 The Cavalcade of America. Many listeners have written letters of approval on the Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont. F.P.K. of Chicago Rights. Such splendid work in behalf of American education is most commendable. We look forward to more programs of such sterling character. End of quotation. And from Baltimore comes this word from Mr. H.M. Last night, I had the pleasure of listening to the Cavalcade of America. This program reaches a new high in dignified, interesting entertainment. End of quotation. Perhaps the most adequate way of expressing DuPont's appreciation for such letters is to say that we are sincerely trying to produce a high type of radio entertainment. We should appreciate your comments, because that's the only way we have of knowing whether we are pleasing you and your family. Address your letter or postcard to DuPont, Wilmington, Delaware, or to your radio station. Our Cavalcade Orchestra sets the stage for this evening's first story with an overture composed especially for the occasion. It makes use of some of the original musical themes which our conductor, Harold Levy, has composed for the Cavalcade of America. Our primitive man, feared the power of nature, civilized man utilizes that same power to his advantage through engineering. In our own country, more than any other, nature has been harnessed to improve our living conditions. And this evening, we pay tribute to our American engineers. It is the year 1810 as our story opens. The scene is a farm in western New York. Pa, Ma, now look at all that mud you're attacking him, teacher. What are you supposed to have just seen? Beyond the clearance, surveyors, a whole gang of them with rods and lines and levelers they've called him, I think. What are surveyors doing on our land? You'll never guess, Pa, not in a thousand years. They're marking out a route for a canal. What a canal? It's going to connect Lake Erie with the Hudson River. What are you laughing at, Pa? Do you know where Lake Erie is, son? Well, sure I do. At the western end of New York State. And the Hudson is at the opposite end. And between them... It's going to be a canal. The longest canal in the world. Well, that's what the man in charge told me. Well, when you get to be my age, Peter, you'll know enough to take these stories with a grain of salt. You don't believe it. You can ask him yourself, because he's on his way over here to see you. He said he wanted to talk to you. Well, that's why I run on ahead. Let you know. Oh, there he is now. Goodness, my floor all messed up. Looking like it hadn't been scrubbed in a week. Come in, mister. This is the gentleman I was talking to, father. How to do this? I'm Charles Brody. I'm glad to meet you. I'm in charge of a survey. He did tell us. Is it really true that that's going to build a canal through here? Well, they hope to. There. What did they hear? It's still just an idea. And a fool won't do, yes, me. Robert Fulton doesn't think it's a fool idea, or do it Clinton. Or Gouverneur Morris. They say it'll do more than anything else to open up this country of ours. Encourage folks to move west. Help the farmers. Help the farmers? How? Well, by giving them a better way to get their produce to market. That's the reason if it can be shipped to Albany by boat instead of being hauled 200 miles over land, it'll pay you to clear more land, higher health. Raise double what you do now. Mister, do you know how far it is across New York State from Buffalo to Albany? About 300 miles is the coastline, and only canals don't fly. They got to pick their way along the ground through rock and around marshes and between hills. Nearer 375 miles it'll be. I wouldn't be surprised. That's a long way to dig, mister. Have they figured who's going to pay for it? He'll cost a tidy little sum this ditch. And if they think we're going to pay taxes on it... I'd be willing to be taxed to have a canal here. Oh, since what it wouldn't mean to be in boats to buy regular, with folks on them. Near enough to wade to. Here where we don't see nobody for weeks and weeks on end. And don't get your hopes up, ma'am. The canal ain't started yet. It will be though, someday. Which brings me to my real purpose in coming here to see it. I'm wondering if you can put me and my men up while we're working around here. I didn't mind, you could do anything that would be of help. Thank you very much. Now I must be getting back. Oh, Mr. Broadhead, just a minute. Could I, uh, you think, would it... What is it, boy? Could you give me a job? Doing what? Well, anything, sir. I wouldn't care. Just so long as it was something. I've got some college boys working for me and holding markers for the experience they get. They don't get paid anything. I just want to help. Well, I'll be glad to take you on, mate. Thank you, sir. Holding markers at nothing a week. Well, it's something just the same. A part in helping to build a canal. Seven years went by. Seven years of battling against argument and opposition and ridicule. But those with the vision carried on. And finally in Albany on the 15th day of April, 1817, the Senate passed Clinton's canal bill. On the 4th of July of that same year, 1817, a little group of people, including our friend, the farmer and his family, are gathered at Rome, New York. It is just before sunrise. It's a funny place to start digging, you ask me. Right in the middle. Well, I ain't only started one end. Albany and Buffalo are both going to be tough places to dig. I want to start, but they make a good showing. You know, to encourage folks. Right here, there's a long level of fresh. Who's that man standing next to Governor Clinton, you know? Oh, he's an engineer. Canvass White. Canvass? Well, what a funny name. He's just back from England. Clinton sent him over there to study canal systems. I think it's wonderful you're going to have a part in this piece. Yuck smart, ain't much. Just helping with the