, no one wants Franklin to revive that club. The point is taken, as is the President's explanation that, off the record, it is confidential and not to be reported or repeated, even to colleagues. With those rules laid out, Franklin deadpans. Now, as to news, I don't think there is any. But things turn serious as the reporters ask about his plans for the nation's Great Depression

wrecked economy, both in terms of the current banking holiday and the long term. You mentioned in your greetings to the governors on Monday that you favored a unified banking system. Is that in your emergency plan? That wasn Monday that you favored a unified banking system. Is that in your emergency plan? That wasn't quite the way I put it to them. What I said to them was that it was necessary to treat the state and national banks the same way in this emergency, so there would not be two different classes of banks in this country.

And the other thing I said was to try and avoid 48 different plans of putting this into effect. Do I understand you are going to keep hold of this banking situation until permanent legislation is enacted? Off the record, yes. What is going to happen after Thursday night, Mr. President, when the holiday ends? Are you going to call another one? That depends on how fast things move. In your inaugural address, in which you only touched upon things, you said you are for sound and adequate, I put it the other way around.

I said adequate but sound. Now that you have more time, can you define what that is? No. In other words, and I should call this off the record information, you cannot define the thing too closely one way or the other. On Friday afternoon last, we undoubtedly didn't have adequate currency. No question about that. There wasn't enough circulating money to go around.

I believe that. We hope that when the banks reopen, a great deal of the currency that was withdrawn for one purpose or another will find its way back. We have got to provide an adequate currency. Last Friday, we would have had to provide it, in the form of a script and probably some additional issues of Federal Bank notes. If things go along as we hope they will, the use of script can be very greatly curtailed and the amounts of new Federal Bank issues, we hope, can be also limited to a very great extent.

In other words, what you are coming to now really is a managed currency, the adequateness of which will depend on the conditions of the moment. It may expand one week and it may contract another week. That part is all off the record. The questions continue. They include the gold standard, bank deposits and insurance, speakeasies, and FDRs recently called for special session of Congress to meet the economic crisis. Through it all, Franklin is chatty and personable.

The New York Times will report that, quote, veteran correspondents of recent years recall only one chief executive who talked as freely, Theodore Roosevelt, close quote. A successful press conference indeed. But it's one thing to talk to reporters. Can the president likewise corral Congress to help the nation's failing economy with emergency legislation? Franklin will get a taste of that challenge starting tomorrow as Congress gathers for that special session. Welcome to History That Doesn't Suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and I'd like to tell you a story.

Franklin isn't the only Roosevelt crushing the press conference game this week. Two days before Franklin's, Eleanor held one with 35 correspondents, all of whom were women. The idea came from Lorena Hickok, a female reporter who started covering Eleanor during the 1932 campaign, and it's an entirely new evolution of the role of the First Lady. Ultimately, Eleanor will hold 348 press conferences. But as newsworthy as the first couple's news sharing is, we now turn our attention to today's tale, which the President's press conference set up.

This is the story of the start of the New Deal and FDR's first 100 days in the White House. For this episode, it's crucial for us to keep in mind that we are at the nadir of the Great Depression that we've been following since episode 170. Unemployment is near 25%, production has plummeted, the stock market is abysmal, and foreclosures on homes and farms are happening left and right. Faith in the American way of life, particularly in capitalism, is dying. It's in this dire context that FDR summons Congress into a special session that meets for roughly a hundred days between March and June 1933.

It will pass 15 major pieces of legislation. I'll fill you in on each. We'll also experience Franklin's first fireside chat and witness some of his more challenging conversations as he cuts some aspects of government spending and sets up the alphabet soup agencies, as they're known, that constitute the start of his promised New Deal. Ultimately, we'll find that, even though this flurry of legislation will have its imperfections, some of which will lead to vicious fights down the road. FDR's success in leading the nation and Congress through this legislation to conquer

the worst of the crisis, or crises frankly, will lead to the first 100 days becoming a metric of sorts for measuring every president to come. One that every president will dread as they try to measure up to Franklin. We've got 60 minutes to cover 100 days, so let's get to it. And we begin just a few days back with FDR taking immediate action against the banking crisis. Rewind.

It's almost impossible to overstate the severity of the banking emergency that newly inaugurated President Franklin Delano Roosevelt inherits. We covered much of this in episode 172, but allow me to briefly recap and bring you up to our early March 1933 present. I trust you recall that a bank failing and wiping out your account in the process was simply a risk one took prior to the Great Depression. It happened, sure, but nothing like the failures that followed the stock market crash of 1929. 1930 saw more than 1,300 banks fail. 1931 continued with around 2,300 failures.

And although Herbert Hoover's new Reconstruction Finance Corporation seemed to stem the tide in mid-1932, it was but a brief respite before more bank running panic seized the nation in early 1933. Thus, with more than 5,000 banks having failed over the past three years, Americans now trust the underside of a mattress or a coffee tin buried in the yard more than a savings account. The United States banking system appears to be in a death spiral, threatening to end capitalism as the nation knows it. That is what Franklin is facing as he takes the oath of office on March 4, 1933.

