DuPont presents the Cavalcade of America. A recent survey of the listeners to these programs in the Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont disclosed a number of interesting things. One of them was that of the several million people listening every Wednesday evening, about 81% are adults and about 19% children. In connection with the interest taken by boys and girls of school age, we recently received an interesting comment from the executive secretary of a state civic league. She said, As I go about the state meeting with various organizations, I continue to hear high praise of Cavalcade. One mother of several children told me she invited the neighborhood children to come in each week to hear Cavalcade, making quite a social event of it. She believes that listening to a program of such high caliber will help the children develop high standards of appreciation as radio listeners. It gratifies DuPont to know that the Cavalcade of America is considered one of radio's better programs. Certainly this result is closely related in spirit to the phrase used by DuPont chemists, better thing for better living through chemistry. The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra plays as an overture, Victor Herbert's famous Panamericana. The bunch l Ortis and the batter fell one sec below, plastic like a two stories of American resourcefulness. The first opens in 1849, the year of the great California Gold Rush. Thousands of Americans rushed to Panama and crossing the isthmus, embarked on west coast vessels for San Francisco. Our story begins in Panama on the muddy tropical waters of the River Chagras as a canoe carrying two Americans and man by native paddles west. Hey, no, come on. Faster, men! Faster! We gotta get to California while they steal some gold, Leopold. Oh, let the poor Indians set their own pace, Carr. Even after we reach Panama City, we'll have to wait for the boat to San Francisco on the 30th. Isn't that right? Well, Bristol, the way we're going now, we won't be there by the 30th. Faster! No point, no point. Say, Carr, what's that ahead of us, a raft? What? There's a white man on it. Looks like it. Out here in the middle of the jungle. Looks like he's fishing. Ahoy there, raft! Ahoy, yourself! Can you hold this thing off, please? Why, it's there, Daniels! We'll pull up alongside that raft. Hurry up, pull over there! Hurry up! Who are you? I'm John Jetson Ames, American citizen. Born for California's you probably are. Now, catch hold of that canoe, then, all right? A man go into the gold mines and he's stuck to fish. I'm no gold miner, sir. I must be nearly the only person going to California who isn't. I'm poking about with this hook because I've lost the most valuable part of my baggage overboard. Good heavens. What? I can see it just below the surface. Some kind of machine, isn't it? A gold mining machine? We'll salvage it, Mr. Frashears. It's a printing press, gentlemen. Printing? What in tar nation's name you bring in a printing press to a gold rush? Maybe knows a way to mint metal with it. Come on, Bristol, the sun's touched him. No, no, wait a minute. Look here, Mr. Ames. I think it's too bad you've lost your press, but you mustn't stay out here in this swampy water looking for it. You might get tropical fever. I can't go away and leave it, sir. I spent all my money buying it in New Orleans. The citizens of San Diego are waiting for me to come. This press will put out one of their first newspapers on the west coast. You mean if you get it off the bottom of the chagrin. Let's get on, Bristol. Mr. Ames, if you're a smart man, you'll get into this canoe with us and let us help you to Panama City. If you don't come now, chances are you'll miss out on all the good mining claims. Thank you, gentlemen. I won't forget your kindness, but I must stay with my press. Well, let's go then. Push it off, boys. Now pull away. Pull fast. Goodbye. Goodbye. Good luck. Goodbye. Goodbye. Now, let's get ahead with our work. Perhaps it is wiser you go, Senor Ames. We're not going to get this big machine out of the river. We'll get it all right. Hold my hand while I lower myself into the water here. Si, senor. There you are. Yeah. The water's certainly slimy. Well, I'll take a deep breath and go under. See if I can tug at it underwater. Si. He's strong as an ox, senor. He won't get it yet. Hey, he has it. Pull, muchachos. That's right. Bueno. Bueno. And not playa, senor. And not playa. A few weeks later in the coastal town of Panama City, Joseph Bristol and Len Carr again meet with John Judson Ames, whom they had left fishing for his printing press in the Chagres River. Well, John Judson Ames. That's right, senor. We meet again. You remember my name. By all that holy jang. What's the matter with you? Why, you don't look human. I lost weight out on that river. Now I've just finished walking over the mountain from Gargona. Over the mountain. Now look what I brought with me. What? Are all those little donkeys yours? One, two, ten of them. Look what's on their backs. My printing press. I had a terrible time fishing it out of that river. And then when I got it to Gargona, I found I had to take it apart to get it over the mountain. And you've got it on all those donkeys? Ha ha ha ha ha. What's the matter? Nothing. But Carr and I were worrying our heads off, wondering what had happened to