The attempted assassination of a former president might seem an odd cause for celebration, dear reader, but that is just the strain of bad-assery that Theodore Roosevelt lends to our anthology.

It was 102 years ago that Roosevelt made a campaign stop in Milwaukee on October 14, 1912. The presidential election was quickly approaching its climax, and T.R. was mounting the most spirited third-party challenge for the White House this nation's annals have long recorded. A former occupant of that most esteemed office from 1901-1909, Roosevelt sought the presidency once more. Disgusted with the policies of his Republican successor William H. Taft, Roosevelt had sought to wrest the party's nomination back. Failing in that endeavor, he girded himself for battle in the general election, where he vowed to take on both Taft and the Democratic nominee Woodrow Wilson in a battle to the end. Lest you think my language on this matter needlessly dramatized, I shall refer you to Roosevelt's direct words on the matter while accepting the mantle as nominee of his own Progressive "Bull Moose" Party: "We stand at Armageddon and we battle for the Lord."

Returning now to Milwaukee, dear reader, we come to the unfortunate attempt on Roosevelt's mortality earlier referenced. A deranged saloon-keeper, angered by Roosevelt's attempt at a third term, lodged a bullet in his chest. But rather than felling the former president, the projectile was halted short of T.R.'s vital innards by a 50-page copy of Roosevelt's speech in his jacket pocket. Realizing he was not coughing blood, Roosevelt correctly surmised that he was in no mortal danger, and delivered his speech as planned. As blood seeped into his shirt, he opened his 90-minute remarks thusly: "Ladies and gentlemen, 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."

Alas, Roosevelt was not re-elected in 1912. He split the Republican vote with Taft, allowing Wilson to take the prize. But of all the stories Roosevelt left behind -- tales of virility and manhood, of hunting and boxing, of war-time exploits, and peace-time conservation and common cause with the working chap -- it is this one that is perhaps my favorite. Imagine, sir or madam, a candidate for office in our present age withstanding an attempt on his or her person so gamely. And if you can, I declare your imagination to be as hairy and as finely developed as Roosevelt's own superb mustache. Bully!

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