 The Cavalcade of America sponsored by DuPont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents Patrice Montsell, Jesse Royce Landis and Edwin Jerome in Song from Spokane. Before we begin our play, here's a word about a product that'll be brightening up many homes this spring. It's Speed Easy, the new DuPont wall finish that covers even dingy wallpaper with one coat. It is one of the DuPont better things for better living that is still available to the public. Speed Easy saves time, goes on so easily, dries in an hour, saves money, the average room costs less than three dollars, saves critical war materials too because it thins with water. If you're painting a room this year, save with DuPont Speed Easy. Ladies and gentlemen, may we for the moment draw your attention from the headlines to a simple yet significant point. America is still a land of opportunity and sudden wonder. Cinderella and Horatio Alger are still among us and in that point lies much of our strength. In the city of Spokane, Washington a few years ago lived a girl named Patrice Montsell. She was an average American girl in an average American community preparing eventually to lead an average adult life. But because she liked to sing, things began happening to this average life. Things began and continued happening till one night in New York the girl from Spokane stepped forth for her debut performance on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera House and Horatio Alger and Cinderella hovering in the wings smiled upon their protégé. Tonight's cavalcade play written by Halstead Wells is the story of that girl from Spokane, Patrice Montsell. DuPont presents Patrice Montsell, 18-year-old star of the Metropolitan Opera with Jesse Royce Landis as her mother and Edwin Jerome as her singing teacher William Herman in Song from Spokane on the cavalcade of America. Patrice Montsell had made her debut. Later that night as the great Golden Curtain at the Metropolitan fell, a new star took her place on the roster of the Metropolitan Opera Company. Patrice Montsell, 18-year-old coloratura from Spokane, Washington. It was the 4th of December 1943. Three hours later, when the applause had become a memory, Patrice Montsell sat in her hotel room writing a letter. 1943, dear Bobby. Well, Bobby, it's done. Done all right, I guess, from the way things sounded at the Metropolitan tonight. Are you flying tonight in California with your squadron? It's really December 5th here, but it's too early in the morning to be tomorrow, and anyway, I don't want tomorrow yet. I'm alone, and I've got to scribble my way near you. If my woods look kind of limp, it's because I feel like the taffy we used to pull at the high school parties back in Spokane. It's just four years ago now when we were freshmen, you 14 and me 15. Everybody was at the party whistling, but you hadn't come. You'd been playing football. Birds for Walt Disney. Oh, and not me. Whistling is OK, but it's what I call a limited sphere. Now, take me. I've been working up other things for extra power, like a loon crying over the water or under the water, or a man sawing wood while a train starts. What do you mean about whistling, Pat? Well, I like whistling all right. Oh, yeah, but you've got to have something else. Well, I like singing. Singing? Yeah, that's OK, too. Hello, everybody. Oh, hi, Bobby. Oh, hi, Bobby. How are you? This is Pat Munsell. Pat, I guess you know Bobby. Yes, I've noticed you playing football. I've noticed you, too. You have? Where? At school. 2,500 kids, and I've noticed you. Have you? Come on, everybody. The taffy's ready to pull. Get your partners and head to the kitchen. The taffy? Say, whose idea was this? My mother's. Don't you think she's kind of juvenile? Oh, OK. Oh, I know, kitty. Pat, have you got anybody to pull with? Aren't you maybe too tired from football? No, of course not. Come on, we'll pull together. Bobby, tonight at the Met, I could still hear you saying that. These four years, so many people have been pulling with me and for me. Most of all, of course, mother and daddy. I couldn't have done it without them. Without you, without everybody. Big things help and little things happen and help. Like my whistling teacher asking her brother to hear me sing in the Pirates of Penzance that freshman year. He liked me. And because he'd studied with a famous conductor and because the conductor was giving a concert at the University of Idaho, that's why he could give me an audition. And that's why daddy drove mother and me the 85 miles from Spokane to Moscow, Idaho. Well, the conductor heard me. And then he said, I must go to New York and study. He was wonderful. He seemed to feel so assure about me. We were so excited. Driving home that night, we stopped by the lake. How lovely the lake looks way below us. The lake's bigger at night, mother. The mountains are taller. Well, in the way we've been talking, it looks as if the best thing would be for you too to go to New York. Take eight weeks and try it. If it works out, then stay on. If it doesn't, Pat will still have time to get back for high school. I'd like to sing. Well? What do you say, daddy? New York. Mother, New York. How about you, Pat? Which way is