you. And here you got into Panama City before we even caught a boat. I've got to get a ticket on that pecker tonight. Where's the steam ship over there? Why, down the street a ways. We'll take you. They've raised the rates on tickets again. $500 now to San Francisco. $500? Haven't you got that much, Ains? It took so much to pay off the natives and buy the burrows. They've got to let me go north for $300. There's not a chance they will. If I had the money, I'd loan it to you, Ains. I don't see how you're going to get anywhere on $300. I'll get to San Francisco. I've got to figure it out. Is there a newspaper here in Panama City? In this place? This is just a collection of mud hot things full of Americans waiting for the boat. Even a tent city needs a newspaper. Gives a community spirit. One issue of a newspaper might put this town on its feet. Yes, but you could... You, too, have got to help me. For pay, of course. For nothing, Ains. But you don't even know our name. I'm Joe Bristol and this is Len Carr. We'll do whatever we can, of course. Thanks, Bristol. Then you find a Spaniard that can write. Part of my paper will be in Spanish. Then you go up to every American in town that will talk to you and ask him for the news out of his letters from home. That'll give us news from all over America. For Pete's sake, tell him what it's for. Community enterprise. And Carr, you show me where your tent is. We'll start putting this press together. I want to get out of an issue by the next boat. John Ains, with the help of his newfound friends, set up his press in Panama City. A few days later, outside the tent office of the Panama City Herald, where a delighted crowd is gathered, most of them reading newspapers. Hey, here's an item from my hometown. Listen, Saginaw, Michigan. Bert Kellogg's prized cow, Bella, gave 30 quarts of milk the week of July 1st, believed to be a record for this part of the county. Congratulations, Bella. Where's the newspaper office? Right inside, friend. You better hurry, though. They're running off another edition, but it's going like hotcakes. I got to get a copy. You know, I kind of like this here editorial on Flaps the Mosquito. Hey, here's Mr. Ains himself. Hello, Mr. Ains. Fine weather. Well, I'm glad you like it, folks. Can I get through to the office? Sure thing. Right through here. Make room there for me, please. Thanks, thanks. Hello, Bristol. How'd it work? Ains, come on in. Guess how much cash we've taken in just since you stepped out. $50. You got enough for your passage now? Sure. Just a question of getting the press aboard. The ticket agent from the steamship line has been waiting to talk to you. This is Mr. Armana, a senior Ains. Senor Armana, welcome to the office of the Panama City Herald. Gracias, senor. I want to tell you how much I like your paper, and how proud I am to read the wonderful article about our ship that sails tomorrow. Senor Armana, how would you like several more free advertisements about your ship in the first issues of a new paper in San Diego? Oh, senor, that would be splendid. It would help your business, wouldn't it? Without doubt. Then, would you transport my printing press there, free of charge, in return for advertisements? Senor, because I hear something of your story, I admire you. You give me the advertisement, and the printing press may go north free. John Judson Ains got his press to California, and published one of the first newspapers in the southwest, the San Diego Herald. The Herald held its own for about ten years, but the southern coast cities of California had not grown as fast as Ains had hoped. And finally, he reluctantly moved his press to the gold camps. In 1851, in San Bernardino, in a small, rough shack, John Ains lies ill, and a friend, Edwin Sherman, sits by his bedside. Sherman, are you still here? Yes, I'm here, Ains. I... I hate to quit. Now, Ains, you haven't got the strength to put out a paper anymore. You've messed two issues now. Couldn't help it. Sherman, do you still want to buy my press? Why, sure I do, Ains. I don't know where I'm going to find a press if you won't sell. Well, I've got to ask you a few questions first. Get that Bible over there. Sure, sure. Here you are. Now, put your hand on it. Yes? First, are you for Abe Lincoln? You know I'm a Lincoln supporter, Ains. Now you are. Will you be oral at time, no matter what happens, no matter how many people run him down, will your newspaper favor him? Yes, Ains. I promise, if I die, if you break that promise, you can trust me, Ains. I've worked hard, Sherman. Not much success. I had a big newspaper in a little town. Towns didn't grow as fast as I thought, but they will. This West is a fine country. Yes, I know. That's why I want to take your press over into Nevada. Take it, Sherman. You can do more good now than I can. Thank you. Ains, I'd like you to listen to this dedication for my first edition. The press on which this newspaper is printed has braved the seas, the rivers, and the floods. It has set forth no disloyal sentiments. It has won the love of its friends and commanded the respect of its enemies. The New York Times The New York Times Ains died, but his press served many years more in the growing West, publishing such early Western papers as the Esmeralda Star, the Inyo Journal. When its usefulness was ended, it was preserved as an historical memento and