Please note that the following is a digitized version of a selected article from White House History Quarterly, Issue 56, originally released in print form in 2020. Single print copies of the full issue can be purchased online at Shop.WhiteHouseHistory.org No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. All photographs contained in this journal unless otherwise noted are copyrighted by the White House Historical Association and may not be reproduced without permission. Requests for reprint permissions should be directed to rights@whha.org. Contact books@whha.org for more information. © 2020 White House Historical Association. All rights reserved under international copyright conventions.
Remembering WILLIAM SEALE MARCIA M. ANDERSON WITH WILL SEALE III
The White House, I think, it can be said without hesitation, is the best documented house in the world . . . it can be approached from many perspectives. It is the job of this publication to explore them.—William Seale over the course of thirty–six years and fifty-six issues, our founding editor William Seale was dedicated to that exploration, completing the foreword to this issue of White House History Quarterly only days before his death on November 21, 2019. It was an adventure that I had the good fortune to share for two decades, and one through which William Seale succeeded in bringing to light not only the “many perspectives” of historians, archivists, and curators, but also those of journalists, first family members, White House aides, artists, chefs, and social secretaries—and even a contemplative nun. Dr. Seale once explained that his purpose in founding White House History was to create a publication that would present the history of the official presidential residence, which “Americans consider uniquely personal,” without “exploiting it in any way.” He said that he wished to create a journal for every reader with scholarly articles that would “not be scholarly in the exclusive sense.” It was his determination to present the broadest view of this personal American subject that led to issues devoted not only to such expected topics as the Lincoln and the Kennedy eras, but also to the unexpected— memories of visiting the White House, the White House in the movies, first ladies’ fashions, and the
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wildlife that inhabits the grounds. He delighted in publishing newly discovered photographs and connecting the previously unconnected dots in the human and architectural history of the house, and even more so in resurrecting forgotten speeches and obscure diaries. In the words of the author Joseph K. Oppermann, “Though others have urged study beyond the most prominent figures, no one has so thoroughly and eloquently heralded the contributions of the less recognizable or ignored as did William Seale.” William Seale described himself simply as a “historian with a primary interest in writing and a strong interest in the interpretation of historic sites,” and he noted that the White House was a vehicle for much of his work in historic interpretation. He wrote a total of twenty-seven books, but, in the realm of White House scholarship, he is best known for his two-volume work, The President’s House: A History. The scope of his work on our journal can easily be expressed in numbers—more than four hundred articles totaling more than 4500
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William Seale surrounded by some of his books at the 2017 National Book Festival at the Library of Congress.
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William Seale with rescued dogs as depicted by artist John Hutton, with whom William Seale often collaborated on pieces for White House History.
pages—but the contributions he made through the body of his scholarly work to the study of American history and White House history, are incalculable. Through his own writings and his leadership in White House History Quarterly, William Seale fulfilled the charge First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy made to the White House Historical Association upon its founding—to promote public understanding of the historic White House. It will be his legacy that this endeavor, now so well established, will be carried forward by the Quarterly and the scholars whose work he nurtured. With his death, the world has lost a brilliant historian and talented writer; his colleagues have also lost a mentor, a cheerleader, and a friend who always made us laugh. In recent years, William Seale often talked with satisfaction of what he saw as the “growing reach of the Association.” As a longterm witness to his impact on the field, I also see that it is the long reach of his friendship that ties so many of us together in the future pursuit of the endeavor. “Everyone who knew him,” says his son Will Seale III, “can bear witness to his life-long passion for preserving, documenting, and interpreting American history, but what everyone loved most about him was the generosity of his friendship.” “Any discussion of William Seale’s life,” Will continues, “would be incomplete without mentioning his love of animals—dogs in particular. He assigned human personalities to his dogs—often likening their characteristics to major figures in history— and he could converse with dogs as though they were fully engaged and responding in English. He would often speak for them, giving each their own accent and point of view. He loved their innocence, their simple needs, their humility, loyalty and vulnerability. He never chose his dogs; they chose him. Most he found ambling down the dirt road in front of his beloved farmhouse in East Texas, hungry, frightened, and confused as to why their owners had pushed them out of a car and driven away, never to return. He cared nothing about their looks, their pedigree, or their background. He loved them all instantly and unconditionally. He even loved the mean ones. He saw the best in every dog, and during his life he loved dozens of them. “William Seale treasured his family and friends and colleagues with the same full heart and childlike enthusiasm that he had for his four-legged band of mutts. Whether you wrote an article for him a month ago or met him more than seventy years ago,
you were uniquely important to him. He knew you, liked you and thought of you often. Being quite a character himself, he loved what made you interesting, unique and funny, whether you were proud of it or not. Whatever it was that made you rich, good looking or blue-blooded might have been interesting to William Seale the historian, but he sought to go behind the curtain to know his friends on a meaningful, lasting basis.” “My father grew up in Beaumont, Texas. When he wasn’t on his horse, he was nose down in history books. His mother begged him to go to law school, worrying that he would never make a living from history. She lived to see his groundbreaking book The President’s House celebrated in the East Room of the White House by President and Mrs. Reagan. He accepted accolades and honors with bashful, self-deprecating surprise. He was the worst self-promoter ever born. He devoted his career to the scholarly pursuit of truth, and it is in that vein that he always remained true to who he was, unaffected by the tides of style and popular opinion. He was no slave to fashion, but he was consistent: he mixed plaid with stripes, patched holes in his shoes with business cards, and loved his $5 straw hat from Walmart.” “Happiness was at the farm with my mother surrounded by his merry band of mutts, and working to give voice to the quiet, forgotten corners of America’s history.”
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