 The Cavalcade of America. No history of a nation would be complete without a record of the growth of its industries, the shops and factories and laboratories that lend wings to the progress of a people. Such an enterprise is DuPont, one of America's earliest. As you listen on Wednesday evenings at this time to the Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont, we hope that you will give a thought to the pioneers of American industry, as well as to the pioneers in all other fields of endeavor. And the spirit of progress so clearly shown in these stories is the thing that inspires DuPont Chemists to fulfill their pledge, better things for better living, through chemistry. At the very end of this program, we have a special announcement for school teachers, which may help them in their work. This evening's first story begins in the early 18th century in Colonial America. Our Cavalcade Orchestra plays an English dance, which is characteristic of that day. The country dance from the Nell Gwynn Suite by Edward Germs. Direct lineal descendants of the great builders of the world, the Pyramids of Egypt, the public baths of Rome, the Gothic cathedral, and now the soaring steel towers of the modern skyscraper. In 1724, the guild of Master Craftsman, known as the Carpenters Company, was formed. Then, five years later, important business comes before the legislature of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. A special commission for building a state house to accommodate our Pennsylvania legislature. Mr. Hamilton, have you anything to report? Yes, Mr. Speaker, in accordance with the petition of the people of Philadelphia and the resolution of this body, I have prepared designs and plans for a building to house the legislature. Are you ready to submit it to the assembly for consideration? I am, together with an amendment to the bill now pending for appropriation of money necessary to carry out the construction. What will his excellent list see permit us? Only 2,000 pounds. Well, at least we can begin on that. Just as soon as the bill is enacted into law. I move the commission be appointed trustees for building the state house according to the approved design. Why are we not allowed to see the plans before approval? I second the motion, sir. The commission recommends both. Order! In May 10th, 1729, the law was enacted, authorizing the construction of that group of stately buildings in Philadelphia, later known as Independence Hall. Edmund Woolley, master carpenter and his skilled assistants, joiners, mason, plasterers and blazers, toiled skillfully and cleverly to bring Andrew Hamilton's designs to perfect realization. Soon until seven years later is the new state house far enough advanced to begin playing its celebrated part in the history of our nation. Autumn, 1736. Mr. Woolley, sir. Yes, Tyson. Is it finished? No, sir. There's one more nail. Drive it home. I thought it'd be more fitting, sir, for you to be the one to do that. Why does he think that? When this nail is home, the new state house will be ready for the legislature. After so many years, the honor should be yours. Mr. Tyson, sheer vanity. But give me thy hammer. There you are, sir. It is done. Completed at last. Only the main building, but the wings and the tower, it needs a good tower and a bell. I think it's wonderful just as it stands, master Woolley. Surely there's nothing so fine in this part of the world. Nothing finer was being built when last I saw London. To be master carpenter of this fine state house must make you very proud, sir. Proud? T-t-t-Tyson. Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall. Sir, I meant no offense. Oh, I take no offense. Now I'm a good workman, and I thank thee for standing with me all these years. Six years, sir. Hi. So it has been. So now I may join the carpenter's company. Well, thee knows well only a master carpenter is eligible for membership in our guild. I've been a carpenter six years. I am eligible. Why, so thee is. Well, time is a hasty wanton. And now I'm eligible for one thing more. Is that really? What now? For the hand of Miss Pudence. Why, my daughter's only a child. Besides, I've set my heart shield wed with only a master craftsman. But sir, now I can be a master. And thee owns no land here. And thee is not one of the society of friends. I'm afraid not, sir. But I own land in England. I like thee well, T-t-t-son. But I could not consent to see Pudence go back to England or marry out of meeting. But surely, sir, unless there is someone else there. But it would seem there is. Yonder she comes now with young Coleman. Hmm, Bob Coleman. Why, he's an iron worker. But a master craftsman and one of our friends meeting. Good morrow, father. How does he today? Pudence child, I do not think it's seemly for thee to be here. Soon there'll be a great crowd of people coming to watch the first sitting of the legislature here. The first assembly in thy building. And thee expects me to stay away? Oh, five, father. I hope I have more duty to thee than not see so good a sight. Such prudence. I fear the duty is to thine own curiosity. How does thee, Robert? Oh, well, I thank thee. That's thee knows, T-t-son. Oh, we've met before. You're a servant, sir. Just