And that is why the American people love his inaugural address's talk of speedy movement. And speedy he is. Thirty-six hours after taking the oath, at 1 a.m. Monday, March 6, FDR issues Proclamation 2039. This creates a four-day banking holiday, temporarily closing all banks through Thursday, March 9. That same Monday, he also calls Congress into a special session that will start just hours before the banking holiday ends, at 12 noon on Thursday. Its first task is the banking crisis.

Now, FDR's authority to proclaim this banking holiday is questionable. He does so on the basis of the Great War Era's 1917 Trading with the Enemy Act, which allows the President to, quote, prohibit any transactions of gold or silver coin or currency, close quote. Yet, in a testament to how dire things are, few grumble at this stretch of a law written in the context of trading with foreign foes. In fact, only later that same March 6th, a conference of 37 of the nation's 48 governors, most of whom have declared banking holidays at the state level, urges Congress to grant Franklin, quote, such broad powers as may be necessary, close quote. As one of the president's brain trust professors, Raymond Moly, will later recall, they, quote,

have forgotten to be Republicans or Democrats. We were just a bunch of men trying to save the banking system. Close quote. On Thursday, March 9th, this spirit of cooperation carries on as Congress's special session kicks off with the Emergency Banking Act. This bill does a lot of stuff, but the big points include, one, expanding the president's authority in a banking crisis, including a retroactive covering of FDR's proclaimed banking holiday, just in case it wasn't actually constitutional,

2. empowering the president to reopen the banks with government supervision, and 3. allowing the Federal Reserve Board to issue notes as valid currency regardless of whether there's gold to back it up. Through all of this, the Republicans show little concern for partisanship. Instead, the Republican House of Representatives Minority Leader Bertrand Snell declares, �The House is burning down and the President of the United States says this is the way to put out the fire. And me?

There is only one answer. Give the President what he demands and says is necessary to meet the situation." His bipartisan words are met with applause, and without even having printed copies, the incredibly cooperative Congress passes the Emergency Banking Act that same day. Franklin signs it into law that night. Whew! Charming the nation's governors, the press, and even Congress, Franklin's had an amazing first week.

But even as the banking holiday extends through the weekend, Franklin knows that the Emergency Banking Act will only restore a pulse to the nation's financial institutions if the American people trust it, trust him. And so, that weekend, the President decides he'll speak directly to Americans in the same way that, as governor of the Empire State, he used to speak directly to New Yorkers through a radio broadcast. It's almost 10 p.m., March 12, 1933. President Franklin Roosevelt is in his study on the second story of the White House, later

to be known as the Yellow Oval Room, seated at the famous resolute desk. Yes, this is where FDR uses it, though without the eagle depicting panel that won't show up until the Truman administration. Yes, Truman, I'm afraid the movie National Treasure 2 passed on a popular but false legend in claiming that Franklin adds the panel to hide his paralyzed legs. Anyhow, reporters and staff are whisking about as the president sits behind the resolute desk, his teeth anxiously clenched around his iconic cigarette holder. You'll have to forgive his nerves.

See, he's about to speak to 60 million Americans listening through their collective 20 million radios. In other words, about 50% of the entire U.S. population. This is his one shot to pitch them on trusting the banks when they reopen. Talk about high stakes. And incredibly, no one can find his speech. But time waits for no man and radio is even less forgiving. So as the minutes tick away and the appointed

hour of 10 p.m. arrives, Franklin has his secretary, Grace Tully, nab a mimeographed copy of his speech from one of the newsmen present. With that copy in hand, FDR stubs out his cigarette while Bob Trout of the Columbia Broadcasting System, or CBS, gives him a warm friendly introduction telling the audience that, The President wants to come into your home and sit at your fireside for a little fireside chat. And then Franklin begins.

My friends, I want to talk for a few minutes with the people of the United States about banking. And I know that when you understand what we in Washington have been about, I shall continue to have your cooperation as fully as I have had your sympathy and your help during the past week. Because of undermined confidence on the part of the public,

there was a general rush by a large portion of our population to turn bank deposits into currency or gold. A rush so great that the soundest banks couldn't get enough currency to meet the demand. It was then that I issued the proclamation, providing for the national bank holiday. And this was the first step in the government's reconstruction of our financial and economic fabric. The second step, last Thursday, was the legislation, promptly and patriotically passed by the Congress, confirming my proclamation and broadening my powers so that it became possible in view of the requirement of time to extend the holiday and lift the ban of that holiday gradually in the days to come.

