Hometown Birthday

The scene, on a chilly day last week, was an old sepia-toned photo come to life. In the background was "Old Abilene Town"--opera house, livery stable, chapel, railroad depot--all restored to preserve the flavor of the cattle-trail days of early Kansas. In the foreground on the lawn of the Eisenhower Museum were dignitaries, schoolchildren, townsfolk--10,000 people in all. Across the way, where soon would come the slam and crunch of bulldozers, was the site of the Eisenhower Presidential library; near by. the white clapboard house where Ike Eisenhower was reared.

As the north wind sliced through his home town, and the thermometer stood at 41DEG, the President of the U.S. removed his hat and topcoat, and stepped up to address the spectators: "Whenever I return here," said he, "I invariably sense, in these surroundings, an atmosphere of simplicity and peace ... My mind goes back nostalgically to the conditions I knew as a boy. We did not then know the term 'world tension'; life was peaceful, serene and happy."

Cross Section. When he concluded his state paper on U.S. hopes for a prosperous, free world, the President took a chrome steel spade that was inscribed: Here, in the Heart of America, Dwight D. Eisenhower learned the Lessons of Youth which shaped his rise to stalwart leader and fearless fighter for the rights of man in the era of liberty's greatest trial. He drove the spade into the ground and turned over the first pile of Abilene earth on the plot where the $3,000,000 Eisenhower Library will stand (said he, when photographers asked for the inevitable "one more": "I'm halfway down to China now, fellas"). At a luncheon later, he spoke feelingly of the "very deep, sentimental meaning" that Abilene still holds for him. From its "heyday of, let's say, Wild West hilarity and even worse," Abilene has become a "community of Godfearing, hardworking, simple people. It seems to me there's a sort of cross section of the deep convictions that truly motivate the U.S."

The sentiment that caught up the President last week was attributable to the fact that he was among old friends and old memories. One other contributing fact: when he awoke in the sixth-floor suite of the Sunflower Hotel one morning, Dwight Eisenhower had turned 69 (b! Oct. 14, 1890). With Andrew Jackson and James Buchanan, he became the third U.S. President to reach that age in office.

Change. As he threaded cheerfully among the guests at a birthday reception, urging his friends to take bites from a piece of cake, the remarkable fact was that he looked less than ever like a political patriarch or a wise (or wizened) old man. The years had marked him in many ways: the yellow is gone from his hair (indeed, most of the hair is gone); his face and neck are heavily lined. But the spring in his step, the athletic bearing and carriage, all were firm and strong, and the quick laugh and quicker grin marked a personality that had not lost its joy in life. "President Eisenhower," noted the New York Times's Arthur Krock, "entered his seventieth year this week, the first White House incumbent of that age who did not resemble the contemporary concept of 'an old man.' "

His staff is aware of subtle changes in manner that also belie his age. At 69, Dwight Eisenhower is less set in his ways than he was when he first took the Presidential oath of office at 62. He has become at once more pragmatic and more flexible and adaptable--even foxy in his skillful handling of Congress and his new-found warm relations with the press. He has become more and more at ease in office, while making it clear that he would be more than happy to get out of it.

Roses. Still savoring the memories, the President flew back to Washington from Abilene at the end of his overnight stay. At the White House, the U.S. Army Chorus surprised him with a medley of tunes: Happy Birthday, The Yellow Rose of Texas, and one of his favorites, Army Blue ("We'll bid farewell to Kaydet Gray, and don the Army Blue . . .")-The White House employees had filled a huge vase with 69 roses, and the executive staff presented him with four matched bridge chairs for the Gettysburg farm. The famed Eisenhower grin showed that the President felt quite at home in Washington, too.

Last week the President also: P:Issued, with Mexico's visiting President Adolfo Lopez Mateos, a communique that reaffirmed Mexican-U.S. ideals, spent half an hour with Premier Abdallah Ibrahim of Morocco, presumably talking over Morocco's reluctance to renew the lease of key U.S. air bases. P:Accepted with regret the resignation of Virginia's former Governor John S. Battle from the Civil Rights Commission, started the tough job of finding another Southerner to serve in Battle's place. P:Nominated John D. Hickerson, able U.S. Ambassador to Finland since 1955, to succeed Washington-bound Ambassador Charles ("Chip") Bohlen in Manila.

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