CO 7 ~ OH? f -jr O B M Sfl7 -513 b (> D GIFT * S3 A3 ^ oe J OF Famo The Lights Go Out The Last Day and ^Jight of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition at San Francisco, California / *^? (/ &/ / ,-^- $ tf oAn Account of tine Closing Ceremonies of the kc 'u.et, Panama-Pacific International Exposition San Francisco 'December Fourth The Lights Go Out 7T/6 The Last Day an of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition at San Francisco California TO those that have rejoiced in the Exposition some account of its final hour is due. Its end was beau- tiful, for nature itself was at its kindest. It had rained heavily all the day before, but the morning of December 4th broke as fair as any dayin midsum- mer, and by eleven o'clock the sun was burning in a cloud- less California sky. Men carried their overcoats on their arms. Within the shadow of the Tower of Jewels and on one of the lower terraces of the Court of the Universe a stand had been erected on which sat the Directors of the Exposi- tion, Commissioners of foreign governments and domestic states, and representatives of the Army and Navy, of the State of California, and of the city of San Francisco. A ma- rine guard of honor formed two lines down the broad stairs. To right and left buglers were stationed. From the Arches of the Rising and of the Setting Sun, the colossal Nations of the East and Nations of the West looked down upon a multitude that could not have numbered less than 150,000 The Lights Go Out The Lights Go Out people not a sad audience, but a satisfied and a gratified one, for the work to which the city had set its hand had been completed. The Philippine Constabulary band played. President Moore stepped forward and introduced the business of the day. "Our task is done," he said. "The end of six years earnest endeavor has come. We shall begin these ceremonies with the reading by Mr. Arthur Arlett, member of the Cali- fornia State Commission, of George Sterling's poem, writ- ten for this occasion." Mr. Arlett read: The Builders The year grows old, but Progress has no age : Her flags go forward to increasing light; Behind her lies the night; It is a ceaseless war her soldiers wage, And on her great and ever-widening sky, "Onward!" is still the truceless battle-cry. The Future is our kingdom, and altho Our hands unbuild the city they have built, Yet here no blood is spilt Nor swords uplifted for a nation's woe. And tho the columns and the temples pass, Let none regret; let no man cry "Alas!" We do but cross a threshold into day. Beauty we leave behind, A deeper beauty on our path to find And higher glories to illume the way. The door we close behind us is the Past: Our sons shall find a fairer door at last. A world reborn awaits us. Years to come Shall know its grace and good, When wars shall end in endless brotherhood, And birds shall build in cannon long since dumb. Men shall have peace, tho then no man may know Who built this sunset city long ago. Wherefore, be glad! Sublimer walls shall rise, Which these do but foretell. Be glad indeed! for we have builded well, And set a star upon our western skies Whose fire shall greaten on a land made free, Till all that land be bright from sea to sea ! On the stroke of noon the President of the Exposition read the toast of President Wilson, having explained that it would be given the world around at that moment: three o'clock at New York, three forty-three at Buenos Aires, eight o'clock in the evening at Paris, nine o'clock at Stock- holm, five o'clock Sunday morning at Tokio, six o'clock in The Lights Go Out The Lights Melbourne. "I call your attention to it that you may see C'n Out t ^ iat t ^ ie wof k t ^ iat has keen clone by the devoted Foreign and State Commissioners has produced a bond the like of which, we believe, has not existed before." The toast was: "The Panama-Pacific International Exposition: "Which in its conception and successful accomplishment gave striking evidence of the practical genius and artistic taste of America; "Which in its unusual and interesting exhibits afforded impressive illustration of the development of the arts of peace; and "Which in its motive and object was eloquent of the new spirit which is to unite East and West and make all the world partners in the common enterprises of progress and humanity. " Woodrow Wilson, President of the United States." Then came a bit of allegory, composed by Lawrence W. Harris of the foundation committee of the Exposition. A Boy Scout was summoned to carry the Exposition's message to the school children of the world. President Moore put a silk ribbon with a decoration