This bank holiday, while resulting in many cases in great inconvenience, is affording us the opportunity to supply the currency necessary to meet the situation. Remember that no sound bank is a dollar worse off than it was when it closed its doors last week. Your government does not intend that the history of the past few years shall be repeated. We do not want and will not have another epidemic of bank failures. It has been wonderful to me to catch the note of confidence from all over the country. I can never be sufficiently grateful to the people for the loyal support that they have given me in their acceptance of the judgment that has dictated our cause, even though all

our processes may not have seemed clear to them. After all, there is an element in the readjustment of our financial system, more important than currency, more important than gold, and that is the confidence of the people themselves. Confidence and courage are the essentials of success in carrying out our plans. You people must have faith. You must not be stampeded by rumors or guesses. Let us unite in banishing fear. We have provided the machinery

to restore our financial system, and it is up to you to support and make it work. It is your problem, my friends, your problem no less than it is mine. Together, we cannot fail. So friendly and personable. Bob Trout's right. It's like Franklin joined us by the fireplace in the living room. That's why CBS reporter Harry Butcher will run with Bob's analogy and start calling these FDR broadcasts

fireside chats after the next one in May. The term will stick. When the first banks reopen on Monday, March 13th, the people overwhelmingly show their trust in the president. Bank lobbies fill with people carrying sacks and briefcases of money. In Phoenix, patrons and tellers alike watch in shock as a poorly dressed man asks to open an account then proceeds to pull literal rolls of $500 gold certificates out of his jar.

Overall deposits exceed withdrawals by 2 to 1. Confidence in the banks also spurs confidence in the stock market, which jumps more than 15% when it opens with the last of the closed banks on Wednesday. It is no exaggeration to say that the Emergency Banking Act's promise of new cash from the Fed, perhaps not deposit insurance in form but in action, bolstered by Franklin's reassuring radio broadcast, restored America's confidence in its financial institutions. To quote Professor Ray Moley once more,ism was saved in eight days. We have a long way to go before the Great Depression ends, but as Franklin receives

praise for having stopped Uncle Sam from bleeding to death from the banking artery within week one, let me introduce you to his team in the White House. The most important advisors aren't necessarily his cabinet. Arguably, his most important advisor is his press conference holding wife, Eleanor, whom we will yet see in action in many other ways. There's also FDR's famous brain trust of academics, like Columbia professor Ray Moley, whom we met in the last episode and, as you might have noticed, will later write a very quote-worthy account of these years. He'll also become a sharp critic of FDR later, but that's down the road. Nor should we forget about Franklin's close friend and advisor, the hard-smoking and cussing

Louis Howe. We met this gargoyle lookalike in episode 173 as well, and while his health is downright terrible, Louis plays a crucial role as one of the few people who will openly tell Franklin when he thinks his ideas are dumb. On several occasions, he sends aides to Franklin with instruction to, and I quote, tell the president to go to hell. As for Franklin's cabinet picks, I don't mean to disparage them, but they're mostly boring political choices. They include Utah's former governor, George Dern, as Secretary of War, Senator Cordell Hull of Tennessee as Secretary of State, a post he'll fill for a record setting 12 years, largely because he knows that Franklin is the one in charge, and, for Secretary of the

Treasury, FDR's big-time donor, William Wooden. William dies in a matter of months, though, so he'll soon be replaced by Franklin's Hudson Valley neighbor, Henry Morgenthau. A little more uniquely, our Democratic President also selects two Republicans. One is Secretary of Agriculture Henry Wallace, who, despite never being particularly close to Franklin, will serve as his vice president later. The other is the old curmudgeon, Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes. Not surprisingly, both men supported Franklin's hero of a fifth cousin, Theodore Roosevelt, when he broke from GOP ranks with his bold moose progressivism. The one true standout, though, is the first woman to serve in a presidential cabinet, Francis Perkins.

This Boston-born advocate for workers' and women's rights faced off against pimps in Philadelphia and pursued legislative changes for safety regulations after witnessing the horrific Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire that we too witnessed in episode 119. Franklin saw her tenacity in drive when he was governor of New York and she was the state's industrial commissioner. Francis also made national news in 1930 when she asserted that President Herbert Hoover wasn't taking the economic downturn seriously enough. Historians often credit Eleanor with Francis' appointment, perhaps implicitly assuming that

Franklin would never pick a woman on his own. But the First Lady refutes this in her autobiography. But regardless of those unknowable, behind-closed-doors details, Frances has the gig, and little does she know that the less than two weeks on the job President has big plans for her department. It's an unspecified day in March, likely the 15th, 1933. It might even be a working lunch meeting. And if so, the head of the White House staff, Henrietta Nesbitt, or Dictatrice of the President's Diet, as historian H.W. Brands calls her, has all well in hand.

If she's prepared one of Franklin's favorites, he's eating calf's liver and bacon, or creamed chicken. But more likely, it's poached egg and hash. But regardless of what the president may or may not be eating, Franklin's got a lot on his plate. Right now, he's meeting with Secretary of War George Dern, Secretary of Agriculture Henry Wallace, Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes, and if today is the 15th, then happy birthday 59-year-old Harold, and finally, Secretary of Labor, Francis Perkins. At some point, Franklin expresses his concern about trees being cut down without being replaced, and connects this to the idea of a universal youth service.

He suggests, as Harold will later put it in his journal, that they, "...take unemployed men out of the crowded areas and put them to work in the national forests." It's quiet for a moment. Frances Perkins later remembers that everyone blinks upon hearing this, right before jumping to endorse the idea. Frances tries not to disagree with Franklin in public, but she doesn't love this. This leads to a conversation that, pieced together from a few sources, goes something like this.

Well, Mr. President, what are they going to do when they get to the woods? They will be doing forest preservation and building dams to prevent water runoff. Yes, I know. But what about the unemployed? Where are they? Well, on the streets of New York. You've seen them lining up at the bread lines. Take them right off the bread line.

