The inventor, the celebrity and the royal highness couldn’t resist the draw of making a grand gesture to the love of their life
A Romantic (State) Dinner
President William McKinley’s wife, Ida, was once a high-spirited socialite, but the deaths of her two young daughters and epileptic seizures left her frail and withdrawn. As McKinley’s political career blossomed, “Ida spent most of her waking hours in a small Victorian rocking chair that she had had since childhood,” crocheting slippers and waiting for her husband to come home, according to the White House Historical Association.
But when McKinley took office in 1897, he didn’t hide Ida from view. Instead, defying the protocol of the day, he insisted that his wife be seated beside him at state dinners, so he could help if a seizure struck, or cover her face with a hankerchief to ward off an impending attack.
And when President McKinley was fatally shot in 1901, his thoughts were of fragile Ida, whispering to his secretary: “My wife—be careful…how you tell her.”
For six weeks, luna moth caterpillars gorge themselves on the leaves of the marula tree. Then, when they're ready, they instinctively weave giant cocoons around themselves in preparation for their stunning metamorphosis.