about his neck, and he departed between the ranks of sailors. A Journalist was sum- moned, decorated and sent forth. " To Journalism," said the President, "has been assigned the great task of carrying the meaning of the Exposition to all men. Go, good friend, there is work for you to do." To a Toiler, with his sledge, the Exposition's President said: "Tell the toilers of the world, our brethren, that they have contributed nobly to man's betterment and the world's advancement." The Cowboy, the Surveyor, the Soldier and the Sailor were commissioned to carry the message into the unsettled places of the earth, to all far shores and throughout the seven seas. Finally three Exposition Guards were summoned. The chairman of the association of foreign commissioners dec- orated one, the head of the association of the commission- ers of domestic states decorated another, and the President of the Exposition took from about his own neck the ribbon of Exposition colors he wore and put it about the neck of the third. With it went the message to the President of the United States, which the Guards were charged to dispatch; the message reading: "San Francisco, California, December 4, 1915. "HONORABLE WOODROW WILSON, President of the United States, White House, Washington, D. C. "Your inspiring sentiment has at the appointed time just been read. 'The enthusiasm it received is expressive of our hope that real world service has been performed here. "Our task is finished. We realize that time, and time alone, must determine the exa8 place in the scale of human usefulness The Lights Go Out The Lights ^ at history will accord us. The contributions of Nations, States, C'o Out organizations and individuals have been offered with earnestness and the enthusiastic hope that results beneficial to the world's progress and advancement will follow. "Your endorsement of our efforts is most gratifying. "Please accept assurance of affectionate and patriotic regard. CHARLES C MOORE, President Panama-Pacific International Exposition." The Guards marched away, the sailors fired a salute from their rifles, the big guns on the battleships boomed forth. From the top of the Tower of Jewels an American flag, a wreath and an Exposition banner descended a long, slant- ing cable to a point over the heads of the crowd, where doves were released, to circle uncertainly awhile and then join the flocks that have given animation to the Court of the Uni- verse throughout the Exposition period. During the afternoon, ceremonial calls and farewells were exchanged between the Foreign and State Commissioners and the Directors of the Exposition. The people were pour- ing through the gates like army corps, 459,022 of them in all, swelling the total for the period to 18,876,438. It was a larger attendance than on the greatest day at St. Louis and contributed to a larger total of paid admissions. Accompanied by buglers, an escort of Exposition Guards and soldiers, and a "town crier" in colonial costume, the President of the Exposition and the Director of the Divi- sion of Exhibits went the round of the palaces (with the ex- ception of the Palace of Fine Arts which was to remain open four months longer), to say to the various exhibitors and department chiefs, "Well done, and good-bye," and to com- mand the latter formally to close their doors at six o'clock. The ceremony took place in each instance on a little plat- form at a main entrance, and was accompanied by the low- ering of the palace flag. Night came on, and the world's wonder of lights; the Ex- position lights that would never shine again a red glow on Kelham's towers, rose flame in the porches of the Machin- ery Palace, dim reflections in the Lagoon of the Palace of Fine Arts and the broad basin in the Court of the Four Seasons, the splendor of the giant monstrances in the Court of Abun- dance, the silver phosphorescence of the Adventurous Bow- man on his column and the Lord of the Isthmian Way on his rack-o'-bones horse, the tremulous, frosty shimmer of the hundred thousand jewels of the great spire; and over all, the long bands, like lambent metal, of bronze and crimson and green and blue, from the forty-eight searchlights on the Yacht Harbor mole, bands that barred the heavens so far that they deceived the eye and in the southeast appeared to converge beyond the hills of the city. The Lights Go Out The Lights Go Out There were fireworks on the Marina, with bursting globes of gold reflected in the waters of the Yacht Harbor and the Bay. But long before midnight the crowds left the scene and poured from the Esplanade into the Court of the Uni- verse for the last a