Take those poor men off the bread lines and take them up to the Adirondacks and turn them loose? Work it out. We can pay them a dollar a day. Just because they're unemployed doesn't mean they are natural born lumbermen. How are you going to recruit? I'll tell you what.

The Department of Labor will recruit these men. Mr. President, you know as well as I do that the Department of Labor has no facilities for recruiting, selecting, and transporting these men. Do it through the United States Employment Service. Well, that won't work. Frances just told him yesterday that she'd found the whole office ineffective and was planning on shutting it down. But Franklin waves her off. Resurrect the employment service right away. Use the Labor Department to recruit and select these men. Francis pauses. There's no use fighting it. As she later summarizes,

"...it was characteristic of him that he conceived the project, boldly brushed it through, and happily left it to others to worry about the details." So, ready as ever to support the President, Francis looks him in his bespectacled eyes and answers, Well, the Forest Service could tell us where work needs to be done. And perhaps the military could set up camps and provide the tents, cots, shoes, and blankets workers would need. And just like that, Francis finds herself shouldering the start of a massive project. The Civilian Conservation Corps. Warning.

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In brief, Franklin's vision is this. The Department of Labor will select young men, initially ages 18 to 25. Best equipped to manage men on a large scale, the War Department will then administer, while the Departments of Agriculture and the Interior will supervise the projects on which the men work. These gents will be hired for six months with the option to renew for two years and paid $30 per month, 25 of which they must send home to their families. In FDR's thinking, this will accomplish good things for the nation and get money in

American pockets without resorting to the dole. It gives these men a hand, yet also the dignity of work. The idea gets pushback. Labor doesn't want the army involved. The president of the American Federation of Labor, William Green, says this reeks of fascism, of Hitlerism, and in some respects of Sovietism. Yet, once again, FDR deftly navigates his opponents and wins over the press. On March 31, Congress passes the Act for the Relief of Unemployment, which gives FDR the

authority to create the CCC. His executive order doing so soon follows. It will prove one of the most popular New Deal plans, employing more than 250,000 young men by June and more than 3 million by its end almost a decade later in 1942. They'll build trails, public parks, clean up the countryside and fight erosion and deforestation by planting more than 3 billion trees. While the CCC is one of the most memorable aspects of the New Deal, there are still two

other significant bills that this cooperative Congress gives Franklin that same month. A week and a half earlier, on March 20, the Economy Act moved the nation toward a balanced budget by cutting some government agencies, reducing pay, and decreasing veteran benefits to save $500 million. Now, Franklin will not be known for being a budget hawk in the long run, but right now, he's very mindful of expenditures, saying, Too often in history, liberal governments have been wrecked on the rocks of loose fiscal policy. Cutting veterans' benefits is quite the move on the rocks of loose fiscal policy. Cutting veterans benefits is quite the move on the heels of last year's bonus army.

But the next day, Congress passes the far more popular Beer Wine Revenue Act. With the repeal of prohibition well underway, this tweaks the Volstead Act to legalize beers with less than 3.2% alcohol content and light wines. Woody as ever, FDR allegedly quipped just after signing this bill into law on March 22, I think this would be a good time for a beer. Thus, by the end of March, FDR could claim credit for saving banking,

massively cutting government spending, returning a legal buzz to the American people, a legal buzz that also brought a new taxation revenue stream, I might add, and creating jobs through the CCC. But even though Franklin seems to have the Midas touch and a Congress ready to expand his executive powers in ways that would have made Andrew Jackson blush a century earlier, changes and cuts that are good for the nation as a whole still hurt in the departments that shouldered the blows. And not everyone is going to take the budget-slashing president's cuts quietly.

It's an unspecified day, likely late April 1933. We're at the White House, where President Franklin D. Roosevelt is in a tense meeting with Secretary of War George Dern and some of his brass. Assistant Chief of Staff General Hugh Drum, Chief of Engineers General Lytle Brown, and most notably, the career army man whom we encountered in several Great War episodes, Chief of Staff of the Army General Douglas MacArthur. On the heels of a discussion with Congress a few days ago, they're here to talk to the President because he wants to slash the army's budget.

A 51% cut to the regular army, a 25% cut to the National Guard, and still other cuts to the reserves. This, the brass argue, is far too much. Franklin sits behind his desk as George Dern tells him, The world's situation has become too dangerous to allow a weakening of our defense. Germany and Italy are arming in Europe, and in the Orient, Japan continues its conquests in Manchuria and China, to economize on our strength at this time could prove a fatal error. Franklin responds, and apparently he doesn't hold back. Doug MacArthur remembers this moment saying,