in time, Robert. Here come a lot of people. Well, how bright they look, all silks and sands. T-t-tut, prudence. Well, well, well, well, Mr. Woolley, sir. I see you are ready for us in time. Yes, friend Hamilton. I hope the legislature prosperous well in its new feeny place. I hope our laws are as good as our design. Well, our work is honest in our material sound. You thought to grace this fab province many years. Look here, Benjamin. Yes. Look at these hinges on the doors. They are uncommon, handsome, are they not? They are more, Mr. Hamilton. They are uncommon strong. This Pennsylvania iron will make more than hinges. I do not follow you, Benjamin. We may not live to see it, but someday buildings will be made of iron. And wood and brick will only be the ornament of them. Benjamin, you think too much. Come along in. The members are taking their place. Who were those men, friend Tyson? Mr. Andrew Hamilton, speaker of the assembly. Were designs father and thee made into this fine building? Yes. And who was that man who talked of iron? He said him praise my work. He trades in words. He is a printer. He is a clerk of the assembly. A Bostonian called Benjamin Franklin. I would like to talk with you. I would be rather talk with me. Come children, let's go in. This is an important occasion. There will be many words spoken today. Will be said by me, Prudence. No, by me if you would see better. We converters have first place here today. I'll sit between the both, behind my father. The assembly of the province of Pennsylvania will please come to order. The east and west wings of the state house are finished. And the tower with its courtly staircase is topped by a fine bell free. Isaac Norris, speaker of the assembly, ordered a bell of 2,000 pounds to be cast in England. But when it was first rung it cracked. Norris then ordered the metal improved and recast by pass and stower Philadelphia. In June 1753, the new bell is hoisted into place. And a great crowd has gathered in front of the state house to hear whether a good bell can be cast in the colony. Bell is almost secure in place now. They say it weighs a ton. Is it true that this is the first great bell to be cast in the colony? Yes, pass and stower the first to try it. Come Prudence, this way dear. But it takes me further away from the tower. We can hear the bell better at a little distance. I hope father can hear it. Oh, I'm sure he can. I remember years ago he said there'd be a tower and a bell someday. Oh, it makes him happy to know the state house is finished at last. Yes, it would have made him happier if you had married Coleman instead of me. Hey John, he sees now the own land here and comes to our meeting. Well, as I, I am making friend Coleman says, our colony is truly a melting pot. Those are strange words friend Norris had cast on the bell. What were they? Proclaim liberty throughout all the land until all the inhabitants thereof. It's from the Bible, Leviticus 2510. Isaac Norris is a very pious man. Perhaps he thinks he's a prophet. Oh, they're making signals from the bell free. The bell must be in place. We have a good view from here. Look. Now 23 years later, on July 8th, 1776, the American colonies determined to maintain their right to self-government, declaring they are and of a right ought to be free and independent. Thus, one of America's first achievements in architecture and building stands today as the Shrine of American Independence. Americans are the greatest builders of modern time. The first use of steel frame construction is lost in argument of the past. We know the Tacoma building in Chicago was one of the first. Another was the home insurance building in Chicago, finished in 1885. It was 10 stories high at first. Then they added two more just to prove the soundness of the architect's calculation. But the most famous among the first tall buildings still stands on a triangular corner where Fifth Avenue, Broadway, and 23rd Street meet in what was once the Crossroads of America. There, in 1902, we find young Tommy Coleman. Yes, a hell of a time. I'll take both. Oh, thank you, sir. You're just like Mr. Muncie. He always takes both. Muncie, a customer of yours? Yes, sir. His office is in this building. Windiest corner in New York. Well, it is windy here, all right. You bet it is. Everybody complains about it. Yes, I know. Why don't you take a more sheltered beat? Oh, I like it. I'd rather be right here than anywhere else in the world. Everybody goes by here. This place is famous. Oh, you think so? Think so. Say, mister, don't you know where you are? This is the Flatiron building. I thought it was called the Fuller building. Nobody around here calls it that anymore because it looks like a tall Flatiron. 