Of all the programs undertaken by Franklin Delano Roosevelt, none was more personal than the National Infantile Paralysis Foundation.

Polio
Polio is the common name given to “infantile paralysis,” a contagious and horrible disease, thankfully near eradication today. It was not only fatal to a significant population, but permanently crippled nearly all who were infected. To make it worse, it focused mostly on children. If they managed to survive, they were robbed of childhood itself. They would never run and play and dance.
Oddly enough, in 1921, unsuccessful Democratic candidate for Vice President Franklin Delano Roosevelt was nearly forty when he contracted polio. Within a short time, it became obvious that his high fevers and muscle pain was far more than a bout of influenza.
He spent the better part of the next decade focusing on regaining his health and mobility. Despite his monumental successes and services to his country and the world, he never regained his mobility, and never walked again without heavy braces or other aids. And in those days, keeping a low profile on his disability was crucial to any political plans he might have.
Warm Springs

By the mid-20s, FDR had discovered that warm water exercise was more beneficial to his recovery and general health than just about any other treatment. Warm Springs, GA, originally called Bullochville, was a tiny village that had been known as a spa for several decades, due to its mineral springs that remain at a constant near-90-degrees.

Roosevelt, a wealthy New York patrician, was impressed by the springs, and how much better he was able to function in those waters. The town, however, was poor and run-down, with limited facilities and comforts. FDR plowed a substantial part of his inheritance into forming a foundation to create a convalescent and therapeutic facility for polio patients – mostly children. He engaged his former law partner and friend Basil O’Connor to manage the legal and financial details.

While it never became the thriving invalid spa that FDR had envisioned, it was nevertheless highly successful in recruiting fine medical and therapeutic specialists. Once FDR was NY Governor and later President, Warm Springs became a location known to just about every household.
The Foundation
By 1938, FDR was in his second term as President, burdened by a Great Depression that of itself was crippling the country. He was also concerned about seriously unsettling events in Europe that would envelop the world within a year. He did not have the luxury of his once-frequent trips to his “Little White House” as it was called, in Warm Springs.

But he was still deeply concerned about it, and its potential to provide treatment for polio patients. And he was even more determined that the scientific community find a cure.
In 1938, there was no precedent for “government” support (i.e. funding) for health research. And the President had enough on his plate, and plenty of opponents to thwart any such efforts. And there wasn’t enough money, anyway.
The New Foundation
FDR re-engaged his old friend O’Connor to repurpose his Warm Springs Foundation into the National Infantile Paralysis Foundation, specifically to provide medical research for a cure, and services and aid for polio patients. They would depend on subscriptions, or private donations for funding. Grass roots programs to raise money had been popular for decades, whether it was to provide for Civil War widows and orphans, or building the pedestal for the Statue of Liberty.
The idea was that if 1 million people contributed a dime – only a dime – affordable even during the Depression, they would have $100,000. Once the paperwork was completed and filed, the power of the press was called upon to further the cause.
The Nickname
Within a day or two, letters came trickling in. Perhaps a few hundred.
Then Eddie Cantor, a well-known star of stage, screen and radio, mentioned the new campaign to fight the scourge of polio, and urged people to “send a dime” to the President at the White House. Drawing on a popular magazine and newsreel series called “The March of Time,” Cantor called the President’s program “The March of Dimes.”
It was short, it was catchy, it was recognizable, and it worked.
Within a week, more than 300,000 letters were received at the White House. Mostly dimes, many of which were from children, who wanted to help other children dance and play. Then there were contributions of quarters. Some people contributed dollars. Some wrote larger checks.

Villages, towns and cities across the country formed committees to “adopt” the March of Dimes as their pet charity, and planned banquets and dinners and fairs and events to raise money. The March of Dimes continued to attract national, and even worldwide support for years.
The Outcome
Franklin Delano Roosevelt died in 1945, and never saw the reality of his dream: finding the cause and cure and prevention of polio – funded by the March of Dimes.
Cures for terrible diseases do not happen overnight. Many hours of research, trial and error are necessary. Most efforts fail, or are only incrementally successful. By the 1940s, two young scientists were working independently to develop a cure for viral diseases. By the 1950s, both were independently perfecting and developing a vaccine for polio. Both Dr. Albert Sabin and Dr. Jonas Salk had been engaged in projects heavily funded by the March of Dimes for years.
Both vaccines resulted in a huge drop in polio cases shortly after they were administered.
Today, the scourge of polio is practically eradicated, but the March of Dimes, once again repurposed and rebranded to combat birth defects still continues.
Roosevelt’s legacy is large and widespread, but the March of Dimes is undoubtedly the one dearest to his heart – especially since it has been so successful.
Sources:
Gallagher, Hugh – FDR’s Splendid Deception – Dodd, Mead, 1984
Lippman, Theodore Jr.- The Squire of Warm Springs – Playboy Press, 1977
https://www.medpagetoday.com/pediatrics/generalpediatrics/74711
https://www.nps.gov/nr/travel/presidents/roosevelts_little_white_house.html


There were also fancy dress “Birthday Balls” each year in major cities to raise money on FDR’s birthday, January. My stepmother swore there was an inadvertent headline one year in the Hartford Courant, “Roosevelt’s Balls Go Off Tonight.”
Priceless!!!