Prologue

April18, 1963

Washington, D.C.

"It's such an honor to meet you, Mrs.Harriman."

Daisy Harriman roused herself from her usual afternoon bask in the sun and reluctantly turned from the window. She loved this

room overlooking the garden and filled with sunlight. The sun was kind to old bones, and hers had been around for a good ninety-two

years.

She smiled across at the eager young journalist who sat perched on the edge of the chintz armchair, her notepad and pencil

held at the ready, part Emily Post, part Jacob Riis. So enthusiastic, so energetic and determined. And for a moment, Daisy

was that young woman, with all the world before her. But that was behind her now. Daisy and other like-minded women had forced

their way into their rightful place in the twentieth century. A new generation would carry on from here.

"How does it feel to be the first-ever recipient of President Kennedy's Citation of Merit award?"

They both looked at the wall where the framed certificate hung in a place of honor. Citation of Merit for Distinguished Service to Florence Jaffray Hurst Harriman. Daisy was proud to have done her small part. Bordie would have been amused, and proud, but neither her husband nor her daughter,

Ethel, had lived to see it. She was quite alone now.

And yet never quite alone: she had been one of many and they were still with her in spirit, if not in life. No, never quite alone.

"You've had such an astounding career," the journalist, whose name was Meg, continued. "Social reformer, union organizer,

politician, diplomat. And to think that you began accomplishing all these things before women even had the right to vote."

She made it sound like ancient history, Daisy thought, and yet it seemed not so long ago when she and the ladies of the Colony

Club first marched in support of the women garment workers, fought for the purity of food, for decent housing for the poor—for

the right to vote. Her stint as Minister to Norway under Roosevelt during the war that changed the world seemed like yesterday.

"You were a young society matron living comfortably in New York City. You could so easily have been content with that life,

donating to various causes from the comfort of your home. And yet you chose to lead. You took to the streets to protest the

inequities of society. Risked your reputation and your physical safety to inaugurate change. You even barely escaped the German

occupation of Norway with your life when you were minister there.

"You have served as an inspiration to so many. Can you tell me..."

"Yes?"

"What inspired you to step out of your secure life and throw yourself into the causes that would change the landscape of American

culture forever?"

Daisy chuckled. "Oh, dear, did I do all that? Well, if you must know, it all began one summer, when I couldn't get a room

at the Waldorf..."