YOU'LL NEVER BE THE SAME

My name is Edward Brown. I'm bound for America in a jet aircraft, a DC8. I haven't a care in the world except that American idiom can be a bit confusing sometimes. So, I'm putting in a little practice while I can. This is my boy Peter. He's just finished technical college, and nothing I could say would stop him from coming along. We're flying out together, but in New York, we'll part company, and Peter will be on his own. All right, you've sold the stamp collection to pay for the fair, but who's going to come up for your keep and expenses? Oh, I know you've got friends. Those chance Americans you met skiing. Optimistic, aren't you? There are about 180 million people in the United States. And you hope to find a Mrs. Jason and an Eldridge Sinclair. Talk of looking for a needle in a hay stack. Look, this is the proper way to travel. Make a daily plan with towns, hotels, and prices all neatly worked out. Get yourself organized. Organization is what counts. Look here, Peter. Keep a copy of this in case you get into trouble. And here we are looking for the needle in the hay stack. Meaning Lucille Jason among 8 and a half million New Yorkers. A couple of pages of Jason's of course. And as the lady's married, she's hidden behind her husband's Christian name. Oh, let's pick one and try. Never been to Europe. Sorry, wrong number. Just a moment, miss. I'm looking for a needle in a hay stack. Headquarters of the United Nations. Let's hope they will be united one day. Now, if dad's working to plan, he must be up there right now. And that's just what he's doing, my boy. And from here, St. Patrick's Cathedral looks just like a piece out of a playbox. Wall Street. This is the place for money. All right, Peter, but not on a Sunday. Fifth Avenue by the park. Isn't that the address on your matchbox, Peter? Lucille Jason, it is. And still mad on skiing. Who's this? The sheriff of Tombstone? What are you doing here? No, it's Will Harding, but he is from the West. seems to have taken a liking to Peter. All right. Salute, amigo. You want to see America? I'll make you a proposition. Look, a little present for my wife. I want it driven to Texas. Do me a favor. Take it there. Yes, you. I'll be flying around on business for a while. You do the driving. I'll cover the expenses. Okay. But take my advice and keep to the side roads. The real America starts where the main highways leave off. And when you see that, you'll never be the same. Father, of course, is working to plan, seeing Washington from the air, laid out a bit like Paris. And no wonder a Frenchman built it. The Pentagon, headquarters of the American War Department and the world's largest office building, is almost a town in itself. It accommodates 32,000 people. And here are the monuments to America's great presidents, Jefferson and George Washington, and Abraham Lincoln, who freed the slaves and died at the hands of an assassin in 1865. In this temple, as in the hearts of the people for whom he saved the Union, the memory of Abraham Lincoln is enshrined forever. Goodbye, New York. You're not worried, Peter, are you? At leaving the last link with the old country. Ahead lies a new country and fresh adventure. Come on, let's get with it. is the American site. But not too fast, old boy. That might happen to you. And remember, keep to the side roads. America starts where the big highways end. But the side roads call for a navigator. Oh boy, some car. Want to earn a bit on the next payment? Why not? Traveling on expenses is fine, but what's wrong with a little exercise, particularly when you're paid for it? Money is easy to earn here, but hard to keep, as Peter will find out. For today, my program covers a visit to Monsanto Chemicals Limited. I'm in the building trade myself, and plastics are being used more and more for flooring, walls, and insulation. And in this, the America is far ahead of us. Hey, what the Isn't the road wide enough? Well, well, so now you're a chauffeur to a Texas millionaire. Well, here goes my plan. Peter insisted I go with him to Indiana because we're invited, he says, to visit a farm. Call this a farm. Nobody around. No chickens, no dogs, no farm hands. Looks more like a refinery. Warren North. Another of your matchbox addresses. Pleased to meet you, Mr. North. Tell me, what are all those push buttons for? Well, this is a cattle feeding machine. Something like a kitchen mixer on a grand scale. You push this button here for corn. The next one is for molasses. Number three is for ensul for vitamins and hormones. The machine does the lot, mixing, conveying, and distributing. But come to the house. Let me show you my hobby. Look at all the different colors. During supper, Mr. North tells us about his farm. He grows 1,000 acres of corn with only two full-time helpers. But of course, he has his machines. This is the only way to fatten up his livestock efficiently. 