 the snow, cap, mountain, breeze. The cliffs are solid, granite, and the valley's always green. This is just as close to heaven as my traveling feet have been. Roll, Columbia, won't you roll? Envisioned an empire of freedom and opportunity in the far northwest, his bold determination sent Lewis and Clark westward through the wilderness, down the course of America's greatest power stream. To countless Americans, the Columbia has been a river of hope, a shining symbol of plenty. And men have followed the great river of the west down to the Pacific to sow their crops and cut the timber, to build a colonial empire, sending out its boundless resources to the far corners of the earth. Upstream and in the mountain tributaries, the Columbia has been a wild and uncontrolled giant. Boiling over rapids and cataracts, 30 million horses plunged relentlessly to the sea. From the beginning of time, this power roared unhonest to the Pacific, only the returning salmon, instinctively fighting their way up to spawn, to defy the crashing falls and cascades, the same swirling fury which Indians whipped for salmon since the days of Captain Mary Weather Lewis. With the depression of the 30s, the nation again looked hopefully to the northwest frontier, seeking opportunity in a still undeveloped country. But the northwest, too, was feeling the impact of a worldwide depression. More than half the industrial workers were in forest industries. And the world no longer called for the logs and lumber of the northwest. Mills were abandoned. Some never to reopen. So there were no jobs for incoming workers, everywhere the same story. Men looking for work, not finding it. On the heels of the unemployed came the victims of the dust bowl. As the Columbia back into a people burned out by wind and drought. And our poor feet has traveled, and westward we rolled, and your deserts are hot, and your mountains are cold. We travel with the wind and the rain in our face. Our families migrating from place onto place feel still sundown tonight. Travel 300 miles for the morning gets live. Arizona, California, we'll make all your crops. Then it's northward to Oregon, together you're hot. Strawberries, cherries, and apples are best in that land full of promise at Pacific Northwest. So the migrants came to the heart of the great Columbia River basin to find land as burned and useless as the dust-stricken acres they had left behind. Eight inches of rain a year, too little for any crop. A year or two when the surface water was gone, and so were the farmers. An endless string of refugees from the dust bowl gazed at the arid acres and moved on. Broken wagon wheels, bleached cattle bones, were warning enough. If they were to find land, they must first bring the Columbia water to the lifeless acres. And Grand Coulee Dam was the answer. Uncle Sammy took the challenge in the year of 33 for the farmers and the workers and for all humanity. Now, River, you can ramble for the sun sets in the sea. But while you're rambling, River, you can do some work for me. Roll, Columbia, won't you roll, roll. A challenge to reclamation engineers to match the wonders of the Ice Age, to duplicate the glacial dam which centuries before had blocked the Columbia, wasted power of the Columbia. Not useless leap-breaking, but productive public works. They moved mountains, posed the landslide, laid down 10 million yards of concrete. I plumbed the Rocky Canyon where the Columbia River rolls, seen the salmon leaping, the rapids and the foals, the big Grand Coulee Dam in the state of Washington. It's just about the biggest thing that man has ever done. In times of size of Boulder or the highest pyramid, makes the Tower of Babel a plaything for a kid. From the rising of the river to the setting of the sun, the Coulee is the biggest thing that man had ever done. I'd better quit my talking cause I told you all I know. But please remember, partner, wherever you may go, I've been from here to Yonder, I've been from sun to sun. Coulee dam's the biggest thing that man has ever done. Cynic scoffed, called it a white elephant, but we went ahead. Confident the power would be needed in the years to come. 300 miles downstream at Bonneville, the Army engineers faced the fury of half a million feet of water every second. Cawfer dams were flooded. Equipment swept away. But at last, the project was completed. Bonneville Dam, a symbol of power and passage, opens up a region that has more than 10% of the nation's area, but only 3% of its people. Some drought and unemployment were forgotten when war enveloped the world. From our beleaguered allies came pleas for comfort, from our beleaguered allies came pleas for clouds of flames, for a bridge of ships, men and materials we had, factories we could build. But America desperately lacked one vital element, electricity. Electric power, the essential ingredients of aluminum and magnesium, the key to electrochemicals and ship building. In this hour of need, America looked westward to her last great hydroelectric reservoir. In the Northwest, she found a great new source of power to meet the challenge, the Columbia River. At Bonneville, half a million kilowatts to serve the new war plant. The colossus at Grand Coulee, coming into production in the nick of time, right on. Lifelines of liberty, taking a million horsepower out of the river canyon. 