Change of Plans

President Eisenhower is a man who likes to see for himself. Last week, as reports of mounting flood damage poured into his vacation headquarters in Denver, Ike made a quick decision: to fly to the Northeast, inspect, confer with the governors of the flood-stricken states, decide on the Federal Government's best courses of action. He had a long-standing appointment in the East, at the American Bar Association's meeting in Philadelphia (see above), and the inspection trip pushed his flight schedule forward half a day. At dusk one day last week. Ike boarded the Columbine and left for Hartford and points east.

Filet Mignon at Breakfast. Aboard the presidential plane was young David Eisenhower, on his way home from summer camp and a week with grandfather. As soon as the Columbine was aloft, David, at grandfather's insistence, exchanged his Davy Crockett outfit for a pair of white pajamas with red dots. Within a few minutes he was snug in a berth in the President's private compartment. Ike turned in soon after.

Next morning Ike was up early, peering from his window for glimpses of the flood damage. An Air Force steward put an enormous breakfast tray in front of him (orange juice, cantaloupe, filet mignon, mashed potatoes, Melba toast and coffee), but Ike, preoccupied with the tragedy below, merely toyed with his meal. As the Columbine cruised slowly over Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York and Connecticut, low cloud formations closed in, and Ike got only occasional views of the flooded areas. Allentown, Pa. floated underneath, between cloud drifts, looking untouched by the flood. Over Connecticut, the clouds opened up long enough for the President to get a good look at the swollen Naugatuck River, and at Derby, with flood water glistening in its streets.

Ike had planned to fly over crippled Putnam and other towns in eastern Connecticut, Rhode Island and Massachusetts, but Pilot William Draper was unwilling to continue in the face of turbulent weather and poor visibility. At 8:48 a.m.. the Columbine landed at Hartford's Bradley Field. At the airport were six governors, with a swarm of Government and Red Cross officials. In a nearby hangar, Ike listened while each governor in turn outlined the damage to his state. After the hour-long conference, the President promised that the Government would do everything possible, and appealed to the public for aid. "This is a chance where each of us can rise to an emergency," he said, "and prove that the American people, regardless of governments, regardless of limitations on them, can meet an emergency and do it well."

Millions for Relief. The flood, as the President learned, was the most damaging in U.S. history, with property losses estimated conservatively at $1.6 billion. Back in Washington that afternoon, Eisenhower summoned officials to plan a relief program. For the moment, he authorized expenditures of available relief funds of $100 million, rehabilitation loans of $1 billion for flood-ravaged defense plants and small businesses. Meanwhile, other Government agencies were swiftly mustering all their resources for flood relief, and a stream of Army engineers, Public Health Service doctors, nurses and drugs, Agriculture Department food surpluses, GSA and Army cots and blankets, and Labor Department unemployment checks was flowing into the water-logged Northeast. As coordinator of the Government's relief activities, the President named Civil Defense Administrator Val Peterson.

After a night in Washington, Ike flew to his appointment with the lawyers in Philadelphia, returned to the capital to make the Government's flood-relief program official, and to pick up the First Lady and a guestP: U.S. Ambassador to Britain Winthrop Aldrich. Back in Denver 5 1/2 hours later, Mamie was the first off the Columbine, headed straight for her mother, Mrs. Elivera Doud, at the airport. "Hi, Mommy," she grinned. "It's sure good to be home." From the airport crowd came an inquisitive voice: "What do you plan to do on your vacation, Mamie?" Replied Mrs. Eisenhower, with a blissful grin: "I'm just going to sit on the front porch."

Next day Ike put in a full morning at his desk, conferred with the seemingly endless parade of officials and friends who beat a track to his door (among the week's visitors: Interior Secretary Douglas McKay, Labor Secretary James P. Mitchell, Senator Arthur Watkins, General Omar Bradley). Later, on the golf course at Cherry Hills Club, he swapped pleasantries with Dizzy Dean, and gave Bob Hope an impromptu lesson on how to drive a golf ball. After the comedian had shanked a ball off the fairway, Ike grabbed his driver and cleanly smacked a drive 225 yards down the center, then gave Hope a wordless, that's-how-it's-done look.

Last week the President also:

P: Tried out during his Philadelphia trip a specially designed seven-passenger Chrysler Crown Imperial that provides protection against the elements and still gives the public an unrestricted view. The center supports had been removed from the limousine, giving it the clean look of a hardtop convertible, the rear seats were pushed forward, and a sliding roof installed, so that Ike, standing on a platform, was plainly visible to 25,000 cheering Philadelphians who lined the streets.

P: Spent a day fishing for trout at the Pine, Colo, ranch of Bal Swan, a Denver friend, and cooked his catch over an open fire.

P: Appointed two Democrats, Texas' Governor Allan Shivers and Boston Mayor John Hynes, and a Republican, California's Governor Goodwin Knight, to the National Civil Defense Advisory Council.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.