It was about 8 p.m., Oct. 14, 1912, and Theodore Roosevelt had just exited the Hotel Gilpatrick in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The former president (or “the Colonel,” as the rough-riding Spanish-American War veteran preferred, though “TR” or “the Bull Moose” were fine, too – just don’t call him “Teddy”) put on a cheerful face. But he was exhausted. The Colonel had arrived in town that same day. His voice was still hoarse from campaigning in Chicago.
But TR couldn’t let up. He had steep competition in his bid to return to the White House for another and non-consecutive term. There was the professorial New Jersey Governor Woodrow Wilson, running what TR considered a knock off his own progressivism. Another was President William Taft; if only Will had carried the torch of progressivism “right,” so the Colonel thought, he (TR) could’ve stayed retired and not mounted this challenge that had ruined their friendship and ripped the Republican Party in two. Finally — Eugene Debs. The perennial socialist candidate didn’t have a chance but was popular enough; he’d draw votes and impact the election.
Pushing past the fatigue, TR climbed into a roofless automobile outside the hotel. The crowd cheered their “Bull Moose.” Flashing his signature smile, the bespectacled, mustachioed colonel stood in the open vehicle and waved his hat.
Then it happened: 36-year-old John Schrank raised his Colt revolver and fired at near point-blank range into the former president and present-presidential candidate’s chest.
TR, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Ronald Reagan, Andrew Jackson and Gerald Ford: All five faced close calls with gunmen seeking to end their lives. This past week, former President Donald Trump became the sixth in their ranks.
Meanwhile, assassins’ bullets ended the lives of presidents Abraham Lincoln, James Garfield, William McKinley and John F. Kennedy. To put that another way: More than 20% of United States presidents have faced a close-call assassination attempt and nearly half of those attempts succeeded. Most of us would change jobs given those odds. The unfortunate reality is that being president (Republican, Democrat, doesn’t matter) isn’t a safe gig.
This isn’t to say that presidential assassination attempts are no big deal. Of course they are. Even in failing, these undemocratic, abhorrent, violent acts do irreversible harm — like the tragic death of Corey Comperatore, killed at the Pennsylvania event.
It is to say, however, that they happen. Yet, that can be consoling — hear me out — if we follow it to some important realizations.
Let’s realize that this history means our nation has survived these despicable acts of political violence several times over; and that, in turn, tells us an assassination attempt in and of itself does not signal an unprecedented low for our nation; and that we can — as several times previously! — renew our commitment to peaceful discourse within our republic.
How do we achieve such a renewal? A few thoughts:
The attempt on former President Trump’s life was traumatic. It’s led us to pause and contemplate our path. If history tells us anything though, that pause will be short and carry little long-term impact. Even after TR took a bullet to the chest, survived and gave a speech that same night, the nation did not send him back to the White House — what role this attempt on Trump will or won’t play remains uncertain.
If we wish to make this pause meaningful, let’s think well past November as we reflect, to paraphrase Ben Franklin, on our republic and how we will keep it.
Greg Jackson, Ph.D., is best known as the creator & host of the top-charting podcast, History That Doesn’t Suck.
Greg Jackson, Ph.D., is best known as the creator & host of the top-charting podcast, “History That Doesn’t Suck.” He is also an associate professor at Utah Valley University, where he’s the Senior Fellow in National Security Studies and a Fellow in Integrated Studies.
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