Calvin Coolidge had a successful run in politics for over twenty years before ultimately becoming president of the United States in 1923. Throughout Coolidge's first term as president, he worked long, hard hours, was active in Congress, and maintained a strong relationship with the media. This changed, however, during the second term of his presidency. Less than a month after his second-term election, Coolidge's son died of blood poisoning. This traumatic event caused the President to enter into a deep depression. In his autobiography, Coolidge admitted that when his son died, the power and glory of the presidency went with him. His grief, which has since been coined pathological grief, had an effect on the President's mind, body and spirit. President Coolidge lost interest in his job and began sleeping fourteen hours a day, ultimately earning a reputation as one of the most ineffectual presidents ever to hold office. His depression rendered him incapable of making decisions, and as a result most of his duties were delegated to members of his Cabinet. Though the White House knew for four years that Coolidge's depression rendered him incompetent, he remained in office until the end of his second term.

The presidents' mental health.

This article examines what a public forum is, and whether or not a library can legitimately claim to be one. Beginning with an imaginary visit to a rather odd public park, and a brief review of the development of the legal doctrine of the public forum, an attempt is made to establish that the library 1) falls far short of being a genuine public forum, 2) is actually ambivalent about being a forum at all, and 3) could, if it really wanted to, become much more of a forum by making a very simple change in its online catalog.

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Do You Really Want to Be a Forum

Scholars say that 90% of the ideas that have shaped our democracy have come from third parties. These include a women's [sic] right to vote, abolition of slavery, and the minimum wage, all issues that had been ignored--vehemently opposed, actually--by the two main parties. If we close out the debates to third party ideas, we are sounding the death knell for democracy.--John Hagelin (1) I. INTRODUCTION In early 1998, former professional wrestler, movie star, and Navy SEAL Jesse "the Body" Ventura began to indicate that he intended to run in the Minnesota gubernatorial race. Ventura chose to run as a third party candidate: he had worked as a campaign manager for other Reform Party candidates in the past, and the Party felt he fit with the image of their founder, Texas maverick Ross Perot. (2) While Ventura's name recognition and offbeat antics initially endeared him to many voters, by late September his support in the polls had dropped to only 10%: by contrast, Hubert Humphrey III, the frontrunner, was generating 49% support. (3) A series of debates were scheduled to begin in early October. Despite Ventura's low support at the time, he was invited to participate, in large part because his staff chairman was also co-director of the "Minnesota Compact," a program geared toward improving the 1998 campaign (including the candidate debates). (4) As the debates went on, viewers warmed to Ventura's nonpartisan message railing against "politics as usual." (5) By October 20--less than three weeks after the first debate--Ventura's support had risen from 10% to 21%; meanwhile, Humphrey and his Republican foe, Norm Coleman, had fallen into a virtual dead heat. (6) One commentator noted that Humphrey's slide and Ventura's gain were both in large part due to their debate performances. (7) The debates continued. After the final debate, held in a public television station in October, Ventura's support had risen again, to 27%. (8) By the election, Ventura captured the state governorship with 37% of the vote, while Humphrey finished last with only 28%. (9) The Humphrey camp openly acknowledged that their biggest mistake in the campaign was insisting that Ventura be included in the debates. (10) In the end, Ventura's camp admitted that, had he not hit "a home run" in the first debate, his poll numbers likely never would have risen and he would not have been elected. (11) Jesse Ventura's story may be the exception to the rule, but it makes an important point: had the stagers of the debate chosen to invite only the major party candidates, Ventura almost certainly would not have been elected. There is no stronger illustration of the importance of debates in today's political world--particularly for third party candidates lacking the strong financial and historical support of a well-established campaign machine behind them. The Supreme Court once noted that "the primary values protected by the First Amendment ... are served when election campaigns are not monopolized by the existing political parties." (12) However, the Court made a mockery of that statement when it ruled, in Arkansas Educational Television Commission v. Forbes, (13) that public broadcasters could exclude third party candidates from debates so long as their reasons for doing so did not constitute viewpoint discrimination." (14) The Forbes ruling essentially closed the door to minor party candidates successfully campaigning for public office unless those candidates, like Ventura, are fortunate enough--either through name recognition or other political connection--to be included in the debates. The situation is no better for candidates seeking to participate in debates not hosted by public broadcasters. Under the current state of the law, these candidates cannot even be considered for inclusion unless they have significant support in national polls. (15) While many bills have come before Congress in the last decade seeking to change this requirement, none have passed. …

Tim Cramm

Papers

The Designated Nonpublic Forum: Remedying the Forbes Mistake