Love it or hate it, presidential children put in world spotlight
Jackie Kennedy, irked that living in the White House was "like living in a zoo -- only we're the animals," secretly took her daughter, Caroline, trick-or-treating one Halloween in Washington's Georgetown neighborhood. Caroline went as a witch. Both mom and daughter wore masks.
All went well until the first lady arrived at the home of one of her husband's advisers.
"Hi, Jackie!" the aide said.
"How did you know?" asked Kennedy.
The aide pointed to two trench coat-clad Secret Service agents lurking in the fog.
President-elect Barack Obama, who had his own patience tried with the media while trick-or-treating with his daughters in Kenwood this year, and his wife, Michelle, will find raising 7-year-old Sasha and 10-year-old Malia a challenge, if history is any indicator.
Kids who have called 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. home are members of a unique club, one that carries inconveniences but also creates special memories. For the most part, Caroline Kennedy remembers her years fondly, riding her pony Macaroni on the White House lawn and having the Marine band play "Old MacDonald Had a Farm" as her own version of "Hail to the Chief."
But there can be pitfalls, too, says Doug Wead, author of All The President's Children.
Examining the histories of about 160 offspring of presidents, Wead found that, early in the nation's history, many of the children had troubled adulthoods, with high rates of divorce, alcoholism and premature death. "Some seemed bent on self-destruction,'' he writes.
Today, "while the public still expects more from a presidential child, their rates of divorce and alcoholism are actually no higher than average and their incidents of premature death are now far lower,'' Wead says.
Still, the life of a presidential child is a complicated one, he says: "Like water, the fame of a president's child reaches every little corner of the world. ... A president's child is loved or hated everywhere.''
Wead says potential trouble is born as first kids try, as all kids do, to develop a sense of identity. Michelle Obama has said her daughters will "continue to be the center of our universe." But Wead writes: "The quest for personal identity is often smothered by the president's power and celebrity."
Jack Ford, one of Gerald Ford's three sons, is reminded of his status every time he meets a stranger: "You can tell that they are looking through you to some image they have of your father, the president,'' he told Wead. "You feel almost nonexistent, like you are standing in front of a symbol.''
Luci Baines Johnson hated her role as a first child. "I was so desperately looking to be normal. One way out of this fishbowl was to marry'' at age 19, she has said.
The White House can be a fun house, though. Tad Lincoln dressed in an army uniform and reviewed the troops with his father, Abraham. Quentin Roosevelt, a son of Theodore, was the leader of a mischievous crew of children dubbed the White House Gang, shooting spitballs at a portrait of Andrew Jackson and throwing snowballs from the White House roof at guards. Susan Ford hosted her high school prom at the White House and wrote a weekly column for Seventeen magazine: "It was pretty hard to beat,'' she told Wead.
Many offspring went on to do great things themselves: Eight were elected to Congress, Margaret Truman became a best-selling author, and Rutherford P. Hayes helped found the American Library Association. Herbert Hoover Jr. -- Time magazine called him a genius -- became an engineer and developed weapons systems.
Presidents have found their children can serve as a window to the world.
In his memoir Sharing Good Times, Jimmy Carter, whose daughter, Amy, went to public school in D.C., said meals with his family were an eye-opener.
"I learned that people who had criticisms or complaints were more likely to express them to my family than to me," Carter said. "Rosalynn and the children relished the opportunity to relay them.''








