The Curse of Tippecanoe, also known as Tecumseh’s Curse, is one of the most intriguing legends in American history. This supposed hex is said to have doomed U.S. presidents elected in years ending in zero, starting with William Henry Harrison in 1840 and continuing through John F. Kennedy in 1960. For over a century, this eerie pattern held true, with seven presidents dying in office during their terms. But then, something changed. The curse appeared to lose its grip, leaving historians, conspiracy theorists, and curious minds wondering: who broke the Curse of Tippecanoe? In this deep dive, we’ll explore the origins of the curse, its chilling track record, and the pivotal moment when it was seemingly shattered—along with the key figure credited with ending it.
The Origins of the Curse of Tippecanoe
A Clash at Tippecanoe: The Battle That Started It All
The story begins in 1811, long before the curse became a household name. William Henry Harrison, then governor of the Indiana Territory, led a military expedition against a growing Native American confederacy spearheaded by Shawnee leader Tecumseh and his brother Tenskwatawa, known as “The Prophet.” The confrontation took place near the Tippecanoe River in present-day Indiana, in a battle that would later bear its name: the Battle of Tippecanoe. Harrison’s forces emerged victorious, scattering the confederacy and weakening Native resistance in the region. But according to legend, this victory came at a steep price.
Tenskwatawa’s Alleged Curse
While Tecumseh was away rallying support, Tenskwatawa led the Native forces at Tippecanoe—and suffered a crushing defeat. Folklore claims that in the aftermath, a furious Tenskwatawa placed a curse on Harrison and all future “Great White Fathers” elected in years divisible by 20. The curse supposedly foretold that these presidents would die in office, a prophecy that wouldn’t manifest until Harrison himself became president decades later. Though no historical record confirms Tenskwatawa ever uttered such a curse, the pattern that followed gave the tale a haunting credibility.
The Curse in Action: A Deadly Pattern Emerges
William Henry Harrison (1840) – The First Victim
Fast forward to 1840. William Henry Harrison, now a celebrated war hero nicknamed “Old Tippecanoe,” won the presidency with the catchy slogan “Tippecanoe and Tyler Too.” His triumph was short-lived. On March 4, 1841, Harrison delivered a marathon inaugural address in freezing weather without a coat or hat. He fell ill shortly after and died of pneumonia just 31 days into his term—the shortest presidency in U.S. history. With his death, the Curse of Tippecanoe claimed its first victim, setting the stage for a chilling trend.
Abraham Lincoln (1860) – A Nation Mourns
Elected in 1860, Abraham Lincoln guided the United States through the Civil War, only to be assassinated in 1865, mere days after the conflict’s end. Shot by John Wilkes Booth at Ford’s Theatre, Lincoln’s death marked the second instance of the curse’s deadly grip. His assassination cemented his legacy as a martyr but also reinforced the eerie pattern tied to zero-year elections.
James A. Garfield (1880) – A Brief Tenure Cut Short
James A. Garfield took office in 1881 after winning the 1880 election. Just four months into his presidency, he was shot by Charles J. Guiteau, a disgruntled office-seeker. Garfield lingered for 80 days before succumbing to infection and poor medical care on September 19, 1881. The curse struck again, claiming its third victim with ruthless precision.
William McKinley (1900) – Assassination in Buffalo
William McKinley, elected in 1896 and re-elected in 1900, seemed poised for a successful second term. But on September 6, 1901, while attending the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New York, he was shot by anarchist Leon Czolgosz. McKinley died eight days later, making him the fourth president to fall to the curse—and the third to die by assassination.
Warren G. Harding (1920) – A Mysterious End
Warren G. Harding, elected in 1920, died suddenly in 1923 while on a cross-country tour in San Francisco. Officially attributed to a heart attack or stroke, his death was shrouded in speculation, with rumors of poisoning fueled by scandals plaguing his administration. Whether natural or nefarious, Harding’s demise kept the curse’s streak alive.
Franklin D. Roosevelt (1940) – A Wartime Loss
Franklin D. Roosevelt, elected in 1932, 1936, 1940, and 1944, led the nation through the Great Depression and World War II. His death in 1945, during his fourth term, came from a cerebral hemorrhage just as victory in Europe loomed. While elected in 1940, his passing fit the curse’s timeline, marking the sixth casualty.
John F. Kennedy (1960) – The Final Blow?
John F. Kennedy’s 1960 election ushered in an era of hope, but his assassination on November 22, 1963, in Dallas, Texas, stunned the world. Shot by Lee Harvey Oswald (or so the official story goes), JFK’s death was the seventh in the curse’s lineage. At this point, the pattern seemed unbreakable—until the next zero-year president took office.
The Turning Point: Who Broke the Curse?