20 stories high. A regular starsquake, right? Why, yes, I guess it almost is. Almost? Say, mister, you ought to see the clouds rushing by it on a stormy day. Then you'd know. You seem to like this crazy building. I do. I saw it to us. I saw papers to all the fellas that worked on it. Someday, when I grow bigger, I'm going to build one myself. Oh, you want to be an architect? What, me? Sticking doors over a desk? No, sir, not me. I'm going to be a steel worker. If the steel gangs can build things like this. By George, you're right. What's your name, son? Tommy Coleman. Do your people live near here? My folks used to live in Philadelphia. I mean, they don't live anywhere now. They're, they're... I see. Well, we're from the same state. I'm from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, myself. Oh, Pennsylvania died. That's right. But the big cities are the only ones that have skyscrapers. Yes, and we're planning lots of others. Gee, I wish I could get a job working near one of them. I'd like to see them go up. Well, maybe you can. Here's my card. Come see me at my office. I might help you get a job. Well, thanks. You bet I will, Mr. Dingleburg. That's right. Oh, you're an architect. Yes. You know much about skyscrapers? Not much yet, son. I've only worked on one tall one. Well, sir, there's only the... Say, did you, did you build a flat iron building? Well, I used to think so, but maybe now I'd better say I just planned it. But you thought of it and figured it all out. Don't forget to look me up, Tommy. Thanks, Mr. Dingleburg. I won't forget. See, it's a fight. And he built this. Trapper boy. Oh, yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Excuse me, sir, forget your paper right here on the windiest corner. As the years went on, young Tommy Coleman became a steel worker, caught hot rivets in a bucket high above the sidewalks of New York. Until finally in 1930, we find him talking with his wife. Oh, Tom, I've made you late. And you are gangbore. Well, that's all right, dear. My gang will be on the job all right. Now, you go on home and take it easy. But my job? Well, you telephone them. You can't come back. But I can't quit my job. Well, you've got to quit it, dear. The doctor said you couldn't work another day. Now, no more talk. I'm late, darling. You will go home, won't you? Yes, Tom. If you'll feel better about it. Oh, I will feel better. The doctor says you're sick, Mary. You've got to take it easy. I hate to scare you, dear, but I don't know how I'd get along without you. Is it as bad as that? Yeah. Gosh, how that building does grow. More than a story every day. What are they going to call it? The Empire State. It'll be tall as any other, won't it? Oh, it'll be much taller. It'll be the tallest building in the world. And I'm helping to build it. But here's the hoist, dear. I've got to go up with the next load. Good luck, Tom. It'll be OK if you do just as I tell you, darling. Go on home and take it easy. I will. Have we got to go all the way down to the 46th floor for a cup of hot coffee? No, they've got a cafeteria now and a 64th. But we only put that up the day before yesterday. Keep your eye on it, buddy. Maybe Al Smith will have an office there by Monday. Remember when we ate in the first-yacht cafeteria, the boss called it, way back on the 3rd? Yeah, and how we thought we was getting somewhere when we got hot coffee and on the 21st? Yeah. And now look at the blame thing. And we ain't done yet. Say, boys, the steel's coming in from all over the place. From four mills. Say, this new lot is from Pennsylvania. And that's where you come from, boss? Yeah. My folks have been making iron and steel there a long time. They sure ship it in fast. Right on time to the minute. Well, they better. We're going to make our schedule. All you think of is driving your gang. Ain't we the best gang in New York? Yeah. How about the Eagle Gang? Well, maybe next to the Eagle Gang. Hey, what's got you so set on finishing up this job so quick anyway? We're doing one whole floor a day now. We've got to have this building finished ahead of renting season. Oh, renting season. Is that all it's been worrying you about? No, not exactly. As a bonus. Yeah, I guess we could all use that. I got a use for it, all right. Well, nothing to be gloomy about. Hey, you used to be a cheerful guy. You ain't cracked a smile since the day you was late. Hey, funny you being late. Lord knows you're tough enough on the rest of us. Hey, you better eat more and talk less if you want to get filled up before that whistle. Hot coffee goes pretty good now. Think we'll be finished before cold weather? Yeah, almost to the top now. We can't finish any too soon for me. Not me. I need a vacation. Where are you going, boss? I'm not going anywhere. My wife. Yeah? Where are you sending her? Up to medical center. Oh, the medical center. I worked on that job. Good job. Lots of steel. But it's a heck of a place for a vacation. Shut up, you. Can't you see it ain't no picnic? Yeah, that's right, boys. It's an operation. She's got to have it or she'll die. Hey, that's tough. I didn't know. Yes, of course. A lot of dough, eh? You said it, Tony. Plenty. That's why I want to beat the record and get part of that bonus. Well, you can count on us, boss. Every gang of us. Oh, thanks, boys. All right. Come on, boys. Let's go. Up they went. One story a day. Until near the top, they reached the speed of 14 stories in 10 days with the stone workers and bricklayers only a short distance below them. 3,400 men at work above half a city block. The top rivet nearly a quarter of a mile above the sidewalk. 60,000 tons of steel put in place in only six months. 