15 Facts About Presidents That Sound Made Up But Aren't

John Tyler became the 10th president of the United States when William Henry Harrison passed after only 30 days in office - which is a tad poetic, given what Tyler would later become noteworthy for. No other president has ever produced more legitimate children than Tyler, who sired 15 in total. The last of them was Lyon Gardiner Tyler, born in 1853 when John was 63 years old.

Lyon Gardiner passed in 1935, but his son Lyon Gardiner Tyler Jr. lived until 2020, when his demise was met with incredulity - surely, it wasn’t possible that the 10th president’s grandchild had been around this long. What’s even more amazing, however, is that another grandson, Harrison Ruffin Tyler - ironically carrying the name of John’s short-lived predecessor - is still alive as of this writing.  

There was once a time, prior to their presidencies, that John Adams and Thomas Jefferson were the best of friends, touring Europe together without a care in the world. In fact, during a 1786 trip to William Shakespeare’s house in Stratford-upon-Avon, Adams and Jefferson were so carefree that they chipped off a chunk of Shakespeare’s chair to take home as a souvenir. 

At the time, Adams wrote:

Stratford upon Avon is interesting as it is the Scaene of the Birth, Death and Sepulture of Shakespear. Three Doors from the Inn, is the House where he was born, as small and mean, as you can conceive. They shew Us an old Wooden Chair in the Chimney Corner, where He sat. We cutt off a Chip according to the Custom.

One must note, however, that if it truly were custom for visitors to take large chunks of the chair with them, there wouldn’t be a chair left at all by the time Jefferson and Adams made their visit.

Though political differences would drive a wedge between the two pals, they would make up in their retirement years and become even greater friends. Adams’s last words were reportedly, “Thomas Jefferson still survives” - but he was wrong, as Jefferson had himself passed just a few hours earlier. The date? When else but July 4, 1826, the 50th anniversary of independence. 

Theodore Roosevelt first became president of the United States because William McKinley was assassinated while he was serving as vice president, and then he won a second term in the election of 1904, during which he promised not to run for a third term thereafter. He stuck to that promise through the 1908 election, but decided to run again in 1912, first losing the Republican primary to the incumbent William Taft and then running at the head of a brand-new party, the Progressive “Bull Moose” Party. It was on this campaign that Roosevelt would experience his greatest moment of infamy in a long and infamous life. 

On October 14, 1912, a saloon owner named John Schrank - who had become obsessed with Roosevelt after a nightmare convinced him Roosevelt was responsible for McKinley’s assassination - walked up to Roosevelt as he exited a Milwaukee hotel on route to a campaign event and fired a .38-caliber revolver right into his chest. 

The bullet found its target, but only after passing through Roosevelt’s glasses case and 50 pages worth of notes in his breast pocket, which slowed it considerably and likely saved Roosevelt’s life. Then, the former president coughed into his hands to check for blood, found none, and continued on to the Milwaukee Auditorium, where he delivered an 84-minute speech that began with the following lines:

Friends, I shall ask you to be as quiet as possible. I don't know whether you fully understand that I have just been shot; but it takes more than that to kill a Bull Moose. But fortunately I had my manuscript, so you see I was going to make a long speech, and there is a bullet - there is where the bullet went through - and it probably saved me from it going into my heart. The bullet is in me now, so that I cannot make a very long speech, but I will try my best.

The bullet stayed lodged in his ribs throughout the rest of his unsuccessful campaign, and until his passing in 1919.

George H.W. Bush’s pre-presidential career is well-known, but more attention is often paid to his role as CIA director than his time with the US Navy - even though the latter is arguably far more exciting. Not only did Bush make a personal choice to enlist after the events of Pearl Harbor, but he also went on to serve his country with distinction and, in one particular incident, a serious amount of bravery.

On September 2, 1944, Bush was piloting one of four bombers sent to attack the Japanese base on Chi Chi Jima. Right as the engagement began, Bush’s plane was hit by enemy fire, one of his crew members was killed, and his engine burst into flames, but Bush saw the mission through and dropped his entire payload, scoring several direct hits. Bush then flew several miles before he and the remaining crewmate bailed out into the ocean - though the other man’s parachute failed to open and he fell to his demise, leaving Bush as the only survivor.

John F. Kennedy dropped one of his most famous lines in 1963 when he declared “Ich bin ein Berliner,” but that wasn’t his first visit to Germany. A younger Kennedy also toured the country in 1937, 1939, and 1945, and what he had to say during those trips was significantly more controversial. 

In 1937, Kennedy wrote:

I have come to the conclusion that fascism is right for Germany and Italy. What are the evils of fascism compared to communism?
…
The towns are all charming which shows that the Nordic races appear to be definitely superior to their Latin counterparts. The Germans are really too good - that’s why people conspire against them - they do it to protect themselves.

Those words read as though they had been written by Adolf Hitler himself, who coincidentally was someone else who JFK was sure to heap praise upon. In 1945, after touring some of Hitler’s favorite locales, Kennedy opined that:

Anyone who has visited these places can imagine how in a few years, Hitler will emerge from the hate that now surrounds him and come to be regarded as one of the most significant figures ever to have lived. There was something mysterious about the way he lived and died which will outlive him and continue to flourish. He was made of the stuff of legends.

Many tales of Abraham Lincoln’s supposed physical prowess are apocryphal, including those that suggest he was Illinois wrestling champion at the age of 21 or that he wrestled 300 times and only lost once. What is true, however, is that Lincoln was a talented wrestler in his day, and he is enshrined in the National Wrestling Hall of Fame, albeit as an “Outstanding American.”

Standing at 6 feet 4 inches, however, Lincoln was still a physical specimen, and getting into the ring with him was probably not a wise choice for most. After he’d moved on to politics, a rival challenged Lincoln to a duel in 1842 and demanded Lincoln choose the time, place, and manner of weapon. Lincoln chose broadswords and specified “a plank ten feet long, and from nine to twelve inches abroad, to be firmly fixed on edge, on the ground, as the line between us, which neither is to pass his foot over upon forfeit of his life.”

His would-be opponent, the 5-foot-9-inch James Shields, actually accepted the terms, but their intermediaries negotiated a peace before any of Shields’s blood could be shed.