timber work. No, why don't they hurry up and get this ceremony going? They're waiting for the sun to come up. Clearest news you never heard of. Holding it at this hour. I think it's mighty kitten. The dawn of a new day. The sun's pretty well up now. Governor's stepping forward. He's got a shovel in his hand. For the first and only time in his life. I'll warn you. My friends, we have assembled here to commence the excavation of the Sierra Canals. The countries with this canal will connect. The consequences it will produce are without a parallel in the history of mankind. Over 300 miles of wilderness will be transformed into nothing. Years went by. Eight years of heartbreaking, backbreaking work of problems and obstacles. Woods to be cleared. Rock to be drilled through. Swamp with a much rammed back as fast as it was shoveled out. Where crew after crew of men were laid low with sills and fever. A year sometimes with only a mile to show. But still they kept on. Mile by mile, month by month, year by year. So finally one day in the autumn of 1825. Yes, no, we'll be able to get the signals. Why, we can, Mrs. Moff. They've got cannon all along the line. 10 to 15 miles apart. When they get the water in they'll fire a first one at Buffalo, a big 32 pounder. And the next one will pick up the sound and carry it on. And at last the signal reaches New York. Yeah, a lot of trouble he asked me just to make some noise. I noticed you're hanging around. Just as he gives the rest of us waiting to hear it. Well, of course I am. That signal is going to mean dollar a bushel wheat to me. It's going to mean the beginning of a whole new life for me. A chance to see folks and things happening. A quick trip myself, maybe. But when the water reaches those pieces, theory water added me. Very soon now. The water of Lake New York flowing to the hubs. I can't, ma. To me it's not water, it's sweat. The sweat of the poor fellows who have dug this canal. Who've pulled stumps and pushed barrels and raffled with rocks. Who've clipped with peels and fever. Wet and blood. The light blood of the men who planned it and carried it through. I see it. It's finished. The theory canal is ready. Over a hundred years have passed since the theory canal was built. Great as it was in its day. It seems small in comparison with our modern engineering clients. Yet it was this early undertaking with its problems and its difficulties that laid the foundation for constructive engineering in America. Our second story in DuPont's Cavalcade of America this evening begins in 1920. That was the year when everyone started humming the songs from Jerome Kern's new musical play, Sally, in which Marilyn Miller played her first big star part. Our Cavalcade orchestra takes us back to 1920 with melodies from Sally. American Cavalcade moves onward. It is Columbus Day, 1920, a hundred years after the building of the Erie Canal. Holiday traffic jams the highways. On the jersey shore of the Hudson, automobiles by the hundreds and thousands are waiting in line for a chance to board its ferries that shuttle back and forth to New York. In one of them sits the newspaper reporter with his wife and young son. Oh dear, this is the worst of going anywhere on a holiday. There's still about a mile of cars ahead of us and it gets worse every year too. And will for a few more years. And there'll be no more of us waiting in line for ferries. You mean we'll fly across the river? No dear, he means we'll stay at home. Wrong, both of you. We'll drive right under the river. Under the river? Bob, what in the world are you talking about? There are no vehicular tunnels. They've started work on it today. What's a vehicular tunnel, dad? Tunnel for all kinds of vehicles, Johnny. Automobiles and trucks. This will be the largest tunnel of a kind in the world. When it's finished, folks will be able to drive from Jersey City to downtown New York in just a few minutes. But who are they ever going to build a tunnel like that, dad? Don't ask me, Johnny. I'm not an engineer. I'm only a newspaper reporter. You could get a pass and couldn't go down and watch them while they're building it. Oh sure, I suppose I could. And take me with you? Well, maybe. It'll be a long time before there's anything to see. But when there is something to see, the line's moving here. Yeah, at last. Let's hopefully get aboard the ferry soon. The years have passed. It is October 1922. Work on the Great Hudson Tunnel, that is to connect New York with New Jersey, is well underway. And Johnny has granted his wish to visit the vast undertaking. After a thorough physical examination, he and his father, Don Overalls and Delages, are escorted by an engineer down to where the construction work is in progress. Work goes on day and night, doesn't it? It's seven days a week. With an investment of some 48 million dollars in this undertaking, we can't afford to lose any time. How much traffic will this tunnel carry? 1,900 vehicles an hour in each direction. Or 46,000 a day. How long will this tunnel take? The total length will be 9,250 feet. The part actually under the river will be 5,400 feet. More than a mile. And how far along are they now? About halfway. No. See, we're working from both ends. Oh, and you'll leave the mill? We hope. We can't be till the time comes. No supposing in an engineering job like this, son, we have to make absolutely certain every time the field moves forward that it's on the right course with Robert Gray. That's the worst of tunnel building. We can't go back and undo what you've done. Once a mistake's made, it's just too bad. Oh, do you want to never start working from both ends at once, then? Yeah, that's just what I was wondering. Well, I guess the answer to that is that engineers are optimistic. There has to be, the job you tackle. Ah, here we are at the field itself. Are we going fast? Sure. I'm afraid not. I'd like to be there with you, but put your head and open