"...the quiet spoken phrases of Dern were no match for the biting diction of Roosevelt. Under his lashing tongue, the secretary grew white and silent." Well, George might be silent, but Doug didn't earn seven separate silver stars during the Great War by cowering. Bluntly, he tells the President, "...the country's safety is at stake. That sets Franklin off. Doug says that the president turned the full vials of his sarcasm upon me. He was a scorcher when aroused. Tensions rise and finally Doug shouts at the president, when we lose the

next war and an American boy lying in the mud with an enemy bayonet through his belly and an enemy foot on his dying throat spits out his last curse, I want the name not to be MacArthur but Roosevelt." FDR turns red with rage and shouts at his bold Chief of Staff of the Army, FDR, you must not talk that way to the President. The words sting. Doug knows that the president is right. Frozen with embarrassment and personal disappointment, the chastised general stumbles over an apology,

completely certain that his career is now over. He tells Franklin to expect his resignation, and the whole uniformed group rises and turns to leave. But just as Doug is about to exit, Franklin stops him saying, Don't be foolish, Douglas. You and the budget must get together on this. Exiting the White House, the whole group pauses under the shade of the portico facing Pennsylvania Avenue. George Dern is over the moon. He turns to Doug, exclaiming, You saved the Army! But the General is in no celebratory mood. Still processing the whiplash of emotions over his mouthing off, announcing his resignation,

and the President rejecting it all in a matter of minutes, Doug is seized by what he calls a paralyzing nausea. No, Doug's not about to celebrate. Instead, as he later puts it, I vomited on the steps of the White House. War Secretary George Dern is right. While Douglas MacArthur might have been out of line in his tone with the president, his assertiveness was on point.

The army's budget goes from an amputation to a haircut. All the same, with cuts across the board and an ongoing Great Depression, Doug MacArthur isn't the only one worrying about the future. And across the country, letters pour into the White House asking for help. But they aren't always addressed to Franklin. Many are for Eleanor. Eleanor isn't jazzed to be the First Lady. While we know from the last episode that Franklin's affair with Lucy Mercer during his assistant

Secretary of the Navy days reoriented his and Eleanor's marriage from one of love to one of mutual respect and public service, it was Franklin's ambition, not Eleanor's, that drove them to higher office. Nonetheless, Franklin's gargoyle resembling right-hand man, Louis Howe, became a political mentor to her during FDR's vice presidential campaign in 1920, and she found herself serving beside Franklin rather than tailing him as the First Lady of New York State. Indeed, Albany was the perfect warm-up for Washington. Far from limiting herself to playing White House hostess, a truly demanding task in and

of itself. Eleanor takes one step after another into the political sphere. As I mentioned earlier in this episode, she's holding her own women reporters only press conferences where her topics of discussion will increasingly drift from homemaking to politics. She's soon writing monthly for Women's Home Companion and will also start doing her own six-minute broadcasts once a week, all while trying not to contradict her husband where they disagree on issues. She's doing things entirely separate from FDR, like flying over DC with Amelia Earhart.

Meanwhile, Lorena Hickok, or Hick as she's known, who first suggested that Elle and her hold press conferences, continues to report on the First Lady. Hick will do so until the duo grow so close that they are vacationing together and the once heart-hitting reporter's writing turns evidently biased in favor of Eleanor, whom she's come to love. Whether that love is one of deep friendship or an amorous one filling Eleanor's long-ago shattered heart is a question historians will debate until the end of time. Yes, Eleanor is both a force of her own and a crucial political ally to her husband.

And so, as government cuts hit hard in these early months of FDR's presidency, there are times when the First Lady is the one best suited to smooth over the harder issues. It's late in the afternoon, May 16th, 1933. Eleanor Roosevelt is behind the wheel out for a drive with Louis Howe. She wasn't surprised when Louis suggested doing so. It's one of the 62 year old, long time Roosevelt advisors preferred indulgences. But today he has a very specific location in mind,

Fort Hunt, Virginia, where it just so happens that last year's bonus marchers are gathered. Let me explain as Eleanor handles these dusty country roads. As you may recall from episode 172, Great Depression hit Great War vets gathered in Washington D.C. last year, in 1932, to demand early payment on Congress's long-promised, but not due until 1945, bonus payments. They were soon dubbed bonus marchers, and ultimately, General Douglas MacArthur chased them out of their camps.

It was a PR disaster for then-President Herbert Hoover. Now, the vets are still struggling. Arguably, they're worse off with the Economy Act's cuts to their benefits and they want better. Franklin arranged for meals in a camp in Fort Hunt. Meanwhile, Louis has engaged in stalled out negotiations. But at this point, he and Franklin are thinking that there is someone better suited for the job. Eleanor. Arriving just outside the camp, Louis tells Eleanor that he'll just stay in the car and sleep. Again, little surprise.

Sickly Louis could always use the rest. He tells her, walk around and just see how things are. Without hesitation, Eleanor trudges through the ankle-deep mud, making her way toward a line of bonus marching vets, waiting to get some food. The men are a bit taken aback. They ask what she wants, to which the First Lady answers, I just want to see how you are getting on. They tell her to follow them. The men proceed to show Eleanor all around the camp, where they eat, sleep, even the infirmary. While gathered in the mess hall, she asks the men if they know the words to, there's a long, long trail. They answer enthusiastically, we all do.

