The Time Teddy Roosevelt Traumatized Dr. Seuss

Library of Congress/Getty Images
Library of Congress/Getty Images

Given some of his outlandish characters, you might not peg Dr. Seuss as the quiet type. But by most accounts, the beloved author was a shy, soft-spoken person who hated addressing large groups. Who gets the blame for his stage fright? Theodore Roosevelt and the Boy Scouts of America.

By all accounts, 1918 was a lousy time to be a German-American. Anti-Deutschland sentiment had risen to a fever pitch during the first World War, with Woodrow Wilson himself spending federal money to produce films demonizing “Huns." Amidst the hysteria, even the word “sauerkraut” became controversial, prompting some distributors to rename it “liberty cabbage.”

Boy Scouts began selling war bonds en masse in a nationwide campaign to aid U.S. forces abroad. Joining the effort was Troop 13 of Springfield, Massachusetts which included a young man named Theodor Seuss Geisel. Theodor was the grandson of German immigrants and accordingly leapt at the opportunity to prove his patriotism. Apparently, so did his grandfather, a successful brewer who purchased $1000-worth of them, making Theodor one of Springfield’s top ten Boy Scout bonds salesmen.

The accomplishment did not go unnoticed, and that May, Theodor found himself summoned to the town’s Municipal Auditorium to receive a special award for his accomplishment. And who was to present the accolades? Former President Theodore Roosevelt himself.

But unbeknownst to Geisel, Roosevelt had been accidentally given one medal too few and assumed he’d only be handing them out to nine scouts. As luck would have it, Theodor was the tenth. When he crossed the stage to accept his award, the Bull Moose stared down at him and bellowed, “What’s this boy doing here?” Rather than explain the situation, Theodor’s scoutmaster whisked him off the stage, making a humiliating mix-up even worse.

Geisel was understandably traumatized, and from that point on had a phobia of big crowds. “Speak softly” may have been part of Roosevelt’s mantra, but thanks to the ex-president’s bluntness, it was Dr. Seuss who wound up putting it into practice.

Keep Your Cat Busy With a Board Game That Doubles as a Scratch Pad

Cheerble
Cheerble

No matter how much you love playing with your cat, waving a feather toy in front of its face can get monotonous after a while (for the both of you). To shake up playtime, the Cheerble three-in-one board game looks to provide your feline housemate with hours of hands-free entertainment.

Cheerble's board game, which is currently raising money on Kickstarter, is designed to keep even the most restless cats stimulated. The first component of the game is the electronic Cheerble ball, which rolls on its own when your cat touches it with their paw or nose—no remote control required. And on days when your cat is especially energetic, you can adjust the ball's settings to roll and bounce in a way that matches their stamina.

Cheerable cat toy on Kickstarter.
Cheerble

The Cheerble balls are meant to pair with the Cheerble game board, which consists of a box that has plenty of room for balls to roll around. The board is also covered on one side with a platform that has holes big enough for your cat to fit their paws through, so they can hunt the balls like a game of Whack-a-Mole. And if your cat ever loses interest in chasing the ball, the board also includes a built-in scratch pad and fluffy wand toy to slap around. A simplified version of the board game includes the scratch pad without the wand or hole maze, so you can tailor your purchase for your cat's interests.

Cheerble cat board game.
Cheerble

Since launching its campaign on Kickstarter on April 23, Cheerble has raised over $128,000, already blowing past its initial goal of $6416. You can back the Kickstarter today to claim a Cheerble product, with $32 getting you a ball and $58 getting you the board game. You can make your pledge here, with shipping estimated for July 2020.

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The Arlington National Cemetery Just Opened Its Time Capsule from 1915—See What’s Inside

That red ribbon is the literal "red tape" that we now use as an idiom to describe bureaucratic processes.
That red ribbon is the literal "red tape" that we now use as an idiom to describe bureaucratic processes.
Arlington National Cemetery, YouTube

In the decades following the Civil War, thousands of people assembled in Arlington National Cemetery’s James R. Tanner Amphitheater to honor the fallen soldiers each May on Decoration Day (which we now call Memorial Day). By the early 20th century, the event had grown so popular that Congress agreed to build a new, larger arena in its place: the Memorial Amphitheater.

When President Woodrow Wilson laid the cornerstone on October 13, 1915, it contained a copper box with documents and mementos that captured the spirit of the era. Though the contents weren’t kept a secret, you can now actually see them for yourself—on May 15, 2020, Arlington National Cemetery celebrated the centennial of the amphitheater’s dedication ceremony by opening the time capsule and displaying them in a virtual exhibit.

Inside the box was one of each coin used in 1915; uncirculated stamps bearing images of George Washington and Benjamin Franklin; an autographed photo of Wilson; a Bible signed by amphitheater architect Thomas Hastings; the dedication ceremony program; directories of both Congress and Washington D.C. residents; Civil War veterans’ pamphlets; four issues of local newspapers, including The Washington Post and The Washington Times; copies of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution; an American flag; and a map of Pierre Charles L’Enfant’s blueprints for building the city.

As Smithsonian.com reports, a few of those documents became outdated soon after being sealed in the box. The 1915 version of the Constitution had 17 amendments, but two new ones had been passed by the end of 1920: the 18th, prohibiting alcohol, and the 19th, giving women the right to vote. The American flag, on the other hand, was already inaccurate when it went into the time capsule. Though Arizona and New Mexico had both been annexed in 1912, bringing the state total to 48, the flag only included 46 stars.

Some of the items were wrapped in red tape, a seemingly insignificant detail that Archivist of the United States David S. Ferriero found especially exciting.

“All of the records in the National Archives, when they were moved into that building, were carefully protected with wrappings that were held together with this red tape,” he said in a statement. “This is where the saying comes (from) about cutting through the red tape. It is actually—literally—the red tape.”

For the last few decades, the copper box shared its hollow cornerstone abode with another, less official time capsule: A Peter Pan-brand peanut butter jar, stuffed with business cards and other notes. The box had been relocated to the National Archives while the amphitheater underwent repairs in 1974, and the workers snuck the jar into the hollow when replacing it during the 1990s.

“It was sort of a rush job,” conservator Caitlin Smith told The Washington Post. “But you can understand the impulse to add your name to history.”

You can learn more about the history of the Memorial Amphitheater and discover more about the exhibit here.

[h/t Smithsonian.com]