1,500 hogs and,200 head of cattle which are fattened in 3 months from 800 to,200 lb. Daily increase £3 per animal. If to eat is the motto around here. And when the beasts reach their required weight, they're sent to market and are succeeded by newborners three times a year. Peter makes himself useful. He has his hands full all the time. And so has the pastor where he and his wife tend their flock. On Sunday, Indiana gave Peter a taste of the real America. But now, well, Mrs. Harding is waiting for her car. Over,00 miles from New York and it's still a good way to Texas, Peter wonders what's ahead of him. I'm back to plan again. That means the city of St. Louis and the Mississippi River. And Peter's got ahead of me. 300 miles downstream at Memphis, he's crossing the Mississippi, too. Glory. Old man River. On this spot less than a 100red years ago, Negro slaves were dragging their bales of cotton to the waiting ships. All gone. Gone with the wind. The slaves and their masters. But here in the south, cotton is still king. Well, got it. Not so about the running of the road. You just want to lay down. We got to get this party. We just got to get there. We'll be right flowers. Can we go in your car? Oh, that would be great. Oh, I get stuck. Oh, good. Did I get in? I beg your pardon. Now, where's that gear shift? I really do appreciate this. We just take your toes on like this. Curiosity about the foreigner in America is an endearing quality and especially so in the hospitable south. The ladies of the garden club invite Peter to stay on. Surely he's not in any special hurry. It's a tempting offer, but Mrs. Harding must have her car. So, into the eye of the setting sun on the dead straight run to Texas. These are the Dereks of Kilgore. When oil was struck in the 30s, a boom town mushroomed almost overnight. And here, Will Harding made his pile. not in oil, for he was a carpenter. He became a building contractor. The vast expanse of Texas, where the west begins, put the whole of the British Isles two and a half times into this giant, and there'll be room to spare. Though there's plenty of space here, too. Skyscrapers for big, bigger, biggest is always the motto. Journeys end. Will Harding is out so Peter has time to explore State Fair. The fairground is of course the biggest, but it's the hot dogs that beat all records. They're the biggestest. 185. These children are members of an organization, the Future Farmers of America, and raise the animals themselves and often make large sums of money with which they finance their higher education. A do-it-yourself scholarship and perhaps a lesson to the old world. Hello, Peter. Had a good trip, Benito to Texas. I always say that traveling changes people. I bet you'll never be the same. How about a little snack? Hey, come on. You kept to the side roads, so you must have seen the possibilities of this vast country. Just remember three things. Think big. Act big. Be big. I've been broke even as a married man, but never poor. Poverty is a state of mind. How do you like that, Susie? Now, at last, Mrs. Harding gets her car. Peter wants to adapt himself to his new environment. And at Olsson Steltzers, they make him look tall in the saddle. Can run up pretty high. Oh yeah. Does run very high, too. Oh yeah. Peter's first public appearance is well most encouraging. Will Harding owns a ranch nearby and just the place for a green horn to win his spurs. Babies need care. American hygiene is a wonderful thing even for calves. Get along, little doggy. Get along. Lots to learn. Here, too. Peter stays a while and earns his keep. Distances are great, and Harding's interests are widely scattered, his plane becomes a practical necessity. His wife flies, too, better than she drives, thank goodness. Well, this is it. Time to say goodbye to the Hardings. Dad's got to go home. It says so on his schedule. Well, good thing I gave him a copy of my itinerary. There's nothing to beat proper organization. Peter knows that I'm now looking over a rubber soul factory. And incidentally, today is my birthday. Give me uh Western Union. What I don't know is that the three of them are up to something. Kenny Kenny is there. Mr. Brown, your Mr. Brown right here. Brown, I have a message for you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear father. Happy birthday to you. Thank you. My goodness. My goodness. Congratulations. On to New Mexico. Harding and Peter go by road. Mrs. Harding is safer in the plane. New Mexico, not to be confused with the Mexico south of the border, is one of the youngest states of the union. The Spanish conquerors sought in vain for the legendary seven golden cities of Cibila. For the cities were a mirage, an illusion of the shimmering sunlight on distant rock formations. Instead of gold, the concistadoris found breathtaking beauty. The land of enchantment as it is known to this day. This is my home, says Harding. Here I was born and this is where I have my roots. My grandmother was Spanish. Here she was baptized and buried. Maria Deopñena was her name. And we still use her recipes. Santa Fe. The Spanish past is everywhere, but this is the oldest state capital in the country. Santa Fe isn't exactly on my itinerary, but what a get up. Going to a fancy dress ball. Just a minute. I'll come along, too. The tricks he's learned. Welcome to ah the famous Mr. Harding had a good trip. I hope a barbecue party. Everyone helps and the Hardings do the cooking. Yeah. This is their son, Richard. Words got around and friends arrived from neighboring ranches, all with their mouths watering. Come and get it. The Bar Soviana brought over from the royal court in Warsaw by Emperor Maximillion of Mexico. It's a favorite in this region and no one is too old or too awkward to try. There's no stopping Harding. He's off again, this time to California. And Peter and I are to follow. Will has wangled me an invitation from the Association of Californian Builders. To please our host, we stop off at the little primitive Spanish church at Chimaya. And for safety's sake, we call on San Martin Cabayerro, the patron saint of travel. This is a reservation. 