Return to normalcy

Return to normalcy was the appeal Warren G. Harding made in 1920 to a country tired of heroism and ready, it seemed, for ordinary life. The phrase captures a powerful desire for stability, but its place in Harry S. Truman’s story is also one of contrast: a brief alignment between national mood and private hopes gives way to economic uncertainty and a presidency repeatedly shaped by emergencies that could not be put aside.

The 1920 Appeal

Harding, the Republican senator from Ohio, called for a return to normalcy during his campaign for president. He and his running mate, Calvin Coolidge, defeated the Democratic ticket of James Cox and Franklin D. Roosevelt by a larger majority than any previous election. The result suggested that voters had had enough of heroism and wanted a different kind of politics.

For Truman and Eddie Jacobson, the appeal seemed to fit the moment. They were restocking the shelves of their Kansas City store and waiting on customers; their work looked in step with a country turning toward commerce and routine. The year’s end brought a concrete measure of their success: they had sold $70,000 worth of goods, producing a high return on their investment.

The Promise Meets Economic Hardship

The appearance of stability did not last. Farmers were already under pressure as grain prices fell. Wheat that had reached a record $2.15 a bushel in 1919 was selling for $1.44 by the fall of 1920, while farm prices overall dropped 40 percent. The hardship spread across the Midwest, narrowing the market on which businesses like Truman and Jacobson’s depended.

By 1921, the silk shirt—a symbol of the postwar boom—had become merchandise they could no longer sell. By midyear, their flourishing business had evaporated, and they had to borrow more money to keep their stock current. The phrase’s promise of a return to familiar prosperity thus meets an early qualification in Truman’s biography: public appetite for normalcy did not ensure economic security in private life.

Ordinary Routines Amid Presidential Crises

Years later, Truman’s presidency would make the limits of that promise more pronounced. When he first addressed Congress as president on April 16, 1945, he received a standing ovation and applause seventeen times during a speech that lasted fifteen minutes. The warm reception marked a successful beginning, but the occasion was not a return to an uncomplicated political routine: Truman had succeeded Franklin D. Roosevelt during wartime and was immediately tested in the office.

The book also preserves the domestic textures of presidential life. Truman worked at swimming laps in his choppy sidestroke, keeping his head above water so his glasses would stay dry. In the evenings, he and Bess relaxed with cocktails, while the White House staff learned that they disliked drinks made too sweet and did not care for fruit punch. These small habits make ordinary life visible inside the presidency, even as decisions beyond the sitting hall demanded the president’s attention.

The Unfinished Business of Normalcy

Truman’s later choices repeatedly put routine against urgency. He continued pressing Congress after it rebuffed his proposals, including national compulsory health insurance and universal military training. He argued that peace required power as well as goodwill and wanted a trained reserve ready for emergencies. His approach did not treat normalcy as a reason to stop governing; it treated the conditions for a secure peace as unfinished work.

That tension sharpened in decisions about war. Advisers debated how to use the atomic bomb against Japan, including whether a technical demonstration could bring surrender without striking a city. The possibility was rejected: the scientists could propose no demonstration thought likely to produce the necessary shock, and only one bomb might be ready. Truman later recalled that military advisers had warned an invasion could cost at least a quarter of a million American casualties. He also wrote that he disliked the weapon, and on August 9 told a correspondent that he regretted the prospect of wiping out whole populations and would not do so unless absolutely necessary; he said he felt for Japanese women and children as well as seeking to save American lives.

The same restraint appears in a different kind of crisis when Truman faced General Douglas MacArthur’s public defiance. Despite his anger, and despite concluding that the challenge implicated his authority as president and commander in chief, he did not immediately dismiss the general. He sent a restrained reprimand and took time to consider the dangers and political risks. Across these episodes, normalcy remains an aspiration rather than a settled destination: everyday work and family routines persist, but war, political conflict, and presidential responsibility keep breaking into them.