The Presidency: Subtle Changes

There were the ritualistic messages to be sent: one to congratulate several Southern cities for peaceable school integration, one to U.S. Jews felicitating them on Rosh Hashana observances marking the New Year 5722. There were bills to be signed: they ranged from the $4 billion foreign aid authorization to a measure providing $150,000 for a Pearl Harbor memorial to the Pacific dead of World War II. There were dozens of visitors, but many of them did not appear on the official appointments list; instead, such cold war planners as State Secretary Dean Rusk, Atomic Energy Commission Chairman Glenn Seaborg, Defense Secretary Robert McNamara and Deputy Defense Secretary Roswell Gilpatric moved unheralded in and out of White House side doors.

So passed another week in the presidential life of John F. Kennedy. Since Kennedy took office, the pressures have been unrelenting, with international crises marching in steady parade. Many U.S. cold war hopes depend on how President Kennedy meets those pressures, both physically and in his mental attitudes. Close White House observers agree that he has responded well—but with some subtle changes.

A Couple of Dips. The President's health was excellent last week. The long-nagging pain in his back had almost disappeared; he took a couple of dips a day in the White House pool (floating on his back one afternoon, he called out to a swimming companion: "I wonder if Maris or Mantle will beat Babe Ruth's record?"), and he was looking forward to playing some golf this fall. During the weeks when his back ailment had limited his physical activity, he had gained 10 Ibs., and his face appeared puffy; now he was down to 175 Ibs. and, although there were a few new lines, the puffiness was gone. His physical resiliency was remarkable: late one hectic day last week, a visitor reported that President Kennedy seemed weary indeed—but the next morning, other visitors said they had rarely seen him so full of bounce.

In his attitude toward his job. Jack Kennedy seems far more serious than the zestful young man who so plainly had the time of his life during his first weeks in office. "He's still doing what he would rather be doing than anything else," said a White House aide last week. "The difference is that it isn't as much fun any more." Much less time is given to long, informal chats with newsmen and friends; much less frequent are the once publicized sallies from the White House to attend ceremonial and social functions. Now the President's working day is spent behind the closed doors of his office. That day begins about 8:45 with a breakfast staff conference, and usually ends at about 7 p.m., although the President has increasingly taken to spending long evening hours poring over papers in his second-floor living quarters.