rests in honorable retirement in the Museum of Americana at Dearborn, Michigan. As a reminder of the resourcefulness of John Judson Ains. The Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont moves on. Our modern episode this evening tells the story of the Coast Guard, an organization famous for its ability to meet all kinds of emergencies. Our story opens on an isolated island off the mid-Atlantic coast. The ice floes of a severe winter have tiled up around the island, handing it in from ships. At this moment, two small boys, sons of island fishermen, trudge with their sleds out across the ice toward the open ocean. We're getting out off of Fossum Shore, Dick. Ah, this ice is thick, Sammy. We can walk clear out and look down in the water. We'd better not. Look at that. That's the ice flow cracking. All right, scaredy cat, go back home. You're the biggest scaredy cat on Ridders Island. No, no I'm not. Watch me. I can pick up this sled and run and coast right now. Look. Oh, I can coast right now. Hooray! Let's run and see who can slide faster. All right. Come on. One for the money. Yeah. Two for the show. Three to get ready. And four to go. Ha ha ha. I won. I won. Let's do it again. Hey, we're getting near the end. Let's start back. Oh, the ice is making noises again. Look, Dick. There's water in back of a square between us and shore. Gee, you're right. A lot of water. We're floating out. Dick. Dick, we're floating out into the ocean. Ah! Two small boys float to sea. A few hours later, in the nearby Coast Guard headquarters. Coast Guard headquarters, coach speaking. Just a minute. It's for you, Lieutenant. Thanks, Jim. Lieutenant Gordon speaking. What is it? My Lord, what next? The whole Eastern seaboard is falling to pieces. How long has it been since he had any sleep? Three or four days. Vince Booth starts out on his lead every day for weeks. Yes, I know, but... There's always something happening. Well, if he's going to wait for things to stop happening around this station, he'll do without a lead the rest of his life. He needs it, though. Yeah, I know. Yes, we might be able to land a plane at Ridders. We've only got about 40 minutes of daylight left. All right, we'll do what we can. Yeah, yeah, that's a promise. Goodbye. Chief, we can't land a plane at Ridders. That place is bad news in Goodwether. Well, this man swears there's a patch of open water until he's cold, close to shore. Get me a chart that shows Ridders, will you? Sure. What do they want a plane for, anyway? Oh, a couple of kids got caught in an ice floe. The fishing boat picked them up, but... instead of bringing them to the mainland, carted them back across the ice to the island. No doctor can get there in a hurry, and they've got to have medical help. Here's your chart. Thanks, Jim. How did the word come to shore? Amateur radio, and then relayed around by telephone. Yeah. Yeah, by the time a cutter could get there and cross the ice and carry them out again, it might be too late. It's 4.30 now. It'll be dark by 5. I know it. You better go out and warm up number three. You really going to try it, Chief? Naturally. Now, don't get me wrong. I'll go out there and try to land in a bathtub if I have to. But that water around Ridders is full of floating logs and chunks of ice. This is my trip, Jim. I once hung around that island for a month, waiting to spot some smugglers out of Havana. Your trip, huh? Can't I come along? Co-pilot and radio man, if you want. Strictly a volunteer job. Okay, I'm volunteering. Say, aren't you supposed to start south on leave as soon as you go off duty tonight? Sure. Let's go. If we get back in time, I can catch a 10 o'clock train. Okay. When Lieutenant Gordon and Jim Coates started for Ridders Island, they knew that a dangerous landing lay ahead of them. They found the island by lights in the windows of a few houses, and guided by them and a bonfire built by the natives on shore, they brought their plane down on a tortuous inlet. Some time later, inside the plane, just before the takeoff... Jim, are those kids stuck in safely? Yeah, they're tied to the floor. One of them's thrashing around a good bit. The other one's too sick to notice. Ah, poor little savers. All right, we're all set then, Jim. Hey, I gave out four flashlights to fish with them off the end of the channel. I can only see three. I see the fourth. Go ahead to the light. Oh, yeah, yeah, I see it. All right. Everybody out there, keep clear ahead. Well, she revs up, okay, Jim? Goodbye! Goodbye! Goodbye! Well, Jim, keep your fingers crossed. Oh, we'll be all right if we don't pile up on a ship for a hunk of ice. Now, where is it? Well, we missed that story by about four inches. Yeah, I know. That felt good when I squeezed into that pond, but I feel a lot better about getting out of it. I want to get out! Let me out! What's the matter, son? I want to get out! Jim, you take the controls. I'll go back there. Got the ship? Okay. I want to get out! I want to get out! Hey, hey, what's the matter? Scared of the plane, youngster? No, but I'm scared of the plane. I'm scared of the plane. I'm scared of the plane. I'm scared of the plane. No, but Sammy won't talk to me. Sammy. Now listen, Dick. Sammy's pretty sick, see? Got a choking in his throat like you have, and he aches all over. Let him sleep, will you, son? All right, but take off these darn