FREDDY

NANCY MCFEELY ROGERS had come back to her parents' house in Latrobe, Pennsylvania, forty miles southeast of Pittsburgh, when Fred Rogers was born. She wanted to be sure that she had as much help and support as possible for what might be a hard delivery. Nancy's first baby was coming two and a half years after her marriage to James Hillis Rogers, a handsome, dark-haired young man who had finished his engineering studies at Pennsylvania State University and the University of Pittsburgh. Rogers and his young bride, also dark-haired and attractive, made a striking couple in this small but growing industrial city in western Pennsylvania in the mid-1920s.

Fred McFeely Rogers was born on March 20, 1928, in Latrobe in the McFeely House, a handsome, old brick home at 705 Main Street. Her doctor had warned Nancy Rogers that the baby's birth could be hard for such a small woman. The labor was a long and arduous ordeal. During much of it, Ronnie, the family's Pomeranian dog, was huddled under the birth bed, adding its voice to that of young Nancy as she struggled. By the time Nancy's son, named after his maternal grandfather Fred McFeely, was born, she was exhausted. The family doctor advised her not to think about having another child, which might be not only difficult, but devastating — even fatal. It was advice that Nancy and Jim would follow.

Born in the home of his maternal grandparents, Fred and Nancy Kennedy McFeely, young Fred was to become their great favorite. Nancy Rogers was immediately protective of her new baby, smothering him with maternal love and guarding him against the outside world. In one of the photographs from that time, she is seen hugging the young boy close to her, one arm wrapped around his frame and the other protectively holding his arm. She is slight, with an angular beauty; he is a bit chubby, with a quizzical look on his face.

Sixty-five years later, Fred Rogers would say in a television interview: "Nothing can replace the influence of unconditional love in the life of a child ... Children love to belong, they long to belong."

More than anyone else in Fred's life, his mother gave him that unconditional love. Certainly, her over-protective mothering contributed to the little boy's shy and withdrawn nature; but what is even more clear is that her absolute love and devotion, along with her extraordinary generosity and kindness, contributed essential ingredients to Fred Rogers' developing character and gave him the resilience to overcome a shy, sometimes sickly (with severe asthma), and sheltered childhood. His mother was renowned throughout the family and the city of Latrobe for her giving nature and her boundless kindness. Her son took his character from this loving woman.

Nancy Rogers came from a wealthy Pittsburgh family that moved to Latrobe, an industrial city bisected by the Main Line of the Pennsylvania Railroad. Her father Fred B. McFeely built the family business, McFeely Brick, makers of silica and fire clay bricks for furnaces, into an important Latrobe manufacturing firm. Westmoreland County had abundant coal and other natural resources; and the proximity to Pittsburgh, a major river-shipping center, gave the city additional commercial advantages.

Nancy McFeely Rogers spent the rest of her life giving to the people of Latrobe. During World War I, the fourteen-year old girl knitted sweaters for American soldiers from western Pennsylvania who were fighting in Europe (knitting was one of the great passions of her life; she continued knitting sweaters for family and friends — including a new cardigan each year for Fred — for over six decades).

The next year Nancy lied about her age to get a driver's license, so she could help local hospitals and doctors' offices during the terrible flu epidemic of 1918. Her father Fred McFeely needed to sign off on paperwork to allow her to drive. To discourage her, he informed her that first she'd have to learn to re-build an engine in case the truck broke down on the road. With the help of local mechanics, the determined young woman learned quickly, and was soon on the road. Though she spent months hauling away used bandages and other medical waste, she managed to escape falling victim to the flu herself.

By the time her first child was born, she was regularly volunteering at the Latrobe Hospital, and Fred was often left with a caretaker while Nancy pursued her work. She'd once dreamed of becoming a doctor, but that was an impractical ambition for a young woman in western Pennsylvania in that era. She contented herself with a lifetime of volunteer work at the hospital.

A longtime friend of Nancy Rogers, Latrobe Area Hospital nurse Pat Smith, later recalled, "She would come into the nursery and just work. If a baby were crying, she wouldn't hesitate to assist with the feedings or tenderly rock them in her arms in the nursery rocking chairs. She wouldn't leave until she was certain that all was secure, and that included making sure the staff had time for dinner, usually at her expense."

The Rogers' home, a huge, three-story, brick mansion at 737 Weldon Street, was in the affluent area of Latrobe known as "The Hill." Fred Rogers grew up with a cook to make his meals, and a chauffeur to drive him to school. He was a cherished only child until his sister Nancy Elaine Rogers Crozier, called Laney, was adopted by Nancy and Jim Rogers when Fred was eleven. Given the age gap between them, she recalled in an interview that she always saw him as "a very grown-up playmate."

Years later, Fred Rogers told Francis Chapman of the Canadian Broadcasting Company that "his parents adopted his sister, Laney [Elaine], as a present for him. ... I don't know whether Fred had requested a sibling or not, but Fred thought that his parents thought that it would be nice for him to have one."

Given his family's wealth and stature in the community, Fred Rogers' formative years were spent in an environment in which his family had an extraordinary influence over his friends and neighbors, and almost everyone in Latrobe. By the time Fred Rogers was born, the city's population had shrunk by over a quarter to under 9,000. But Latrobe is still recognizable today as the very attractive cityscape of brick and stone houses and commercial buildings that Fred captured in his Mister...