A Hunting Widow: President Theodore Roosevelt's Wife Edith
August 14, 2008 6:28 PM | 0 Comments
After touring The White House, our next stop was the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History. When I was in my 20's I worked as a research assistant in its Paleobiology Department and wrote the 120-page guidebook that was in use until several years ago, when a new edition was published. So, this museum is home to me. It also immediately gave me some insights into my question about First Ladies and sports widows. 
As you enter the Rotunda, the museum's icon is a huge, stuffed African elephant. The museum's collection includes a number of animals that were bagged by none other than President Theodore Roosevelt. In 1909, after completing his service as the 26th President of the United States, Teddy and his son Kermit went on an 11-month African safari. To his credit, Teddy wanted the trip to be as scientific as possible so he enticed the Smithsonian Institution to join the expedition and, in the process, added to its fledgling collection of wildlife specimens. By my calculations, Teddy's wife Edith was still home caring for at least a couple of teenage children. Thanks, Teddy. Thanks so much.Life is a Contact Sport. Speak softly and carry a big stick (especially if your sports fan abandons you for an 11-month hunting expedition).The Sports Widow(aka Nan Hall)
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From the Hunting Archives
A Sports Widow Sideline Report: Hunting
September 29, 2007 6:26 PM | 0 Comments
Growing up in Wisconsin, I am no stranger to Hunting Season. When you travel up to the Northlands, it's not uncommon to step into a bar and see the words Bucks and Does designating the men's and ladies' bathroom doors. I always duck upon entering, just in case...
Wisconsin's Legendary Nannie Oakley
My personal experience with hunting and operating firearms is limited, which should be a relief to the nation, if not the world. When it was my father's turn to host us for the weekend (my parents divorced when I was 6), my Dad, who spent his early years growing up in Miles City, Montana, used to play cowboy with us. From the munitions perspective, my Dad was a bit of a bull in a china shop. He was fond of either taking us to a quarry near Madison, Wisconsin, for target shooting or blasting the bucolic fields of his stepfather's farm near East Troy, Wisconsin. The latter choice always angered his stepbrother Gerald, who managed the farm, because it spooked the livestock. During these target practices, my label was Nannie Oakley, but I never liked holding a gun, and I don't think I ever came close to hitting any of the rings of a bull's eye target. In fact, my Dad and brothers are lucky to be alive today with intact eyes and appendages.
