Caroline squeezed Pina’s hands, then headed downstairs, where plans for swearing in a new president were underway.
George didn’t want the ceremony in the same house where President McKinley’s body still lay, so a home a few blocks down the street was chosen. Members of the cabinet, a judge, and two newspaper reporters would be the only witnesses.
Caroline was grateful she would not need to attend, for the train carrying the president’s body would leave for Washington within a few hours. What a terrible few days lay before them. Had it only been nine months ago when she and George were planning the grand inaugural festivities?
Now they would plan the president’s funeral.
Nathaniel sat at a small table in the kitchen of the Milburn house. Staff took their breakfast here, but he was unable to eat. He just stared, knowing there was something he should be doing but unable to remember what.
Caroline approached. She hunkered down on the kitchen floor, her hand on his knee, and she was saying something, but she spoke too quickly for him to understand.
“What?” he finally asked.
“The security schedule. President Roosevelt’s train leaves for Washington at six o’clock this evening. You’ve got plentyof soldiers from the army who will be aboard, but they need assignments.”
She shoved a paper into his hands. The security form. He needed to fill it out, but hearing Mr. Roosevelt being called president had thrown him.
Because President McKinley was dead, and it was his fault. Now he needed to guard a new president. He set the form on the table, staring at the blank lines needing to be filled in with security personnel. Caroline stood over him, as though she expected him to do it immediately.
“I’ll do this soon,” he said, pushing the form a few inches away. He couldn’t look at it yet and took a long sip of coffee instead. Maybe it would help beat back this avalanche of exhaustion clobbering him. He doubted he could rise from this chair if his life depended on it.
Caroline looked at her watch. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Please have it ready.”
The acid of the coffee ate at his stomach. The thought of being responsible for another president’s life was... well, he couldn’t do it. Not now, anyway. Normally he could fill out this form blindfolded, but not now.
Maybe later. Maybe soon he’d have the strength to stand up and help with the flurry of activities going on around him, but right now it would be far too much effort. He stared at the cup of coffee growing cold before his eyes, wondering what he should do.
Caroline and George juggled telegrams, made lists, and took turns using the Milburn house telephone. They needed to transfer the president’s body, arrange for the lying-in-state at the Capitol, and summon thousands of troops to march in the funeral procession. She wanted church bells to toll along the route as the funeral train made its journey to Washington,and wrote out a list of towns to contact for local arrangements. There would be two memorial services, one in Washington with thousands of dignitaries, and another private ceremony in Ohio. She would make the arrangements for both.
All of it needed to be scheduled within the next twenty-four hours, but the most urgent matter of business was coordinating President Roosevelt’s security on the train to Washington. That duty fell to Nathaniel, but a glance down the hallway showed him still staring blankly at the form. It had been twenty minutes, and he hadn’t made a single mark on it.
George interrupted her thoughts. “Caroline, the hearse to carry President McKinley to the depot is here. Have the flowers arrived yet?”
She glanced at her list of tasks. “I sent a pair of army privates to collect them from the florist. They should be here shortly.”
The president’s hearse would be draped with an American flag and a mourning bouquet of white lilies, but she also wanted red carnations. Mr. McKinley was famous for wearing a red carnation pinned to his lapel each day, and she ordered boutonnieres of red carnations for the men who would accompany his body home.
“And Mrs. McKinley? Will she be able to travel on the president’s train?” George asked.
“Pina says she will. She will be sedated, but I’ve arranged for a private nurse to accompany her. George, I think I need to contact Wilkie.”
“Why?”
She glanced down the hallway toward Nathaniel sitting at the kitchen table. “There’s something wrong with him. He can’t function. We need to assign someone else to oversee security for President Roosevelt’s trip to Washington.”
“Are you sure? I haven’t been paying him any mind.”
She had. Nathaniel had been completely detached ever since McKinley’s death ten hours ago. She scrambled for the most delicate way to phrase the problem.
“He’s taking it badly. He blames himself, and he’s exhausted. We cannot ask this of him.”
George nodded. “Can you handle the telephone call to Wilkie? I just got word that I’ve been asked to witness the swearing-in ceremony. It’s in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
It would break her heart to convey this news to Nathaniel’s friend and supervisor, but she couldn’t ignore the problem, and there was no time for delay.
Six hours later Nathaniel stared out the window of the presidential train as it sped through the countryside, a notebook on his lap with a list of the towns they would pass on the way to Washington. His only official duty was to place a little checkmark beside each church that tolled their bell as the train passed. Caroline planned to send a note of thanks to each of them after the funeral.