east? You're looking east. East it is. Beyond the mountains is Montana. Beyond Montana Dakota, where I came from. Minnesota, where your mother came from. New York is beyond. Way beyond. You'll go beyond where we came from. That's right. That's the way it should be, isn't it, mother? Yes, dear. That summer in New York was something, Bobby. Gee, it was hot. And I wasn't getting anywhere. My teacher was good, but we just didn't work out together. At the end of a month, I was singing like a frog. Mother was worried. I was worried. We didn't know where to turn or who to ask. We decided to quit, packed our bags for Spokane. Then one of those little things that I was writing about happened. A woman we'd never seen came up and said she heard me practicing in the studio. She begged us to stay and try her singing coach, William Herman. So we met him. He suggested I work with him for 10 days and then decide, so I did. Mrs. Munsell and Patrice, the 10 days are up. What you have found out, I don't know. But I have found a voice that is flawless. There's nothing to be corrected, nothing to be overcome. Time and work will tell a grand story. I want you to stay. Two years, three years, four, as long as it takes. Mr. Herman, I think you've been wonderful for Pat. Oh, and I loved working with you. Singing is fun. Don't you think so, Mr. Herman? Yes, but there's another side and you should face it while there's still a chance to turn back. What do you mean? Well, Patrice, all performers, actors, dancers, musicians, circus people, when they begin to fulfill themselves, they begin in a way to defeat themselves. They become public servants and must often submit to a public will. Loneliness can grow with applause. For all the bright lights, a performer travels the dark way. And that isn't fun. I know. Patrice, I want you to stay, but I want you to be very sure you want to. Well? I don't know, Mr. Herman. I have a lot of friends in Spokane. That's where I live. Maybe I'll give that all up and I won't be good enough. It's a tough decision, but it's for you to make. I've only had one year of high school and school starts next week. Well, Pat, I'd like to sing, but I guess I'd rather be a sophomore. Gosh, Bobby, is there any place like Spokane, any country like Washington? Indian summer with you. I'll never forget that Thanksgiving game. Oh, what fun we had after it at Four Lakes, singing together and holding hands and watching the bonfire burn the night, home late and the house dark, whispering on the front porch. You kissed me and your arm going around hit the doorbell. Fun! See what I mean about the little things that happen? Is that you, Pat? Yes, Mother. How was the bonfire? Wonderful. Is Daddy asleep? Yes. Can I sit on your bed a minute? Of course, darling. Daddy and I have been talking about you. Another letter came today for Mr. Herman, urging you to go back to New York. Your singing teacher here says the same. The principal, too. He told me you could get credit here if you tutored there and Mr. Herman is a Phi Beta Kappa from Cornell. What do you think? Mother, I don't know what to say. I love home and my friends are here, my teachers and Bobby. Can't you and Daddy decide for me? It's your life, Pat. I wish they weren't going to ask me to sing. I just want to sit here by you. Yeah, me, too. I wish we were alone. I wish we were, too. Lewis and Clark, hi. Our farewell rally for our friend is just about over. Sitting here by a boy called Bobby is a girl called Pat. You've heard from Bobby, would you like to hear from Pat? I think she kind of hates to leave us, or at least leave Bobby. Shall I ask her to sing? Well, I guess we didn't get our wish, Pat. You better sing. All right, but this one's for you, Bobby. It's Mansell with Jesse Royce Landis as her mother and Edwin Jerome as her singing teacher in Song from Spokane. The story of the 18-year-old girl who is the metropolitan opera's newest star on the cavalcade of America sponsored by Dupont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry. As our story continues, Patrice Mansell has returned to New York to resume preparing for a career in opera. Hi, Patrice. Hi. Patrice, now that you're back to stay, I've laid out this, of course, is in addition to singing lessons and practice. Here it is. English and American literature, history. You'll have another teacher for French, another for Italian, another for musical theory, another for fencing and one for acting. It seems a lot. But you'll do it. I'll do it. Here is of it, Bobby. But there were other things. I'd go riding in Central Park and think it was the prairie, swim in the hotel pool and make it the Pacific, and write you every night to feel you near. Two years. And then a big thing happened. I sang on the Metropolitan Auditions of the Air. You can imagine how I must have felt when I heard the announcer. Ladies and gentlemen, these young people singing here tonight are singing to a nation at war. That we can sing at a time like this is a tribute to the power of our country and the power of music. For music fights, too. Across the continent, singers and symphonies are proving that freedom has music and freedom is music. Our next contest at this evening is Ms. Patrice Mansell