Washington, September 8, 1936. 
I think people might be amused to know of some of the strange situations 
in which I have been obliged to write my newspaper column.
One day stands out vividly in my mind. 
The President was opening Shenandoah Park 
and we left Washington early in the morning. 
Mrs. Scheider brought her portable typewriter 
and came along in one of the White House cars that was going
back in the afternoon.
We were busy all the morning. We picnicked for lunch, 
and the President made his speech at about 3 o’clock in the afternoon. 
I had told him beforehand that as soon as he had finished speaking, 
I would dash for the other car and the typewriter, 
and would he please wait for me before proceeding to Richmond.
He was most reassuring. I made my way to the car.
Mrs. Scheider was there with the typewriter already opened 
on the little seat in front of her. 
We no sooner began to work than people came up to the car and said,
“I just wanted to shake hands, Mrs. Roosevelt,” or, 
“My little girl would be so happy if I could have your autograph.”
In desperation I beckoned to the chauffeur and one 
of the Secret Service men standing near 
and begged them to stand on either side of the car until I was finished.
In about one minute Mr. MacIntyre, the President’s secretary, 
came along and put his head inside one of the windows. My heart sank.
“Oh, is the President ready so soon?” I asked.
To which he responded: 
“Oh no, he is talking to the Governor and is entirely happy,
having already announced that, having a wife who is a columnist, 
he has to wait for her occasionally. 
I just thought I would like to see you work.