 Thank you, Marvin Miller, and good evening, everybody. Well, tonight we're going to ride with Marvin Miller and back through time and memory to another year. Well, tonight we're going to ride with Marvin. Yesterday. Tonight's destiny to another year is from 1900 to 1905. Goodbye, my baby love. Farewell, my baby love. To the world and darling love. 1900. The Bureau of the Rotten Shares, the bicycle, the cakewalk. William McKinley was President of the United States, and Teddy Roosevelt was Vice President. And the elaborate preparations were underway for the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo. George M. Cohan and the four Cohans were up in Lights on Broadway, and young George, who had been born on the 4th of July, wrote a song and told everyone on Broadway about it. Let's all the candy, I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy. I'm glad I am. I'm a real-life Yankee Doodle. Made my name in fame and bootle. Just like Mr. Doodle did by riding on a pony. Say, can you see? Everything about a Yankee that's a pony. I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy. A Yankee Doodle Do or die. A real-life Yankee or die Uncle Sam, because I was born on the 4th of July. A Yankee Doodle sweet in heart. A Yankee Doodle joy. A Yankee Doodle came to London just the right morning. I am a Yankee Doodle boy. A Yankee Doodle Dandy. A Yankee Doodle Do or die. Doodle joy. A Yankee Doodle came to London just the right morning. I am a Yankee Doodle boy. Early 1900s. Tell me, pretty maiden, are there any more at home like you? Tell me, pretty maiden, what is very simple for me to? A Florida sex pet with a darling Zizorgie. Yes, and only go crew so, is the king of the metropolitan opera. Oh, my God! Classic series. The Rover Boy. Or perhaps you remember your mother saying something like this. Now, father, you must speak to your son. He's developing into a regular time squanderer. He spent the whole day shot up in the dark looking at that, a new thing they call moving pictures. Starting out on their first great adventure, and motion pictures were just beginning. And if you had a piano and your parlor back in those days, it was one song that was certain to be on it. In the good old song. September, in the year 1901. It's a group of people facing a crowd that is surging through the doors of a building at the Pan-American Exposition. Take the hand of a man standing a few feet away from you. The president of the United States. Are you tired? Not at all. You can't shake hands with everyone at the expedition, you know. Perhaps not, but at least everyone will know that I tried to shake hands with him. It comes a line again. Mr. President, I can't tell you how proud I am to shake your hand. Thank you. I'm just as proud to shake yours, madam. Thank you. Well, I must say, he's perfectly lovely. Well, son, I see that your hand is banded. Are you injured in some way? Yes. Yes, I'm injured. Hold that man. Don't let him get away. Charles, Mark, help me with the president. Call a doctor. Someone call a doctor. Don't, don't let him hurt him. No. Excuse me. No. The man was President William McKinley. A man of gentleness and kindness. The entire world mourned his death on September 14, eight days later. To remember from the early 1900s, the world series came into being, and horse racing was beginning to interest the nation. The great operetta was playing at the Broadway Theater in New York. The Prince of Tilson, and a stirring song from that score will be remembered by everyone who saw it. Better than riches always, jolly. Those are the days of steam rescursions, of fictic parties riding through Central Park on tandem bicycles, of barbershop quartets, and the police cadets. Those are the days when the Vice President of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt, was an inaugurated president, following the death of William McKinley, and charged about Washington like a dynamo, making things come. The act has passed, Mr. President, just the way you wanted it. Congress has appropriated $40 million to purchase the property and rights from the French company. You can build your canal across the Isthmus of Panama. Long fight, Teddy Roosevelt saw the way clear for the accomplishment of one of the dreams of his life time, the Panama Canal. In 1901, a brilliant young composer named Dettelbert Nederman wrote a melody to the words of a poem by Frank Stanton. The result, one of the world's most beloved lullabies. He started painting the verses of the ruby out by Omar Kayam on cloth. On the more serious side, you were talking about President Roosevelt's great dream of the Panama Canal and Lieutenant Robert Perry's trip to the Arctic. And at home, everyone started singing a song by Eddie Leonard and never really stopped. Make a lot of money. Mr. Ubi's truth, nothing then could make me blue. Teddy Roosevelt's era, Mrs. Terry Nation's and Elehu Root. The largest tree in the world was discovered in the California Sierras and the famous St. Louis Exposition Open. It seems the long time ago doesn't it, for it's 50 years back into time and memory. Time brings many changes. Styles have changed. Tastes have changed. Even the way people speak has been changed since those days when George M. Cohen first looked across the footlight and sang about his country. But the spirit he sang about has changed. It's the spirit that flames brightest in times of challenge and perhaps flows brighter today than ever before. So on this eve of our Independence Day holiday, we find that same spirit still aflame in the warm words and stirring music of Mr. Irving Berlin written by Jean Holloway and brought to you each week at the time by the American Railroad. We hope you've enjoyed our experience on the summer show train and that you're having a happy weekend over this force. Yes, have a good time, folks, but for a moment, perhaps as you hear a band or a fierce sky rocket, remember that it is the Fourth of July, the first day of freedom. Freedom and liberty are more than words on the backs of coins. They stand for freedom to write and speak and assemble. Freedom has been one way. Freedom to live with dignity. Remember that men died to give us these freedoms. Keeping them is everybody's job. Part of that job is to do good citizenship. Keeping informed, folding, serving on juries and schoolboys, helping our own communities. Yes, freedom is everybody's job. In 1934 Southern Bloom was the country's number one song, and next week the summer show train is going to take you back to that year to relive some of its interesting happenings in here, many of its greatest songs. Songs like You and the Night and the Music. Anything goes at one night of love. So join us again next Monday, folks, and ride with us aboard the summer show train back through the year 1934. Well, looks as though we're ready to pull out. So until next week, goodbye. This is Marvin Miller. With a hearty invitation from the American Railroad. Join us again next week and ride the summer show train back to the year 1934. Thank you. In 1934 and now stay tuned to your Monday night of music on NBC.