Harry Truman's Excellent Adventure - Matthew Algeo [117]
The preoperative examinations complete, Grover dressed in his usual dark suit and joined Commodore Benedict on the deck for a leisurely breakfast. They were joined by Bryant and Lamont, who had returned from their homes. The mood was relaxed, but the president’s famously voracious appetite was absent. He had only coffee and toast, though even that was too much. Surgical patients today are instructed to fast immediately before an operation, to minimize the risk of vomiting and possibly choking while anesthetized.
Grover Cleveland (seated right) and “Commodore” Elias Benedict (standing right) on the deck of the Oneida in 1898, five years after the operation. NEW JERSEY STATE PARK SERVICE; PHOTO RESTORATION BY AL J. FRAZZA
After breakfast, it was solemnly noted, the president “moved his bladder and bowels in a natural manner.”
Benedict ordered anchors aweigh, and the Oneida began steaming up the East River at half speed. It was a clear, bright Saturday morning, and the water was crowded with ferries and trawlers and schooners and even a few other yachts, but they all made way for the majestic Oneida, its spotless white hull gleaming in the fetid water. Like a bride gliding down the aisle, the boat effortlessly sailed the narrow channel between Manhattan and Queens. Cleveland, Benedict, Bryant, and Lamont sat casually on the deck chatting, looking to all the world like four carefree gentlemen on a pleasure cruise. On both shores, crowds gathered to catch a glimpse of the grand yacht and its esteemed passengers.
The rest of the surgical team was hidden from view. “Passing the foot of 56th Street opposite Bellevue Hospital,” Dr. Erdmann remembered, “Dr. Bryant was particularly careful that we on board should not be recognized by any of the staff of Bellevue Hospital looking out. We went into the cabin so that we should not be recognized.”
After navigating the treacherous currents of the Hell Gate, the Oneida turned eastward and headed for the cleaner, bluer, bigger waters of Long Island Sound. The weather was perfect, and, much to everyone’s relief, the water was calm. As the Oneida entered the sound, the mood on board turned more serious. When Bryant excused himself to join the other doctors below deck, he called out to the captain jokingly, “If you hit a rock, hit it good and hard, so that we’ll all go to the bottom!” Nobody laughed.