There will be other remarks about this great American on this floor today. but I doubt if any of my colleagues can relate their origins to Mr. Hoover quite as closely as it gives me pleasure to do. We were born just a short distance apart in eastern Iowa. His father was a blacksmith and my father. a Danish immigrant. dug tile ditch with a spade. President Hoovers father. whose shop was in West Branch. often shod my fathers horses. Today. as the transcontinental traveler approaches the little village of West Branch on the magnificent Interstate Highway 80. he is advised by road signs that here is the tiny dwelling in which Herbert Hoover was born.
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