It was December 1913, and Woodrow Wilson was beat, man — and with good reason. In a little more than nine months, he’d put together one of the busiest first years for any president ever (for real this time): he reduced tariffs, created a new federal income tax, and he’d just signed the Federal Reserve Act into law. But the new Mexican dictator was a pain in his ass; plus he had a head cold that he just couldn’t shake, and he was staring his 57th birthday in the face. And on top of that, Wilson was famously introverted. Haggling with Congress is tough for anybody, but for a guy like Wilson who valued downtime and solitude? It was just a lot, OK? All of it was a lot.
There was only one reasonable solution: a golf trip to the absolute middle of nowhere.
So from December 25, 1913, to January 11, 1914, President Woodrow Wilson and family got away from it all where any introvert, golf-crazed president would naturally go: beautiful Pass Christian, Mississippi.
“The president selected Pass Christian because of its quietude,” the Jackson Daily News reported, “as the strain of pushing the tariff and currency legislation through congress has worn on him and he desires a complete rest. He will not stop at a hotel but at a cottage where he will enjoy quiet. He will not accept any invitations to appear at public or social functions. He will rest.”
OK, so peace and quiet weren’t the only things drawing Wilson to Pass Christian. There was also golf. Wilson was nuts about it, despite not being very good (in August 1914, he nearly hit another player with his tee shot; the golfer cussed his near-assailant before realizing it was the president, who promptly took his golf clubs and went straight home). By the time Wilson finished his eight years in office, he’d played roughly 1,200 rounds. The Mississippi Coast Country Club (now Great Southern Golf Club) was legitimately one of the top courses anywhere in the South. The course was challenging but immaculate, with views of the Gulf of Mexico from much of its nine-hole layout. It was quiet, secluded; if you were looking to get away from Congress, your family, and all the other 92 million people living in the United States, then you could do much worse. Plus, Wilson’s doctor kept insisting that exercise and fresh air would help him shake his cold. If your doctor tells you that your health hinges on playing golf for three weeks, then what can you do?
There was Christmas with the family. There was golf, basically every day. There was nine hours of sleep, also every day. There was a battle against a house fire. There were people who just would not leave him alone, and there was a secret meeting with an envoy to Mexico. It was literally what the doctor ordered. It was Woodrow Wilson’s Christmas Vacation.
. . .
Saturday, December 20, 1913
In tiny, seaside Pass Christian (population 2,458), word arrives that President Wilson and his family will spend nearly three weeks over the Christmas and New Year’s holidays; Pass Christian freaks out. “Never having had a president in their midst, the residents of Pass Christian are to be told how to act, and the two will put on its ‘company manners’ when President Wilson comes here to spend his vacation,” the Jackson Daily News reported.
But as one does when freaking out, the most important thing was to try not to look like one is freaking out.
“This much has been decided upon: the town will not appear excited when the president arrives,” the Jackson Daily News reported. “[T]he town hall will not be decorated; there will be no reception; only those having business about the station will be allowed there.”
Basically, the most important thing was to keep Wilson from having to see anybody or talk to anybody — thus, the choice of a house over a hotel. Wilson’s “winter White House” was a 10-room mansion facing the Gulf of Mexico. A 300-foot “dead line” was set up around the house, and anyone crossing it “will be locked up as a ‘dangerous character’ until the president leaves,” the Jackson Daily News reported. However, the newspaper clarified, “The townspeople will be permitted to furnish fish game, fruits and choice vegetables, but they will be carried to the house by … servants who will have permits to cross the ‘dead line.’”
. . .
Thursday, December 25, 1913
President Wilson arrives in Pass Christian and heads for the first place anyone goes on vacation: the post office. On Christmas Day, naturally. Of course, it’s deserted. But by God, Wilson needs stamps and he needs them now, so someone fetches the postmistress from her home (again, on Christmas Day) so that Wilson could buy a book of stamps.
“Merry Christmas, I did not expect you,” the postmistress, Annetta Simpson, said to the president. To be clear, she did not expect anyone, because the post office is closed on Christmas.
“Oh, I didn’t think there would be any one over here, but I thought I’d try,” Wilson told her. “It’s very kind of you to come over.”
Wilson pays for two 25¢ books of stamps with a dollar. Simpson forgets to make change. She later promises to have Wilson’s half-dollar delivered to him the next day (you know, when it won’t be Christmas anymore).
“I wish he had said something about letting me have three years more,” said Simpson, who was trying to get reappointed to her job. “They’re fighting me hard for the place.”
. . .
Friday, December 26, 1913
For the first of many times, Wilson piles into his car and takes the 15-mile trip from Pass Christian to the country club for a morning round of golf.
Wilson plays, shall we say, not great (he rarely broke 100). He’s not a big hitter, and the course is long. The round is slow. He loses his match against his doctor thanks to a missed putt on No. 9. The best that Wilson’s caddy can say about the president’s game is that he’s “fine.”
That’s more than can be said for Judge Neville’s house, though!
