The first woman to work in the White House

Alice Sanger mustered her courage, put on her winter coat, and headed out the door early Thursday morning, January 2, 1890. The first day on a new job is always an anxious day. But it was doubly so for Alice. The 24-year-old walked through the columned north portico of her new place of employment, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, and was welcomed aboard by her new boss, the president of the United States.

Exactly 130 years ago today, Alice Sanger became the first woman to serve on a president’s staff.

True, women had worked in the White House almost since the moment John and Abigail Adams moved into the place in 1800. But women had always worked as maids, cooks, seamstresses, and other domestic roles.

Alice was different.

She was now an assistant secretary to President Benjamin Harrison and First Lady Caroline Harrison. That may not sound impressive to 21st century ears. But the presidential staff was incredibly small at that time — being the first woman to join it was no small accomplishment.

Many modern historians believe Alice’s hiring was intended as a peace offering to the budding women’s movement. It was picking up steam just then and ultimately succeeded in getting women the right to vote 30 years later. But there was more to it than that.

You must dig deep into history to discover details about Alice’s life. Very little is known about her, which appears to be the way she and her boss wanted it. The Fall River Daily Evening News carried a feature story about her three months into the new job. “It is said that Miss Sanger knows more about the president’s affairs than any one except Private Secretary Halford … She is a jewel of secrecy, this young woman, and both the president and Mrs. Harrison trust her with every confidence.”

Not bad for a girl who was born in Connecticut and later moved to Indiana, where the Harrisons also lived. She graduated high school at age 15 and wanted to go to college. But that dream quickly died when her father became ill and lost his lucrative railroad job (along with the family’s bright fortunes). Alice was forced to attend what we would today call secretarial school, where she learned stenography and other office skills.

And she was a good stenographer too. So good, in fact, that she eventually went work for Benjamin Harrison’s law firm. And when Caroline Harrison grew overwhelmed by the mountain of letters sent to her, the first couple sent for Alice.

One of Alice’s important daily duties was preparing the first lady’s mail. A clerk dumped it on her desk first thing each morning. Alice sifted out correspondence from the cranks and crazies and then took the rest to the first lady’s room. Letters from close friends were given to Caroline Harrison for a personal reply.

Alice made notes of all others that required a response from Mrs. Harrison but not her personal attention. The Fall River Daily Evening News article put it this way: “the grand bulk of the letters — the begging variety — are taken up … For instance, a woman in Wisconsin, or Alabama, or Texas writes for a dollar to buy a rheumatism plaster, and in leading up to the request inadvertently relates her whole history and the laborious process by which she contracted the disease.” Alice then crafted a reply explaining, “Mrs. Harrison begs me to state that she is very sorry for your affliction, but there are so many calls on her charity that she is unable to …”

So many of those letters from Alice went out across the nation that the article noted, “[her] signature is probably known today better than any other woman’s in the United States.”

Harrison was defeated for reelection in 1892, and Alice’s glory days at the White House ended, fading into presidential obscurity. Which is a shame, because Alice Sanger truly was a pioneer. Consider this: The 1890 article I’ve quoted felt obliged to end with this line: “She is also a noble and cultured looking girl.” That article, by the way, ran in the newspaper’s “ladies section.” That was the environment Alice overcame to get her history-making position.

As the old Virginia Slims advertising slogan famously put it, “You’ve come a long way, baby.”

J. Mark Powell (@JMarkPowell) is a contributor to the Washington Examiner’s Beltway Confidential blog. He’s VP of communications at Ivory Tusk Consulting, a South Carolina-based agency. A former broadcast journalist and government communicator, his “Holy Cow! History” column is available at jmarkpowell.com.

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