They sing, and afterward the chatting continues. Eleanor recalls her experiences in Washington during the Great War and seeing their fellow doughboys suffering in hospitals. during the Great War and seeing their fellow dough ask such service again. And I hope that you will carry on in peacetimes as you did in the war days, for that is the duty of every patriotic American. After an hour of visiting, the vets accompany Eleanor back to the car where Louis is indeed fast asleep. They all shout, good luck, as the First Lady drives off. Franklin doesn't get the vets their bonuses, nor does he make up for the cuts in the Economy Act.

His answer is to provide them jobs in the CCC. Some accept this, others go home. But either way, the bonus army gets nothing more from Franklin than it did from Bert Hoover. These men won't see their bonuses until 1936, when Congress will award them their payment over Franklin's veto. So why are these vets so much more accommodating to this president than the last? Well, according to one veteran, it's because Hoover sent the army. Roosevelt sent his wife. As Eleanor soothes the souls of bonus-seeking veteran doughboys in May 1933, Franklin is racking up more wins in Congress.

On May 12, three more significant bills become law. The Agricultural Adjustment Act, the Emergency Farm Mortgage Act, and the Federal Emergency Relief Act. Let's tackle these one at a time. The Agricultural Adjustment Act addresses one of the oddest challenges of the Great Depression, surplus agricultural product. Yes, as people starve in the cities, the agricultural sector's output is actually too high for farmers to profit. An average of 20,000 farms are going into foreclosure per month. To use the same analogy I used on banking,

Uncle Sam is again bleeding from an artery. Something must be done to get agriculture supply and demand back into parity. The Agricultural Adjustment Act tackles this by creating the Agricultural Adjustment Administration, or the AAA. Replacing the Hoover-era Federal Farm Board, it will, like the board before it, buy farmers'

surplus but additionally, and very controversially, pay farmers to produce less to stop this surplus cycle. To many Americans, it seems insane that the government would pay farmers to leave land fallow, plow under crops, and slaughter hogs as hundreds stand in bread lines. But farmers will never take the risk of having too little to sell without such an incentive. And this will help correct the misalignment between supply and demand.

The AAA has an interesting amendment that we'll circle back to in a bit. But for now, let's know three other things. One, it will help a lot of farmers. Two, it will fail a lot of sharecroppers and tenant farmers, particularly black farmers in both groups. And three, down the road, it will take us to the Supreme Court. As for the Emergency Farm Mortgage Act, well, you heard me mention the 20,000 farms foreclosing

per month, right? This bill attempts to stop these by extending payment schedules. Our last May 12th signed bill creates the Federal Emergency Relief Administration, or FIRA. We might say this builds on the work of both President Hoover and New York Governor Roosevelt. How's that? Well, as we learned in episode 172, Burt was becoming more interventionist toward the end of his presidency, and that included allowing the Emergency Relief and Construction Act to expand his Reconstruction Finance Corporation's ability to take on public works and create jobs. But also, as we learned in the last episode, then-New York Governor FDR set up the Temporary Emergency Relief Administration, or TIRRA, to fund the creation of jobs for New Yorkers.

Putting them together, FDR is building on Burt's step toward federal job creation by effectively bringing New York's TIRRA to the national level as FIRA. In fact, Franklin's relying on a TIRRA veteran to lead FIRA, too. Rash, chain-smoking Harry Hopkins. Harry has a budget of $500 million to distribute to states for job creation, not a straight dole because FDR believes the dignity of work must be preserved. Famously, Harry distributes his first $5 million on his first day. Fear will get replaced by another Harry-led program in two years, but we'll leave the heavy smoking reformer here

for now. Congress continues to pump out the legislation, and on May 18, 1933, Franklin signs the Tennessee Valley Authority Act. As its name suggests, this project is meant to help the Tennessee Valley, which traverses not only its namesake state, but parts of Virginia, North Carolina, Kentucky, Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi. The region is home to some of the nation's most financially destitute. The Tennessee Valley is prone to flooding, struggles with malaria, and only 3% of its homes have electricity. The plan then is for the Tennessee Valley Authority, or TVA, to build or improve waterways

and 20 dams, including the Wheeler Dam near Muscle Shoals in Alabama, to TVA, to build or improve waterways and 20 dams, including the Wheeler Dam near Muscle Shoals in Alabama, to control flooding, improve irrigation, fight erosion, and provide hydroelectricity. It's also an unprecedented project for the federal government, one that leads foes to cry socialism. Asked how he'll answer his critics, Franklin responds, I'll tell them it's neither fish nor fowl, but whatever it is will taste awful good to the people of the Tennessee Valley.

The TVA does indeed prove a success. Both progressive Republicans and benefiting Southern Democrats find themselves drawn to the President, whose program is remaking the long-lagging cotton belt into a modern economy. The next big bill is May 27th's Securities Act. Much like this year's Senate hearings in which Episode 170's sunshine Charlie Mitchell of National City Bank admits to selling stocks to avoid income taxes, an admission that leads to his arrest, though he's ultimately acquitted. This law is not a response to any emergency, but to the nation's financial scars from the 1929 stock market crash.

The Securities Act requires those selling securities to disclose relevant information, which, to dredge up memories from episode 170 once again, will make it harder for the least moral of brokers to hawk knowingly their worst wares. Now under the watchful eye of the Federal Trade Commission, at least until the soon-to-be-created Securities and Exchange Commission takes the role, Wall Street stomps its feet. But many average Americans breathe a sigh of relief, feeling reassured that Uncle Sam is now protecting them from the bad apples. This restores trust in the nation's financial institutions.