straps! Now listen here, Dick. You've got to do something for me. I flew all the way out here to get you, and it was hard to get down and hard to get up. It was so hard, I was pretty scared to try it. You were scared? Yes, I was. Now will you do something for me? Try to go to sleep? Headquarters is coming in, Chief. All right, you take it. Gordon and Coates in plane three answering. Plane three answering. Oh, Jim. Tell headquarters we made ridders and we're rushing the kids to the hospital. The plane rushes through the darkness and makes an easy landing at the naval base. A short time later, in the hospital, as Lieutenant Gordon waits in the corridor. Lieutenant Gordon? Oh, yes, Doctor. I've been out making calls to my headquarters, but I wanted to know how the boys were doing before I left. Well, the little one, Sammy, is still a pretty sick boy, but he'll pull through. Good. You're no connection of their families, are you? Well, no. You see, I only picked them up when a call came into the Coast Guard headquarters. Doctor, could you come here for a moment? Yes, what is it, Miss Redmond? Well, one of these boys is a handful. For the last hour, he's been demanding to see the pilot who flew in here. Well, Lieutenant Gordon's right here. Lieutenant, if you have time. Oh, certainly, certainly. I want to see the kids. That's what I came back for. You'll come right in. Thank you. Ah, I want to see. Say, say, you crying again, Dick? No, I'm not. I thought you'd gone away. Well, I haven't. Nothing like that. I'll leave you with them, Lieutenant. All right, thanks. Sammy's lots better. Yeah. Yeah, I feel fine. That's great, Sammy. They gave us something that made us all hot inside. Well, didn't I tell you I'd like this place? You'll have chicken and ice cream, and you'll be good and warm all the time. Sammy keeps crying because he can't see his mother. Oh, you keep crying for yours, too. Now, listen, both of you. That's just the way not to get wealthy. Now, as soon as the ice blows her out, your mothers will be over here right away. But what about tonight? Yeah. I never was away from home before at night. Well, all right. If you two fellows will be good and do what the nurse tells you, maybe I can remember a couple of stories. Oh, gee, I bet you know a lot of stories, Lieutenant, about airplanes and going out there sinking ships and chasing smugglers. Do you know anything about big ships? I'm going to be a ship captain. You are, huh? Yeah. Well, now let's see. Mr. Gordon. Oh, yes, nurse. Mr. Coates is calling on the telephone. He says to tell you he called headquarters, and that he needs to take the plane back, and you're to start on your leave tonight. He says to come out of the airport right away. You just have time to get a train south. Well, will you tell him, nurse, that I'll see him back at the station tomorrow or the day after? You're not leaving. Not tonight. Oh, gee, that's nice. Tell him. Tell him I've got a job here I haven't quite finished. In small matters, as in great, the Coast Guard meets constant danger, a life that is a series of emergencies. Required to stand ready for 100 varied tasks day and night, the Coast Guard, one of the most resourceful organizations in the world, has won a foremost place in the cavalcade of America. American resourcefulness, the ability to find an answer to the toughest problem, has always been an outstanding national trait. The spirit exists on land and sea, on farms, in cities, and in chemical laboratories. The resourceful modern chemist produces curious and remarkable things. Who'd ever believe, for instance, that men could make sponges from cotton or from trees? Wooden sponges. Well, they can. Both cotton and wood are composed largely of a substance called cellulose. Chemists turn cellulose into something that looks like a sponge, acts like a sponge, in fact, is a sponge. Put it on the sea bottom, and you almost could fool the fishes with it. This new cellulose sponge, only recently placed on the market by DuPont, is very tough and durable, yet remarkably soft and pliable when wet. It absorbs many times its weight of water and is not affected by ordinary cleaning chemicals. This is only one of the many ways that chemists use nature's raw materials in making articles that serve our needs. Sometimes chemical research gives us products entirely different from anything found in nature. For example, chemists found how to take cellulose from spruce trees and make a material as clear and transparent as glass, the sparkling wrapping used for so many things today. It is called cellulose film. DuPont sells it under the trademark cellophane. Another member of this same family is celloseal, the attractive caps and bands made by DuPont and used to seal bottles for protection against dirt or germs or counterfeiting. Even rayon, that luxurious yarn used in making so many lovely fabrics, is created from spruce tree cellulose by an amazing chemical process. These examples of the work of DuPont chemists are only a few out of many, but they serve to illustrate what is meant by the DuPont phrase, better things for better living through chemistry. Song of home, several interesting stories of American songs we all love will be heard next week at the same time when DuPont again presents the cavalcade of America. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. W-A-B-Z, New York.
