_Mr. Governor, and you, my Fellow-Citizens_:
I am glad to be in Arizona to-day. From Arizona many gallant men came
into the regiment which I had the honor to command. Arizona sent men
who won glory on fought fields, and men to whom came a glorious and
an honorable death fighting for the flag of their country. As long
as I live it will be to me an inspiration to have served with Bucky
O’Neill. I have met so many comrades whom I prize, for whom I feel
respect and admiration and affection, that I shall not particularize
among them except to say that there is none for whom I feel all of
respect and admiration and affection more than for your Governor.
I have never been in Arizona before. It is one of the regions from
which I expect most development through the wise action of the
National Congress in passing the irrigation act. The first and
biggest experiment now in view under that act is the one that we are
trying in Arizona. I look forward to the effects of irrigation partly
as applied by and through the government, still more as applied by
individuals, and especially by associations of individuals, profiting
by the example of the government, and possibly by help from it—I look
forward to the effects of irrigation as being of greater consequence
to all this region of country in the next fifty years than any other
material movement whatsoever.
In the Grand Canyon, Arizona has a natural wonder which, so far as I
know, is in kind absolutely unparalleled throughout the rest of the
world. I want to ask you to do one thing in connection with it in your
own interest and in the interest of the country—to keep this great
wonder of nature as it now is. I was delighted to learn of the wisdom
of the Santa Fe railroad people in deciding not to build their hotel
on the brink of the canyon. I hope you will not have a building of
any kind, not a summer cottage, a hotel, or anything else, to mar the
wonderful grandeur, the sublimity, the great loneliness and beauty of
the canyon. Leave it as it is. You can not improve on it. The ages
have been at work on it, and man can only mar it. What you can do is
to keep it for your children, your children’s children, and for all
who come after you, as one of the great sights which every American
if he can travel at all should see. We have gotten past the stage,
my fellow-citizens, when we are to be pardoned if we treat any part
of our country as something to be skinned for two or three years for
the use of the present generation, whether it is the forest, the
water, the scenery. Whatever it is, handle it so that your children’s
children will get the benefit of it. If you deal with irrigation,
apply it under circumstances that will make it of benefit, not to
the speculator who hopes to get profit out of it for two or three
years, but handle it so that it will be of use to the home-maker, to
the man who comes to live here, and to have his children stay after
him. Keep the forests in the same way. Preserve the forests by use;
preserve them for the ranchman and the stockman, for the people of the
Territory, for the people of the region round about. Preserve them for
that use, but use them so that they will not be squandered, that they
will not be wasted, so that they will be of benefit to the Arizona of
1953 as well as the Arizona of 1903.
To the Indians here I want to say a word of welcome. In my regiment I
had a good many Indians. They were good enough to fight and to die,
and they are good enough to have me treat them exactly as squarely as
any white man. There are many problems in connection with them. We
must save them from corruption and from brutality; and I regret to say
that at times we must save them from unregulated Eastern philanthropy.
All I ask is a square deal for every man. Give him a fair chance. Do
not let him wrong any one, and do not let him be wronged.
I believe in you. I am glad to see you. I wish you well with all my
heart, and I know that your future will justify all the hopes we have.