The House His Father Built

in Featured Library & Foundation by Nixon Foundation — May 10, 2010 at 11:55 pm | 0 comments

On January 9, 1913, Richard Nixon was born in this little Yorba Linda Farmhouse. His father, Frank Nixon, built this house just a year earlier from a catalogue kit on 8.2 acres of our existing nine-acre museum site.

The Birthplace has been restored with attention to historical detail, on the exact spot where President Nixon’s father built it. Although security and sprinkler systems have been installed, no part of the house was rebuilt. Most of the furnishings, including the bed where the President was born and the piano he learned to play are original.

“As a young boy in Yorba Linda, I never thought of becoming President of the United States or even entering politics, my goal was to become a railroad engineer. Sometimes at night, I was awakened by the sound of a train whistle and I would dream of the faraway places I wanted to visit someday.”

“My father built this house himself. My father wasn’t trained as an architect but he taught himself to become a highly skilled mason and carpenter. He was particularly proud of the living room fireplace, and apparently others admired it as well because I am told that in addition to ours, he built the fireplaces of several of the neighboring houses.”

“The living room was the center of our life in this house. Before the days of television and radio, reading and conversation were our major indoor recreation. My first taste of politics came at the dinner table, which was in a corner of the living room. At dinner my father would engage us boys in lively conversations about the events of the day. I owe my early interests in debating to those dinners. Even though I was young, my father believed that no one was too young to have an opinion and to learn how to express himself.”

“My mother felt that I had some aptitude for music. And when I was seven years old I started to take music lessons from my uncle on this Crown piano. I also learned to play the violin, the clarinet, the saxophone and the accordion. I’ve often thought, that if there had been a good rap group around in those days, I might have chosen a career in music instead of politics.”

“After doing the dinner dishes, a chore that we boys all had to share, I would often read in front of the fireplace until bedtime. I have always enjoyed reading. My mother taught me at the age of six. I would read my schoolbooks of course, and my Quaker grandmother, Almira Milhous, always made sure to give me a book for Christmas and on my birthdays. But early on, I also took a great interest in newspapers and magazines. My favorite magazine was National Geographic. And I would spend hours seeing the world from our living room and daydreaming about visiting places faraway.”

“I was born on January 9, 1913, in my parent’s bedroom, which is located off the main living room. It was the coldest day of one of the coldest winters in California’s history. Our family doctor, who had driven out to Yorba Linda in a horse and buggy from Whittier twelve miles away, wrapped me in a blanket after delivering me and put me in a laundry basket to keep warm. Years later, he told me that his main recollection was that I had the strongest and loudest voice of any baby he had ever delivered.”

“My three brothers, Harold, Don, Arthur and I all slept in a small bedroom upstairs. It was crowded. We sometimes had arguments. But except for occasional pillow fights, we all got along famously.”

“The back rooms were my mother’s domain. You can see the room where she sewed for the family, and the pantry where she stored canned peaches, pears, string beans, peas, and corn – all of which came from our garden. But the most special room was the kitchen.”

“My mother was an excellent baker. Her specialty was angel food cake. She insisted that it was at its best only when she beat fresh outdoor air into the batter before putting it in the oven. I can see her now, standing outside the kitchen door in the chilly predawn air, beating the batter with a big wooden spoon.”

“My most unpleasant memory of those days was the time we had to drink goat’s milk because my mother had read in some magazine that it was supposed to be good for us. My brothers and I hated it. We used to pray something would happen to our goat. Our prayers were answered. One day, when my father was milking it, the goat kicked over the pail. That did it. He gave the goat to a neighbor and we never had to drink goat’s milk again.”

“For my brothers and me, life here in Yorba Linda would be considered hard today, but as I look back, it was a very happy time. We lived in this house until I was nine years old. When we moved to Whittier, a town founded by Quakers.”

“When he announced his candidacy for the Presidency in his hometown of Abilene Kansas, General Eisenhower said “We were poor, but the glory of it was, that we never knew it.” I think my brothers and I would say the same about our lives in Yorba Linda. I feel fortunate that we spent those years in this house which made up in love for what it lacked in size.” 

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