Wilson finishes his nine-hole round, gets back in the car, and begins the trip back toward Pass Christian. On the way, Wilson’s motorcade passes the Gulfport home of Judge J.H. Neville — which, unfortunately, is on fire (or, more accurately, the roof is on fire). This presents a conundrum: how to put out a house fire but not have to talk to anybody? The solution: make someone else do it!
“Get the fire extinguishers, men,” Wilson orders his aides, “and go after it.” Wilson’s companions dutifully obey and set off for the blaze.
But since you can’t order a bunch of fire extinguisher-bearing Secret Service agents to storm a house without causing a ruckus, Wilson walks up the driveway and knocks on the door while the men race around the back of the house. Judge Neville’s wife, unaware that her roof is burning, opens the door to find the Gulf Coast’s most famous vacationer.
“Don’t be alarmed, madam, your house is on fire,” said Wilson. He assures her that his men have plenty of fire extinguishers and that the situation is under control.
Collecting herself, Mrs. Neville responds, “Thank you, Mr. President, won’t you come into the parlor?”
“Thank you, madam,” Wilson said, “but I would prefer a bucket to help extinguish the fire.” The only thing that Wilson wants to do less than socialize on this vacation is to socialize in a burning building. Mrs. Neville excuses herself and telephones the fire department. Ten minutes later, they’re on the scene.
“Get busy and get up on the roof,” Wilson tells the firemen, as if they need to be told how to fight a fire by a some egghead duffer.
The fire is quickly extinguished; the roof suffers minimal damage. Wilson then spends the rest of the afternoon thanking each of the firemen for their servi — HAHA, sorry, no — after what newspapers describe as “a brief exchange of courtesies,” Wilson disappears into his car. Lunch awaits.
. . .
Saturday, December 27, 1913
It’s cold outside. It had been 40 degrees on Friday, when Wilson arrived, and now it is at least that cold. But it’s nothing that a little golf, a little complaining, and a little inconveniencing other people won’t help. So at 9 a.m., Wilson piles in his car and heads toward the country club.
When he arrives, Wilson walks into the clubhouse and asks for a fire to be made in the fireplace. It is made so, and after a few minutes of warming up and complaining about the weather, Wilson feels much better. Golf awaits! And today, he plays better! Wilson ties his match against his doctor, and he finishes the nine-hole round quicker than he did on Friday (although it says something about Wilson’s game that the highlight of his round is a 120-yard drive). Wilson’s caddie, a local 13-year-old boy, describes the president’s game as “fair,” but that’s better than the tip he gets from the president (25¢, Wilson’s standard tip; that’s about $6.50 in modern value).
Wilson and his partner grab their overcoats and head back to the car. “I would not wish anybody bad luck,” Wilson says as they walk, “but if we see a house burning on the way back today I’ll get out and warm myself.”
. . .
Sunday, December 28, 1913
Sunday morning in Mississippi means church, which means no golf. And today is Wilson’s birthday, which means no birthday party and no presents to speak of, because Wilson is a miserable person. He’s getting nine hours of sleep every night.
. . .
Monday, December 29, 1913
The Louisville (Ky.) Courier Journal (Dec. 30, 1913).
More golf today; a half-dozen local caddies get in a fight over who will get Wilson’s loop, and that makes Wilson laugh. Also, he plays 18 holes today for the first time in weeks! But otherwise, Wilson is not happy. It’s still just as frigid in Pass Christian as it was in Washington, and his cold still won’t go away (despite spending a couple of hours walking outside in the damp winter chill each day — who would’ve guessed?). On top of that, now the locals are coming around and — gasp! — trying to talk to him! “The citizens’ promise of privacy is not now being observed,” the United Press reported, “and unless there is an improvement in condition, Wilson will probably leave for some point in Texas or Florida to complete his vacation.”
In keeping with his routine, Wilson returns from golf for lunch, and spends the afternoon taking a nap and turning down requests for his company. “The President is receiving many invitations to attend social functions, school plays and entertainments but he is declining them all,” the Times reported. “Representative Harrison [the Gulf Coast’s congressman] thought perhaps some of the members of the Wilson family might care to participate in the social activities, but they, too, declined, preferring the quiet surroundings of the Pearl cottage.”
. . .
Tuesday, December 30, 1913
A breakthrough! Wilson’s health is better today, and he’s playing better golf! “As he climbed over the bunkers at the golf links today,” the Salt Lake Tribune reported, “there was a vigor in his walk that revealed to those who have been constantly observing him how much he has benefited by a week of rest and recreation in the mild gulf climate.” Maybe Wilson can stomach another couple of weeks with these savages after all. Wilson plays 18 holes for the second day in a row “and made a better score than usual,” according to the Tribune.
. . .
Wednesday, December 31, 1913
The business of the nation interrupts. Wilson has a meeting tomorrow with John Lind, his personal envoy to Mexico, and of course it was supposed to be a secret and of course the local press spilled the beans, so now everyone is scrambling to figure out another way to keep it hush-hush. In all likelihood, Lind and Wilson will meet tomorrow around noon. But luckily, “[t]he conference is not expected to interfere with the President’s regular morning game of golf at the Mississippi Country Club links,” the Natchez Democrat reported.
