Dartmouth in the New Deal
An Interview withRobert Lincoln O'Brien '91
OF FOUR UNDERGRADUATES in the class of 1891 who occupied the second floor of the old Miner House at Dartmouth, only one survives. Harry S. Holton of Burlington, Vermont; Frank W. Plummer of Maiden, Massachusetts, and Frank B. Chapman of Kittery, Maine all have gone along. Only Robert Lincoln O'Brien lives. Today he, a Republican, sits as chairman of the United States Tariff Commission in a Democratic administration which fact is eloquent enough testimony of the ability with which the man has discharged the duties of his office.
When your scrivener was admitted to Mr. O'Brien's presence, that rather elongated and altogether cordial gentleman rocked his swivel back to a comfortable angle, cocked his feet up on a corner of the desk, and otherwise prepared himself to discuss things obviously close to his heart. In spite of the fact that Bob spent only one year at Dartmouth, the College may boast of but few more loyal alumni. He regularly attends reunions of his class. By the time you have read this, Prexy Hopkins will have been Bob's guest at the dinner of the Gridiron Club, famed organization of Washington newspaper correspondents, which annually pans the Administration in many a satirically good-natured skit.
The chairman of the Tariff Commission got as far as the above-mentioned Miner House in his reminiscences when he must have become impressed by the unintelligent expression which spread itself over the ordinarily serene countenance of your interviewer. He said: "Oh, that's so, you are too young to remember when the Miner House was used as a dormitory. It is the frame-building which stands, or did stand, behind Bissel Hall. It is now used, I believe, to house the employees of the Hanover Inn." It is a fact that we didn't know the building was known as Miner House, or that it had been used once by the College as a dormitory. On the other hand, we did know a waitress who once lived there—but perhaps we'd better not go into that. We simply ask pardon for the facetious observation that inasmuch as the abode was once known as the Miner House, ?t might, under present circumstances, justify the name Gold-digger House.
MR. O'BRIEN, it occurs to us, is an example of your out and out writer or author he has always felt an impelling urge to say something. For the greater part of his life he said it on paper. More latterly he has voiced it. He is of that earlier school of writers whose apprenticeship was served as a stenographer (before that profession was dignified by the name secretary) to one busy man or another. His type writer, the first that clicked out theme Papers under old Miner's eaves, was long 'he center of curiosity among men in that dormitory. During his one memorable Dartmouth year, he was the stenographer of James F. Colby, professor of poltical science, whose sight was failing. After completing his education at Harvard, he became a reporter on the staff of the Boston Transcript. In 1892 he served as stenographer for Grover Cleveland who, at the time, had just received the Republican nomination for President. With Cleveland's election, Bob went to the White House, remaining with the President until November 1, 1895. Thereafter began a long career in writing which was to carry him to journalistic fame.
Eleven years ensued during which time he was Washington correspondent for the Transcript and the New York EveningPost. In 1906 he became editor of the Transcript, serving in that capacity until 1910 when he was chosen president of a company which secured control of the Boston Herald, then in receivership. As editor of that paper, he had the tremendous satisfaction of watching it become, under his hands, as important a requisite to Boston's breakfasts as beans to its Saturday's supers. He retired in 1928. Thenceforward Bob's urge to say something was given voice rather than batted out on a type writer.
TED JOSLIN, President Hoover's secretary, (whose son, Richard, is a Dartmouth freshman) was on the other end of the line. "No, I'm not at liberty to tell you why, Bob, but the President wants to see you tomorrow." "Gosh, Ted, I've got a speaking engagement tonight. I don't see." "Look here, old man, perhaps I didn't make it clear. I said the President of the United States wants to see you tomorrow." "Oh—um—oh, of course, Ted, I'll be there in the morning." Next morning at nine o'clock, he strode into Ted's office at the White House. "I'm positively up to my neck, Bob. Can you come back later? We'll have lunch together." "But tell me what the President wants me for, Ted." "No, I can't do it, Bob. Make it twelve o'clock then, eh?"
At lunch Bob insisted on knowing. "I think the President wants you to be chairman of the United States Tariff Commission," Ted said. "I accept!" shouted Bob, willing to let Ted have his little joke. "Now no fooling, Ted, what does." A few hours later he learned of his appointment by President Hoover, and a few days later of his confirmation as a member of the Commission until 1936. Twice he was named chairman by President Hoover; once by Franklin D. Roosevelt, regardless of the fact that Bob told him he ought to install a Democrat.
In spite of some opposition on the part of his Republican friends, Bob favors passage of the tariff bill now under discussion in Congress. "Under the present law," he says, "the President has power to alter the tariff fifty per cent on a cost of production basis—a basis neither scientific nor accurate, but a matter of accountancy. Under the proposed bill he would be given the same power, no more, but to be exercised in pursuance of successful trade agreements. I defended the bill for more than three hours before the House Ways and Means Committee the other day. I believe it is sound legislation."
Between times Bob is in great demand as a speaker on the tariff subject. Recently he addressed the Surf Club at Miami, Florida, and his date book reveals future engagements at Chattanooga, Tennessee; Princeton, New Jersey; and Newton, Massachusetts. No man is better qualified to speak with authority on the question of United States tariff law that Robert Lincoln O'Brien.
THERE SEEMS to be something about the climate of Abington, Massachusetts where Bob was born on September 14, 1865 which produces square-jawed men. Bob's next-door-neighbor and good friend was none other than his fisticuffing eminence, John L. Sullivan. A lot of water has run under the bridge since Abington da,ys, however, and home for him now is at Dedham, Massachusetts. He also maintains a suite of rooms at The Highlands in Washington where he lives with Mrs. O'Brien. She was Miss Emily A. Young of Lisbon, New Hampshire, and Bob's bride on February 19, 1895. She enjoyed herself so thoroughly at his 40th in 1931 that she vowed she'd return every five years whether he did or not.
Their daughter, Miriam, is a mountain climber of international reknown. The Via Miriam in the Tyrolean Alps was named in her honor when she became the first to reach its summit. She is now Mrs. Robert L. M. Underhill of Newton Center, Massachusetts. Their son, Lincoln, a recent graduate of Harvard, Harvard Law, and the Pulitizer School of Journalism at Columbia, is associated with the Beverly (Mass.) Evening Times. He inherits his father's interest in journalism, and anticipates the day when he becomes publisher of a small daily.
Thus Robert Lincoln O'Brien able writer, editor, excellent speaker and conversationalist, avid theatergoer, expert on tariff law, Republican new dealer (of all paradoxes!), Deke, and good Dartmouth man. He stays young by associating with young men, and in spite of the fact that his next will be his seventieth birthday, he thinks far ahead of his day.
Republican Commissioner