On June 5th, Congress issues a joint resolution making all gold clauses in any public or private contracts, that is, a clause that can require payment in gold, void. This is actually the culmination of a few moves taking gold out of the public picture, and oddly enough, it takes us back to the Agricultural Adjustment Act. Yes, time to talk about that amendment I mentioned earlier. See, while Franklin asked for the AAA back in March, and the House quickly passed it, the bill hit a snag in the Senate. That snag was named Senator Elmer Thomas.

Elmer is an old William Jennings Bryan man, a fan of bimetallism. Revisit episode 98 if you'd like to review this concept of backing the dollar with both gold and silver, but the key thing to understand now is that Elmer held up the AAA with an amendment that would allow the president to expand currency by cutting the gold value of the dollar by as much as 50% or by resorting to buy metalism and backing the expansion with silver. Ah, W.J.B. would be proud. Now, as you might recall from episode 171, nearly everyone in the 1930s sees the gold standard as crucial.

So the Thomas Amendment diluting it is indeed controversial. Yet, it's also in line with FDR's thinking as he's come to view the gold standard as a millstone around the dollar's neck. In fact, back on April 5th, he had used his Emergency Banking Act powers to issue an executive order compelling Americans to surrender their gold. So he's good with the Thomas Amendment to the AAA. As it went through, Franklin Riley informed his economic advisors by saying, Congratulations, we are off the gold standard. Half of them leapt for joy.

Half predicted the fall of Western civilization, and a week after its passage, FDR put his newest power to use with another executive order on April 20th, forbidding the unlicensed exportation of gold. And that is the gold standard suspending context that makes sense of Congress's gold clause killing joint resolution. It's also why Franklin won't let the World Monetary and Economic Conference happening that same summer in London peg the US dollar to the British pound. In short, given the current crisis, Franklin won't have gold or foreign currencies curtailing the U.S. government's ability to manage the dollar. On June 13th,

the Home Owners Loan Act takes effect. It builds on Burt Hoover's Federal Home Loan Bank Act from last year by creating the Home Owners Loan Corporation to help struggling Americans with, by creating the Home Owners Loan Corporation to help struggling Americans with, yeah, you guessed it, their mortgages. On June 16th, FDR signs the final four bills of the big 15 pieces of legislation from these first 100 days. Three of them can be summarized quite succinctly. The Farm Credit Act reorganizes things with the Loan- credit administration. The Emergency Railroad Transportation Act creates a one-year federal coordinator to ensure that the hitherto quite independent railroad companies that employ millions and constitute the nation's main means of transportation keep the trains rolling. The Banking Act of 1933, better known as the Glass-Steagall

Act, accomplishes two major things. One, it separates commercial and investment banking. And two, creates the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, or FDIC, which will insure account holders for deposits, initially for up to $2,500, against their bank failing. Neither the big banks nor FDR are fans of this deposit insurance, but Congressman Henry Stiegel believed it a necessary protection for rural institutions and got it in. Finally, we've come to our last, but certainly not least, bill for this episode. The one that FDR biographer Conrad Black calls the core of the New Deal,

the National Industrial Recovery Act, or NERA. The fight over this in Congress is tremendous. There are cries of socialism. But ultimately, it passes as a throw-the-kitchen sink-in approach that unleashes a bit of every ideology to see what sticks and might help in this plague of an economic depression. The NERA has two major parts. Title I focuses on industrial recovery, that is, raising prices and wages, and thus, raising tax revenue as well. To raise prices, it largely hits pause on antitrust laws and actively encourages industries to create their own codes of conduct,

quotas on production, and price fix. Effectively, it permits what historian David M. Kennedy calls temporary state sanctioned cartelization. It's a huge step away from laissez-faire thinking, and not long after the bill's passage, FDR issues an executive order creating the NRA to oversee this. No, not the National Rifle Association, but the National Recovery Administration. For PR purposes, the NRA will encourage companies and stores supporting it to display a blue eagle. As for raising wages, that comes into play with Section 7A, which states, quote, that employees shall have the right to organize and bargain collectively,

close quote. Well, unions love the sound of that. Meanwhile, from FDR's perspective, this has the added benefit of bearing Senator Hugo Black's bill trying to legislate a 30-hour work week, which the president is quite sure wouldn't even be constitutional. The nearest second major part is Title II, Public Works and Construction Projects. This calls for the President to create the Public Works Administration and allocates $3.3 billion for it to tackle big construction projects. Franklin is actually giving into Congress with that figure, but the balanced-to-budget promising President assures the American public that this price tag is about investing in infrastructure that will pay dividends long after the Depression.

Altogether, the National Industrial Recovery Act is a massive lift, one that the president had intended to entrust to hard-working and hard-drinking General Hugh Johnson. But as word of the general's impending appointment spreads, Franklin gets concerning feedback. Bernard Baruch tells Secretary of Labor Francis Perkins, I think he's a good number three man, maybe a number two man, but he's not a number one man. He's dangerous and unstable. Marvin McIntyre confirms this, telling Franklin and Francis that Hugh is an easy mark for any grafter in the USA. And those are Hugh's friends.