of Spokane, Washington. Ms. Mansell sings Olucci di Questanima. I'd won with a contract for the Met. Then Mother and I started home for a summer of rest. Did the train seem good? Did the West seem good? With all of us together again. Bobby, it's 2 a.m. and I've got to stop writing. But what a perfect summer we had. Right up until the end. Even the parting was perfect. But parting can be perfect. When you started for Texas in the Air Corps and I started for New York. Do you remember the last Sunday at our house reading the funny papers on the floor? And just as Blackjack was about to spring the trap on her. Bobby, how long will you be in Texas? Crash! She threw the magic bottle and saved her life with a chemical compound. What will happen after Texas? Well, after Texas, I guess it's California, said Anna. And then? Wings, I hope. I wish my train went before yours did. No, I don't mean that. Do you want to read the funny papers anymore? No. Do you? No. I can hear your watch tick. Hands are brown. Pat. Yes? Let's say goodbye here. Instead of at the train with everybody around. All right. How do you say it? I don't know. I thought you'd start. Maybe it starts itself. What are you looking at? Picture of an airplane. Remember when you sang, I'll never smile again? You'll see you're smiling now. That's different. I know what he is, Pat. Look, you're already 18 and I'm 19. How much should we mean to each other? I mean, how close do you think we ought to be? Close as we are now. Not closer? Close as we grow. Yeah, I guess that's it. Kiss me. Now count one, two, three. We'll say goodbye together. Goodbye. You know, started to snow. Mother's asleep. I have your new picture by me. I'm glad I wrote you. I'm not alone now. Tomorrow can come. You're close. Closer than ever. Good night, Bobby. Love. Thank you, Patrice Montsell, Jesse Royce Landis, Edwin Jerome and Richard Widmark. Before we tell you about next Monday's Cavalcade, here is George Albee speaking for DuPont with this week's Story of Chemistry. Good evening. I've visited many plants of the DuPont company for a number of years now, collecting facts for these weekly stories of chemistry. This week, I learned how chemistry is aiding the farmer in his task of increasing the supply of poultry and eggs. Have you ever stopped to realize what's required to produce the dozen eggs you buy so casually at the store? What are the necessary ingredients? What are the things you have to have that have to be done before anybody can say a dozen grade A eggs, please? Well, first of all, there's the hen. The hen has to have a roof over her head and let her underfoot to keep her warm and dry. Believe it or not, hens catch cold very easily. Then there's the great amount of hard, painstaking work the farmer puts into caring for the henhouse, raking the floor, disinfecting walls and roofs, maintaining a supply of fresh, clean drinking water. Finally, there's feed. Our poultry industry is what it is today, largely because so much scientific research has gone into discovering how to feed chickens efficiently, included in the diet of hens or various grains, proteins, minerals and vitamins. And one of the most important of these is vitamin D, the sunshine vitamin. A chick must have the sunshine vitamin in order to grow sturdy and strong. A laying hen must have it for health and egg production. A source of vitamin D that's scientifically controlled and always uniform has been provided as a result of 10 years of research. It's a dramatic example of chemistry at work. For this development of chemistry captures the vitamin D effect of sunlight. Great banks of ultraviolet lamps supplying the same ultraviolet rays found in sunshine are used to irradiate the raw materials utilized by this discovery. These materials are found within the boundaries of the United States. They supply the necessary chemical substances which are converted into vitamin D. Trademarked delsteral, deactivated animal sterol, this vital ingredient of scientifically balanced poultry feeds is one of DuPont's better things for better living through chemistry. Next week DuPont presents Anne Southern and Joey Brown in GI Circuit, the spirited and sympathetic story of the thousands of little known and courageous entertainers who tour the battle fronts with their USO camp shows. Filled with humor and heartwarming appeal, the play is a tribute to the men and women who sacrifice their time and their comfort to the great job of bringing a little touch of home to the boys overseas. Cavalcade is pleased to remind its audience that Patrice Montsell is singing this season with a metropolitan opera company. Miss Landis is currently featured in the Broadway hit comedy Kiss and Tell. Tonight's DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra was under the direction of Donald Voorhees. This is Roland Winters sending best wishes from Cavalcade sponsor, the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, who invites you to join Cavalcade's audience again next Monday when Anne Southern and Joey Brown will be starred in GI Circuit. This is a story of the men and women of show business who are touring the world's battle areas on the USO Camp Show Circuit. Broadcasting coming up.