102 stories high, a record for all time. The rivet gangs and their bosses deserve their reward for work well done. But for Tom Coleman, it means an anxious vigil at the New York Medical Center. Nurse. Yes. Will it be much longer? Oh, it hasn't been long. Seems long to me. I think they're bringing her off now. Oh. Well, Doctor. Doctor. Oh, you mustn't go in. Oh, but I gotta go in. Wait here, please. It might... Well, it might be fatal. All right. I'll wait. They're going to take her back to her room. Can I see her? She goes by? Yes, but stand back, please. They're bringing her off. She looks so still. She's still under the anesthetic. With the operation all right? The surgeon's in the operating room. You can ask him. You mean I can go in there? Yes. Doctor. Doctor. Yes? My wife. You... Will she live? Of course she will. The operation was a success. In time, she should recover full health. Oh, thanks. That's great, isn't it? Thanks, Doctor. Thank you. Excuse me. Oh, look out, look out. Don't bump into that tray of instruments. Oh, I'm sorry. Perhaps you'd be interested to see the instrument that did the trick. This one. You mean that little knife? That's the thing that saved my wife? Yes. New technique, especially for this delicate operation. I see. Do you mind... Can I see it? Certainly. But be careful here. This little gadget. Look, Willie. Your gun is made of steel. Raising high against the stars, new temples for a newer and finer life. Brave, hardy men with a noble heritage. Builders of an empire in the sky. Builders of steel tools to cut our way into the secrets of the future. Builders of steel, we salute you. Heroes of the American cavalcade. Those of you who have visited New York or have seen pictures of that great example of modern steel construction, the Empire State Building, know how nobly it stands gleaming against the sky. The shining metal used on the outside of the Empire State Building is stainless steel, an alloy of steel with a high amount of chromium in it. And one reason why it has such a smooth mirror-like surface is that it was pickled after the steel was rolled into sheets. Now, most of us think of pickling as something connected with onions or cucumbers or pig feet. But the word has an important meaning in the iron and steel business, in fact in all metal manufacturing. It describes the process by which metal objects are cleaned of the scale and rust that accumulates on their surfaces during the earlier stages of manufacture. This is important, not merely for the sake of appearance and to make it possible for the metal to take a finish, but especially to prevent corrosion and wear. Before the year 1800, when the chemistry of metal energy was relatively undeveloped, fermented barley water was used for this cleaning purpose, and it took a long time. Then someone started to use acid, and today various acids, sulfuric, muriatic, nitric, and hydrochloric, are used, each having its special place and use. Most iron and steel is pickled with sulfuric acid. The stainless steel we just spoke of is pickled with a mixture of these acids. Now, in a great skyscraper, all of the galvanized piping and conduits, all of the copper and brass, the iron stairways, and the steam radiators, not to mention all of the metal furniture and the offices, have to be pickled before they're finished for use. Steel auto bodies, which have to be smooth to take a fine finish, are another example of pickling. And I'm sure you've all seen suspension bridges like the famous George Washington Bridge, with their great cables of wire rope. This wire rope is galvanized too, and before it can be galvanized, it must undergo a pickling process. The acids I mentioned a short while ago are simply named to most people, but now we see how important they are to industry and to building. These acids are made by DuPont and supplied to industries the country over. The story of their usefulness serves as a good example of DuPont's phrase, better things for better living through chemistry. Now we have a special message for school teachers. So many teachers of history and English and dramatic, as well as principals of schools, have written us about the interest they and their pupils take in the cavalcade of America and how helpful the programs are in connection with class work in these subjects, that we shall call attention from time to time to forthcoming broadcasts. Next week's program entitled Speed of Words deals with the progress of communication from the days of clipper shifts and the pony express to the present day of radio. We urge teachers to recommend it to the students next week at this same time. The cavalcade of America presented by DuPont. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System, a news bulletin from the Press Radio Bureau in New York. The borough of the Bronx in sections of Upper Manhattan are without light as a result of a fire in an uptown electric powerhouse early this evening. Service has been restored in the Bronx in some sections of Manhattan. When the service stopped, street lights went out and industrial plants within the area were idle. Service on the independent subway system as far south as Columbus Circle was halted. This news is from the Press Radio Bureau. Further details will be found in your newspaper. W-A-B-C, New York.