Okay, this is bad. Time to pivot. It's a hot Friday afternoon, June 16, 1933, and Labor Secretary Francis Perkins is just entering President Franklin Roosevelt's office at the White House. With doubts now swirling in their heads about General Hugh Johnson, Franklin has asked Frances here before this afternoon's Cabinet meeting to tell her that he's decided to split the administration of the NRA in two, that the general will only run the Title I enforcing NRA, and that he wants Interior Secretary Harold Ickes to run Title II's

PWA. But now comes the hard part, breaking this news and talking Harold into doing this. I think you ought to speak to Ickes. How can I? Hugh doesn't know yet. You haven't told Hugh? No. Oh, Mr. President. I thought it would be better and he would be less hurt if we didn't add an atmosphere of glory and praise." Ah, there's that FDR charm and social intelligence. He's right. And after Francis talks to Harry about the president appointing him to run the PWA and

gets his initial response of, the hell he is, to a reluctant, maybe, they do break the news to the general with glory and praise, and a dash of theater. It's later that afternoon, toward the end of the cabinet meeting in the West Wing of the White House. Only Secretaries Francis Perkins and Harold Ickes know that FDR has decided to split the administration of the NERA and how he intends to do it, but both play along as the President acts like the idea is just hitting him. He interrupts the whole cabinet asking, what do you think about the administration of Title II? As the bill is written, it seems to be taken for granted that it will be administered by

the administrator of Title I, but I suppose it could be separated. The whole room is nodding in agreement. Franklin continues, now making it seem like it's the cabinet's idea. I think I agree with you. It will be hard on Johnson, but I think it is the best thing to do. General Hugh Johnson is now invited in and gladly takes a spot at the large mahogany table. Smiling, Franklin tells the general that he's been discussing the burdens of the Nera with Johnston is now invited in and gladly takes a spot at the large mahogany table.

Smiling, Franklin tells the general that he's been discussing the burdens of the Nera with the cabinet and it had seemed to them all that to ask any one man to administer both Title I and Title II was putting an inhuman burden upon that man. Continuing to feign that this is all a new idea, Franklin points to Harold Ickes as he nonchalantly says that he'll put the burden of Title II on that fellow down there. The cabinet laughs, but not Hugh. He turns red and mutters to himself, I don't know why, I don't know why. As he does, Franklin ends the meeting.

The president pulls Francis close. Stick with Hugh. Keep him sweet. Don't let him explode. Francis rushes the General to her car. The chauffeur asks where to and as the Labor Secretary will later recall, I told him just keep driving anywhere. We visited every green park in Washington that day, some of them many times, as I tried

to reason with the general. Don't blow up, I pleaded. Don't pull out. And all he would say was, it's terrible. It's terrible. Francis pulls it off. Hugh never explodes and accepts running only the NRA. The next day, he publicly praises the Labor Secretary, saying,

Francis Perkins is the best man in the cabinet. Francis later writes of the compliment, He was of course merely showing gratitude that I had been his friend in an hour of need. What he really meant was that I was the best woman in the cabinet. What he really meant was that I was the best woman in the cabinet. A little over a month later, on July 24, 1933, the President goes on the radio to deliver his third fireside chat. He tells the millions of Americans audibly welcoming him into their living rooms. I think that we all wanted the opportunity of a little quiet thought to examine and assimilate

in a mental picture the crowding events of the hundred days which had been devoted to the starting of the wheels of the New Deal. How accidentally perfect. It just so happens that the 73rd Congress's special session, which ran from March 9th to June 16th, was exactly 99 days. Sworn in less than a week before, this span was just over the 100th day of FDR's presidency. That happenstance will forever lend a special symbolism to every succeeding president's first 100 days in office, as they have to be compared to a president who oversaw the passage of 15 major pieces

of legislation, some creating permanent fixtures in American life like the FDIC and TVA, while others, like the tree planting and park building CCC, will leave an indelible imprint on the American landscape. Nor do the American people have to wait to see results. As FDR delivers this third fireside chat, bank runs are over, industrial production is up 80%, stocks are soaring. Has his faith in the American way of life. But make no mistake, just because the emergencies are past doesn't mean that the Great Depression

is over. Unemployment is still over 20%. The Dust Bowl is ongoing. And despite Franklin's surging popularity, the end of the worst emergencies bring questions of how long or far the nation should trot his more interventionist path. FDR is wielding more executive power than any president since Abraham Lincoln. How long should this stand? Meanwhile, all of these new laws and alphabet agencies bring their own unique challenges. And are they all constitutional?

Battle lines between the Supreme Court and the White House are being drawn. But that is a story for another day. The History That Doesn't Suck is created and hosted by me, Greg Jackson. Episode researched and written by Greg Jackson and El Maestro, Will Key. Lorraine and Hickok and Eleanor Roosevelt, read by Liz McCraw. Production by Airship. Sound design by Molly Bott. Theme music composed by Greg Jackson. Arrangement and additional composition by Lindsey Graham

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