Ronald Reagan (1980) – The Survivor
Enter Ronald Reagan, elected in 1980. On March 30, 1981, just 69 days into his presidency, Reagan faced a near-fatal assassination attempt. John Hinckley Jr. fired six shots outside the Washington Hilton, one striking Reagan in the chest, inches from his heart. Despite severe blood loss, Reagan survived, thanks to swift medical intervention and his own resilience at age 70. He went on to serve two full terms, leaving office in 1989 hale and hearty (at least physically). Historians and superstition enthusiasts alike point to Reagan as the man who broke the Curse of Tippecanoe. But why did he succeed where others failed?
A Matter of Modern Medicine
One theory credits advancements in medical technology. Unlike Garfield, whose death was exacerbated by infection, or McKinley, who might have survived with better care, Reagan benefited from 1980s surgical techniques and emergency response. His survival could be less about breaking a curse and more about beating the odds with science.
A Shift in Fate
Another perspective leans on the mystical. Some suggest Reagan’s charm, optimism, or sheer luck—or even divine intervention—disrupted the curse’s power. His recovery was nothing short of miraculous, with doctors noting the bullet’s proximity to vital organs. Did Reagan’s will to live outmatch Tenskwatawa’s alleged hex?
George W. Bush (2000) – Dodging Danger
The curse’s apparent end was tested again with George W. Bush, elected in 2000. Bush faced multiple threats, including a 2005 incident in Tbilisi, Georgia, where a grenade thrown at him failed to detonate. He also famously dodged shoes hurled by an Iraqi journalist in 2008. Bush completed two terms unscathed, further suggesting the curse had lost its potency post-Reagan.
Joe Biden (2020) – The Latest Evidence
Joe Biden, elected in 2020, took office at age 78—the oldest president in U.S. history. As of April 8, 2025, he has completed his term without incident, stepping down in January 2025. His uneventful survival (barring political turbulence) reinforces the notion that the curse is no longer active. Was it Reagan’s triumph that sealed its fate?
Analyzing the Curse: Coincidence or Conspiracy?
Statistical Anomaly or Supernatural Force?
Skeptics argue the Curse of Tippecanoe is a classic case of confirmation bias. Between 1840 and 1960, seven of ten presidents elected in zero-years died in office—a striking 70% mortality rate. Yet, the sample size is small, and presidential deaths outside the pattern (like Zachary Taylor in 1850) muddy the narrative. With Reagan, Bush, and Biden surviving, the curse’s consistency has crumbled, suggesting it may have been a historical fluke rather than a supernatural vendetta.
The Role of Assassination Attempts
Assassination attempts aren’t unique to zero-year presidents. Gerald Ford faced two in 1975, and attempts on others, like Theodore Roosevelt in 1912, didn’t align with the curse. Reagan’s survival wasn’t an anomaly in this broader context—modern security and medicine have simply made such events less lethal.
Why Ronald Reagan Stands Out
The Man Who Defied the Odds
Reagan’s survival isn’t just a footnote; it’s the cornerstone of the curse’s demise. His brush with death—and subsequent recovery—shifted public perception. Where previous presidents succumbed, Reagan emerged stronger, his humor intact (he famously quipped to his wife, “Honey, I forgot to duck”). This resilience may have symbolically broken the curse’s psychological hold.
A Legacy Beyond the Curse
Reagan’s two terms redefined the presidency, overshadowing the curse with policy wins and Cold War triumphs. By living to 93 and dying in 2004, long after his presidency, he distanced himself from the doomed fates of his predecessors, cementing his role as the curse-breaker.
The Curse Today: A Relic of the Past?
Modern Presidents and the Zero-Year Trend
With Bush and Biden surviving their terms, the Curse of Tippecanoe feels like a historical curiosity rather than a looming threat. The next test comes in 2040, but few expect the pattern to revive. Improved healthcare, security, and perhaps a fading belief in the curse itself have rendered it impotent.
Cultural Impact and Lingering Fascination
Despite its apparent end, the curse captivates imaginations. It’s a staple of trivia, a plot device in fiction, and a reminder of America’s turbulent past. Whether fact or folklore, it underscores the fragility of power and the allure of mystery.
Conclusion: Reagan’s Victory Over the Curse
So, who broke the Curse of Tippecanoe? The evidence points to Ronald Reagan. His survival in 1981 marked a turning point, halting a 140-year streak of presidential deaths. Whether by luck, medicine, or fate, Reagan defied the odds, paving the way for Bush and Biden to follow suit. The curse, once a grim specter over the White House, now lies dormant—its power, it seems, finally extinguished. Yet, as history teaches us, the past has a way of surprising us. Only time will tell if the legend truly rests in peace.