2,500 miles of shining circuits, using the strength of the Columbia to build ships faster than they were ever built before, making the wings for America. The aluminum for one out of every three of our fighting planes. Half a billion pounds a year, building the fortresses to keep the war from our shores, to turn the tide of battle, save the lives of our fighting men. In the barren hills below Grand Coulee, the stream grew warmer, almost magically. The atomic bomb, thus the power of the Columbia, helped bring our boys back from the Pacific two years sooner than they had dared hope. Look down in the canyon, and there you will see. Grand Coulee showers her blessings on me, because my pastures of plenty must always be free. With the war over, more and more people flock to America's fastest growing region. And the nation cried out for the materials the Northwest could produce, especially lumber, to meet the national housing crisis. Night and day, engineers worked to bring power to the new plants. Four of the Columbia was producing more than half the nation's supply of aluminum, a single rolling mill sending its metal to 600 factories from Texas to New England, for trains and trucks, roofs and siding, and countless everyday items. On the Columbia River, the atomic energy plant calls for more electric power, as science turns this discovery to mankind's betterment. Even the world's largest generators are insufficient to meet the mounting demands for power. New dams must be built, or America's vital electoral industries will fail to develop, or be forced to go abroad to their power. Industry we can ill afford to lose, too little power. The Northwest is suddenly faced with the irony of too much water. A late spring and the melting snows of the snake and northern tributaries pour together into the Columbia. Without a series of dams upstream to store the excess water, it rushes unchecked to the scene. A million cubic feet every second at Bonneville. And Van Ports, Oregon's second largest city, is swept away by the angry waters. The homes of 20,000 people afloat, beaten to kindling. Men and women who hopefully had sought refuge from dust and drought and depression, still holding the dream of a farm, a job, a home in the Valley of the Columbia. We worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes. And we slept on the ground, near the light of the moon. Cotton cut the grapes from your vine to set on your table, your light sparkling white. It takes home-loving mothers and strong-hearted men. Every state in this union, us migrants has been. Along the edge of your cities, you'll see us. And then we've come with the dust, and we're gone with the wind. More than 50 people dead, tens of thousands homeless, over $100 million lost. 30 million wild horses cast loose to trample the homes and the hopes of people of the Northwest. If we are to control the restless Columbia, we must first develop it, develop it for all its values, from the glacial headwaters to the Pacific. Government engineers say it can be done. And water power is the magic partner in making this development possible. Bonneville and Grand Coulee are only the beginning. 10 million horsepower of new energy swiftly can be harnessed on America's mightiest dream. Team the hazardous rapids. Open the Columbia waterway to navigation 500 miles inland. Provide endless water power to meet the grave electric shortage. Conserve our vital oil supply. Reclaim another million acres of dry but fertile land. Already, the power of Grand Coulee is paying a large share of the irrigation costs. 80 acres of garden land for the farmer burned out by dust and drought. A chance for the little fellow in the Big Bend country. Flood control must start high up in the headwaters, on the coutiner, in the flathead, in the Clark port. Provide water power to pay for the mighty dams that must be built. But you cannot control the Columbia unless you control its tributaries, including the mighty Snake River, which flows 1,000 miles through Idaho, Oregon, and Washington. In the heart of America's deepest canyon, government engineers have recommended a project as big as Boulder Dam, Hell's Canyon, a million kilowatt dam will create a 91-mile lake to hold back the unruly waters of the snake. Key dam in providing protection for the lower Columbia. Power to turn the nation's largest phosphate reserves into precious plant food for which a hungry world cries out. Power to extend the frontiers of opportunities for countless men and women who look westward hopefully for land and jobs, for security and happiness. Today, the inexhaustible power of the Columbia is speeding housing for all our people, giving birth to half the nation's supply of vital aluminum. Tomorrow, it can do infinitely more, for America's greatest power stream is still less than one-tenth developed. 30 million horsepower wasting to the sea, a tremendous force for good or for evil. So the mighty Columbia flings a challenge to a nation, daring it to show that our democracy has the vitality to develop a great river for all its values, for all its people. Set a pattern for the other nations of the world to follow so they can have food as well as freedom, peace as well as planting. That is the challenge of the Columbia.