In the meantime, Wilson plays golf again. Afterward, Wilson walks into to town to buy a toothbrush and lampshade, while — to his horror — “a group of villagers waited outside the stores to see him,” according to the Democrat. He leaves the store and “swung across the street at a brisk walk.” Suddenly feeling very healthy!
The Democrat also reported that “[t]he citizens of Pass Christian gave a banquet tonight in honor of the President and attaches of his party, but Mr. Wilson did not attend.” He sends his doctor in his stead and goes to sleep long before midnight. Happy New Year!
. . .
Thursday, January 1, 1914
No golf today. No Lind, either. But no visitors, either. So there’s that.
. . .
Monday, January 5, 1914
Wilson (left, white hat) playing golf in an undated photo.
The business with Lind is over and done with, so the vacation is back on in earnest. Tomorrow is the day President Wilson has planned to visit nearby New Orleans to take in the first event of Carnival season. There will be parades, festivities, well-wishers, and lots of dignitaries.
So naturally, Wilson cancels the plan to stay in Mississippi and play golf.
It’s chilly again today, but Wilson is feeling better and playing better. “Evidence that the Mississippi coast climate has done much toward restoring the Wilson vigor developed today in the form shown by the President during his 18-hole match with Dr. Grayson,” the New Orleans Times-Democrat reported. “He played the best game of his stay, trimming the doctor handily. His step and general bearing were notably snappier than heretofore, and much color was in evidence in his cheeks.”
Afterward, Wilson takes a nap and reads. “Business, except matters calling for immediate attention, is strictly tabooed,” reported the Times-Democrat (for Wilson’s health, obviously).
. . .
Tuesday, January 6, 1914
God, will these people never quit?
When Wilson’s plan to visit the Coast were announced, the principal of nearby Long Beach High School invited Wilson to speak at the school on the subject of patriotism. Wilson declined; if he graced one school with his presence, he explained, then he might have to go to another one, too (God forbid).
But the principal had a backup plan to make sure his students saw the president. On Wilson’s trip back to Pass Christian from his morning round of golf, his car comes upon the entire Long Beach High School student body, lining both sides of the road, each student waving a tiny American flag and cheering “Our President!”
When the scene came into view, Wilson was so moved by the sight of the patriotic decision that he ordered his car to slow down — not stop, Jesus no don’t stop — and waved his hat at the children as he passed them by without stopping.
The locals are still talking about Wilson’s contribution (if you can call it that) toward putting out the fire at Judge Neville’s house several days earlier. The local volunteer firefighters even unanimously elected Wilson to be an honorary member. Wilson cheerfully accepted his election — by letter, of course.
Wilson also has been invited to a public reception (public?!) before his vacation ends. “The matter is under consideration,” the Times-Democrat reported.
. . .
Wednesday, January 7, 1914
More golf. And more kids swarming the motorcade. But today, Wilson has a plan. The entire trip, people have been bombarding Wilson and his family with candy, and God knows they aren’t going to eat it. So today, Wilson brings some of it along to toss to children when the car stops.
“Where did you get that automobile?” one child asks him. Wilson laughs, according to the newspaper. No report of actually responding, though.
. . .
Thursday, January 8, 1914
Yet more golf. “The President’s life in Pass Christian has been simple,” the Tennesseean reported. “Except for a daily game of golf he has been at home most of the time. He never has spent an evening away from the family circle.”
. . .
Friday, January 9, 1914
The locals are on to Wilson.
“So carefully has Mr. Wilson followed a consistent program of work, proportioned with exercise and rest, that the people of this section hardly realize the the president of the United States had been dwelling in their midst…,” the Jennings Daily Times Record reported. “To the people of the string of towns and hamlets along the southern coast, the president has been more or less of a puzzle. He said he appreciated their desire to entertain him but declined their invitations to visit schools view places of historical interest, attend balls, theatres and those diverse social entertainments of which southern hospitality boasts at this season fo the year.”
Oh God, he’s gonna have to go to that reception.
. . .
The Greenville (S.C.) News (Jan. 11, 1914)
Saturday, January 10, 1914
One last round of golf at the country club on a beautiful 67-degree day. The last round of a golf trip is always bittersweet, but this one is more bittersweet than most, because of what comes next: that godforsaken public reception. Nearly 2,000 people attend, among them “[p]retty girls, aged Confederate veterans in gray uniforms, mothers carrying their babies and little children by the score,” reported the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Wilson shook every hand. The Post-Dispatch reports that Wilson “apparently enjoyed the occasion immensely” and wore a “cordial smile.” How could he not? He’s leaving Sunday night.
. . .
Tuesday, January 13, 1914
The Wilsons arrive back in Washington. It is 18 degrees outside. But Wilson looks good! “The President’s face was a picture of health as he got back to his desk,” the Times Democrat reported. Wilson’s physician “pronounced him much better physically than he has been for many months. There was little doubt among the members of the President’s party that the Chief Executive would go to some point on the Gulf coast every winter hereafter. He is delighted with the opportunities for golf, the balmy air, even temperature and the seclusion which he enjoyed.”