Renovations Make White House Blue

in #humor3 months ago

News of the East Wing of the White House, which isn't there anymore, made me wonder just how many changes have been made to the Executive Mansion over the years. I mean, besides changing its name.

The building is young, by European standards. George Washington picked out its location, about an equal distance between the local Starbucks and a CVS Pharmacy. (George was getting old.)

I doubt Washington was involved in naming the city itself. He seemed pretty humble, starting a tradition followed by at least two other Presidents.

The cornerstone was laid in 1791, and the most American of houses was designed by an Irishman and built by slaves. John and Abigail Adams moved there in 1800, despite the fact that little things, such as the staircase, hadn't been installed. It's said their children enjoyed sliding down a pole designed by Benjamin Franklin, one of America's first firefighters.

White House Ben Franklin fire.jpg

In 1798 workers splashed whitewash on the sandstone exterior, making what was called the Executive Mansion a ... white house. It wasn't until 1901 that Theodore Roosevelt officially changed the name.

James and Dolley Madison had to move out in a big hurry in 1814, when British troops arrived. It seems American forces had burned down the capitol of Canada during the War of 1812, and the Brits were itching for some payback. The soldiers piled up furniture and bedding, soaked the pile with lamp oil, and by morning only scorched walls were left.

The next day a thunderstorm and tornado stopped the spread of flames and scattered the British troops, forcing them to leave Washington. We've all had fantasies of Washington being swept clean, and this time it actually happened.

I'll bet you can't guess, once the White House was rebuilt, the color of the walls.

White House porticoes.jpg.webp

That was also the first addition to the building. Since the whole place had to be rebuilt from the ground up anyway, the original architect added porticoes. I like my porticoes with butter and a little garlic salt.

A century after its first occupation, the White House was filled to the brim by Teddy Roosevelt, Edith, and their six children. Acting on the suggestion that business and family areas be separated, workers tore down greenhouses and extended the White House west, with what was called the Temporary Executive Office. These days we call it the West Wing, and like many things in Washington, it turned out to not be temporary at all.

Nine years later President Taft expanded the West Wing to install what's now called the Oval Office. Perhaps that's related to the fact that Taft's waistline expanded itself, in his Presidential years.

White House roof work.jpg.webp

Over time paperwork and old equipment built up in the White House attic, and isn't that just typical? Mine, too. Then President Coolidge discovered the roof trusses, over 110 years old, were ready to crash into his favorite breakfast cereal, which as we all know was Trix.

In typical Washington fashion, not only did the White House get a new roof, but also a third floor with a solarium, which I thought was a science fiction movie.

A terrace entrance for visitors appeared on the east side of the building in 1902. During WWII a bomb shelter was built east of that, and to cover it workers built the East Wing. In 1977 the First Lady's office was established there. Now separated by wings, Presidents and their wives have gotten along a lot better ever since.

White House East Room.jpg.webp

On Christmas Eve, 1929, the West Wing caught fire. Oh, look at the Christmas colors! Faulty wiring, not fiery speeches, but the attic and roof had to be replaced. The Press Room was damaged, but nobody seemed to mind.

By the time Harry Truman moved in, the White House was 145 years old. Truman noticed drafts and creaky floors, possibly from Abraham Lincoln wandering around. Or possibly from the same old age that made his daughters piano leg break through the floor. Truman, who loved piano music and liked his daughter, brought in engineers to examine the place.

The engineers ran out and refused to return. They didn't see Lincoln's ghost: They saw a place about to fall down around their ears.

For the second time in its history, and White House was gutted right down to the exterior walls. It was rebuilt with a new foundation and sub-basements, concrete floors, and steel frames for the walls, and six more rooms. Truman didn't move back in until 1952.

White House 1950 renovation.jpg.webp

So, the only thing in the White house that remains original are the outside walls.

Every President since then has made changes, all smaller than that. Nixon installed a bowling alley, and turned the swimming pool into the Press Room. Insert your own joke there. Mrs. Obama put in a kitchen garden. First Lady Bird Johnson oversaw a redesign of the East garden. Obama had a basketball court put in, and also did some infrastructure work. The Clintons did a fairly extensive surface renovation.

President Trump's ballroom would be the biggest project on the property since the 50s, and replaces a smaller ballroom. Taxpayer dollars aren't going into it, which makes some worry it might have a big sign with "Meta Platforms Ballroom", or something. My opinion? It's too big.

Just like the government.

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Yeah, whats most needed in times of governmet shut down, cancelled food stamp programs and basicall cancelled everything? A real posh party location.
I think Trump is trying to beat them all, Louis XVI, Mussolini, and next on the list is Nero, I assume. I wonder if he has already chosen a good place for a Colosseum yet.

No taxpayer money is going into it, so it doesn't bother me--much. But it really will be too big. As for the shutdown, the Democrats going on about how it will be good for them politically, then voting against ending it (several times) sickens me. All they had to do was go on with the present budget and hash out the rest later.

No tax money.... Still, if they can collect hundreds of millions, the best purpose for it that comes to his mind is a fucking ballroom? What a head case, seriously.

If I had that kind of dough I'd buy an island. It would have to be big enough for Emily's horses, my writing house and library, and a big woods for those long walks authors like to take. That's the kind of ball I'd like to have.