Every
generation thinks they invented sex. Because of certain puritanical regulations
laid down on early film and tv media, it’s easy to think of our ancestors as
being prissy, frigid, and scared of sex. Nothing was further from the truth.
Let’s not forget the same generation that went to fight the Nazis (The Greatest
Generation) came home and fucked their brains out, spawning the largest
population growth in the history of this country- and saddling the further
generation with having to deal with the Baby Boomers.
And
along with the carnal act, the presidential sex scandal also has a long and wonderful
history in our country. In this case we’ll look at the one involving Warren
Harding, easily one of our crappiest presidents (see the Teapot Dome Scandal),
had an affair with 16 year old Nan Britton and laid a bastard child upon her at
19.
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| President Warren Harding |
She
wrote a book in 1927 (after he had died) called The President’s Daughter stating all of this. Below are a few
choice excerpts- keep in mind, she offers almost no evidence to support this,
but a hidden cache of love letters uncovered in 1964 and a DNA test in 2015
confirmed most of her statements.
“In
June of that spring, 1921, I made my first trip to Washington…
“As
soon as I reached Washington I connected with Tim on the phone. It seems to me
he told me my appointment with Mr. Harding had already been arraigned. In any
event, Tim called for me at my hotel and escorted me to the White House.
“Needless
to say, I ‘took in’ everything I could on that first visit. We entered the
executive offices through the main entrance, which is the entrance on the right
of the White House portico, and passed through the wall leading to the Cabinet
room. Here we waited for Mr. Harding.
 |
| Nan Britton |
“While
we waited, I observed the Cabinet Room with less awe, I guess, than natural
curiosity. There was a long table around which stood the substantial chairs of
the twelve men who met here every Tuesday morning and every Friday morning,
each chair having the name of the particular Cabinet member engraved upon a
little metal plaque which was fastened on the back. A fire place, a clock on
the mantelpiece, and a few pictures completed the furnishings. Mr. Harding’s
chair at the head of the table interested me most, and I stroked the back of it
and sipped stale water from a partially filled glass which stood on the table
in front of the President’s chair. So this was where sat the leaders of the
greatest nation in the world! I recalled articles I had read about this awesome
office. One had recently appeared in the New York Times and was entitled, ‘At
the Keyhole of the Cabinet Room’. But I was not at the keyhole. I was on the
really and truly inside!
“We
had been waiting only a very few minutes when Mr. Harding opened the door, a
door immediately behind and opposite his Cabinet Room chair. He greeted me
cordially and instructed Tim to remain in the Cabinet Room. Then I preceded him
into a very small adjoining room, a room with one window. He explained to me
that this was the ante-room and crossed over to another door which lead over
into his own private office.
“Once
in there, he turned and took me in his arms and told me what I could see in his
face – that he was delighted to see me. Not more delighted, however, than I was
to see him.
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| Mother and illegitimate daughter |
“There
were windows along one side of the room which looked out upon the green of the
White House grounds, and outside, stalking up and down, face rigidly to the
front, moved the President’s armed guard. But in spite of this apparent obliviousness
on the part of the guard, we were both skeptical and Mr. Harding said to me
that people have eyes in the sides of their heads down there and so we must be
very circumspect. Whereupon he introduced me to the one place where, he said,
he thought we might share kisses in safety. This was a small closet in
the ante-room, evidently a place for hats and coats, but entirely empty most of
the times we used it, for we repaired there many times in the course of my
visits to the White House, and in the darkness of a space not more than five
feet square the President of the United States and his adoring sweetheart made
love.”