up a little hole for the mud in order to come in. We'll be over exciting. Very awful. How do you mean? Not knowing what may happen. It's a moment full of terrible possibility. I don't see what you mean. The air pressure has reduced too much. The whole riverbed may start caving in on them. If there's too much pressure, there's a danger of a blowout. It's amazing to me that you can get men for such hazardous jobs. Have you ever stopped to think what it must be like to be responsible for them? I know I wouldn't sleep like this, if I were. I don't believe he does. Clifford Holland, the chief engineer. Terrific strain he lives under. He never goes anywhere even for an hour without leaving word where he can be reached in case of emergency. How much longer will it be before the tunnel's finished? We hope to have the tubes completed and joined in another two years. You still haven't told us how they're going to be ventilated. We don't know yet. But again, you're optimistic. So am I. I think American engineers can do anything. Foot by foot, thrust by thrust. The great steel seals board and burl their way through the darkness and dangers of the under river world. To make a passageway for human beings. Four years have passed since first they started on their way. As they approach one another, excitement mounts. Closer, closer, until only a few feet of riverbed separates them. Engineers and sand hogs alike wait breathlessly. About to play the breaking through shot. You're telling me what you think I got eyes and ears. Do you got any money on it? I ain't, but why not? You've been saying all along they'd meet with a couple of inches each other. I know, but I ain't, but why not? I'm afraid. Why? On account of Mr. Holland. There's three days before the job's done. I don't look on it that way, Joe. No. The way I look on it, everything must be okay. But Mr. Holland would never pass on. You think he knew he was leaving things? Yeah, sure he did. Let's just hurry up. Get it over with. There you go. Listen, let's hear what I tell you. He couldn't perform on the left. I'm going to ask him. Can't you see the way they grieve? I beg your pardon, sir, but could you show us the two tubes left within a fraction of an inch? It is the 12th day of November, 1927. And the tunnel is ready to be opened. A great shining white highway, ingeniously lighted, miraculously ventilated, connecting New York and New Jersey beneath the waters of the mighty Hudson. The ceremony is attended by thousands of people by an imposing list of notables for the governors of both states. Governor Moore of New Jersey is speaking. Even to those who are unfamiliar with the many grave difficulties encountered in the course of construction, the tunnel stands out as an engineering achievement for the purpose of building it. Much could be said of the eminent engineer in whose memory and honor the tunnel is named, his successor who also dies while the task was still underway. Let us pay tribute today to the memories of Clifford Milburn Holland and Milton H. Freeman, as well as to the skill of Ole Singstar, who completed the task based on aboard the Mayflower, will press a key, the same key which President Woodrow Wilson used in opening the Panama Canal. Then the flag that each end of the tunnel will part, and the Holland tunnel will be open for traffic. Builders reach. No longer does nature stand on the way of man's progress. We fling bridges across rivers and harbors, bore tunnels through mountains, honest wild streams, divide continents, and seize the very lightning from the sky. Our engineers take their places among the leaders of the world as they march onwards in the cavalcade of America. No description of the ways in which man defies nature would be complete without mention of the tools he has used. We live in an age of wonders, but we never cease to marvel at such engineering feats as the Holland Tunnel, New York City's water supply and subway system, the Cascades and Moffat Railroad Tunnels in Washington and Colorado, and the giant dams of the far west, all made possible through the help of explosives. Think how much we owe to the chemists who discovered this useful energy and taught us how to put it to work. I wonder how many of our listeners realize that the discovery of dynamite is relatively recent. It didn't make its appearance until 1867, and much of the credit for America's great industrial expansion since that time must be attributed to this method of overcoming the obstacles of nature. Dynamite made it possible to construct railroads over and through mountains and to clean out channels in rivers and harbors. It's responsible for the large-scale mining of nearly all the coal we use and of the many metals so important to countless industries. Move roads, great irrigation projects, the draining of mosquito-breathing swamps, forest fire prevention through the clearing of fire lanes, and the restoration of the dams and water power development, all are possible through the aid of dynamite. DuPont Chemists have made many improvements in industrial explosives and have developed entirely new ones. All of these advances have contributed to improved quality, greater economy, and increased safety. One interesting product recently created by DuPont Chemists is called Nitromar. This new blasting agent cannot be exploded by influences that will readily set off dynamite. This new blasting agent cannot be exploded by influences that will readily set off dynamite. Nitromar is therefore far safer than anything previously used for the same purposes. In spite of its unusual safety, Nitromar is extremely powerful and economical to use. Such a development in safety is a good illustration of the purpose of DuPont's chemical research. Better things for better living through chemistry. Next Wednesday at this same time, DuPont will again present the Cavalcade of America. Welcome to our broadcasting system. W-A-B-C, New York.