2 and a half million acres of land given over tax-free to 50,000 Indians. They were converted to Christianity by Spanish missionaries and today is a festival of San Diego. Holy, but the ancient Indian rituals still survive. This is the deer dance. A prayer for rain, for abundant crops, and good hunting. The Indians are reticent when you ask them about the symbolic meaning of the dance. They will only say the white man thinks different thoughts. Now, the Grand Canyon really is the biggest, and American knowhow had nothing to do with it. It's just there. From 8 to 20 m wide and over 200 m long, it took the trifle of 12 million years to dig. Some excavation job, eh? But the Colorado River bulldozed it out to a depth of nearly 6,000 ft. It looks like a mere stream from up here. Yet, it is 120 yards wide and daily carries a million tons of rocks and gravel down to the Pacific Ocean. The goldseeking Spaniards attempted to pass through here, but they were so aed by this gigantic clft in the earth's crust, so overwhelmed by the obstacle it presented that they fled and never returned. It was only in recent times that the Grand Canyon was rediscovered and made accessible. Here in Nevada, the West is still wild, as it should be, and nowhere more so than in Las Vegas, where anything goes. And it's wine, women, and song round the clock with gambling, too. resisting some of the temptations we put up at the Blue Angel Motel. Uh, no, you don't get one of these with every room. Even marriage is big business here. And the matrimonial knot can be tied deafly, if not securely, at any time of the day or night. The all-inclusive fee covers parking as well as the ceremony. Reach, mister. This one bandit is after your money. Unless you hit the jackpot. And then he forks out. This is an obliging town. Visitors departing with empty pockets and a bad hangover can get aspirin and tender sympathy free of charge at any petrol filling station. This is an arid region, but rich in minerals, and all that is left of a one-time boom town, is a ghost town. In its heyday, just as brash and boisterous as Las Vegas, it was built on silver. But the veins petered out, the wheel stood still, and the desert took back what it had so temptingly offered. From east to west, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, California. Sea lions, circus favorites and the best jugglers in the world. Here they romped in freedom. Then at last, San Francisco, the west coast metropolis that grew out of a gold mining village. The Golden Gate, last outpost of the far west and gateway to the Orient. We pull up at a filling station and not for the car this time, but for the passenger. The steering wheel makes a handy dining table and the food is excellent. My last flight with Will Hardy. When he bought this pasture land for a song 20 years ago, he was really thinking big. Now they're building 2,500 houses on it. Let's watch them build. Instead of deep dug foundations, each house stands on a concrete slab with the pipes and the mains already built in. For a building man like me, it's an eye opener. They put up a resilient timber framework, the skeleton afterwards being stiffened and insulated with boarding and a plaster finish on a wire netting base. Every house has a fireplace, central heating, and constant hot water at neat, cozy, cheap. When I ask how long such a house would last, I'm told indefinitely in the normal way. But there's not likely to be a single one standing in 50 years or so. They'll all be swept away by the surge of technical progress, expansion of the city, the inevitable change of taste. We build for the needs of today, not for our grandchildren. And the cost, oh, about 2 years income for a young workman, payable in easy installments, say uh 13 to $16,000, a couple of hundred down, and the rest spread over 20 years. And what kind of people live here? Well, here's a surprise for Peter. It's Eldridge Sinclair, the friend he couldn't find in New York. Thanks, Lord, for this food and the many. He lives in such a house, and the good health of our children and our friend. Now, it's Thanksgiving Day complete with turkey and all the trimmings. And so, we come to the end of our voyage out and start organizing the flight home. Christmas is coming and local taste runs to trees of every color. Take your pick. What? A green one. San Francisco being the gateway to the Far East, I invite my host to a farewell meal in Japanese style. So we sit down to a suki yaki on the floor and I raise my glass of saki in a parting toast. Permit me, Mrs. Harding, to hand you the key of our car, I mean your car, and to return the compliment of the singing telegram by providing the music for your birthday. We had a rather strange idea of America when we set out, but now we have discovered that the people are well, yes, different from ourselves. And yet they're basically the same. Now it's time for us to go home. Two Europeans dressed like Americans and changed inside as well with different ideas and a new outlook. As Will Harding always says, "You'll never be the same.