There is a hill-crowned city by a silver sea, near a Golden Gate. For
ages the water has washed from an almost land-locked bay against this
hill-crowned city, and on its northern side has created of the shore an
amphitheatre stretching for some three miles to the western headlands.
Behind this amphitheatre rises, in terraces, the steep hills of this
water-lashed city, and in part, a forest of pines stretches to the west.
Man has flanked this reach of shore by two lowering forts, and in front,
across the sapphire sea, one looks onto the long undulations of hills,
climaxed by grand old Tamalpais.
Just three years ago and one saw in this same low-lying shore only a
marshy stretch, with lagoons working their way far into the land - the
home of the seagull.
There came a time when, had you looked closely, you would have seen
coming thru the Golden Gate a phantom flotilla of caravels, freighted
with clever ideas.
On the vessels came; at the prows were several noble figures: Energy,
Enterprise, Youth, the Spirit of the East, the Spirit of the West,
Success, and in the last caravel, the stalwart Mother of Tomorrow.
They had dug and delved with mighty Hercules and had created that great
gap that has severed two continents. Then, leaving their work to be
finished, they had sailed on to celebrate their triumph in the Land of
El Dorado, the region of their desires.
In a shallop in front of these floating winged vessels, riding on the
waves, came Venus, rowed by the fairies - in her hand the golden ball of
opportunity.
The mermaids, the dolphins, the little sea-horses sported in the wake of
these vessels, leaving a long line of foam and silver as they sped on.
Over the waves they came to the Golden Land of the Pacific. They moored
their vessels by the fort-flanked shores, and stepping out upon the
haunt of the seagull, they moved boldly across this unsightly stretch of
wave-washed land.
Enterprise and Energy pushed ahead: the Fairy ever flitting near. At a
signal from Enterprise the Fairy turned her wheel, Venus threw her
golden ball of opportunity, and lo! out of the foam of the sea rose a
Venus city with the round sea bubbles resting on the roofs.
One day a man appeared on the hilltop o'erlooking this wondrous city and
by his magic power, being filled with music, with color-music, he cast a
spell and behold a pastel city by the sea - such an one as only those
who dream could think of; a city glowing with warmth of color, with a
softness and mystical charm such as only the brain of Jules Guerin could
produce.
He is the conductor of this wondrous symphony, this beautiful Mozart
fantasia, and if you listen, you can hear the strains of the great
beautiful melodies wafted now east, now west, now north, now south,
rising to great climaxes, falling back to great chords of harmony, or,
in an allegro movement, causing you almost to trip with delight in the
joy of it all.
Your eye is enthralled with the beauty of the coloring. One sees
turquoise green domes floating in a silver-moated ether, long colonnades
of glacial ice columns leading to regions beyond, where quiet silver
pools throw back the mirrored glories.
Battalions of daffodils holding their long sabers stand in the South
Garden, making ready for the great festival. Soon those daffodils will
raise their golden trumpets and will sound the fanfare at the opening of
the Great Jubilee, and up will spring two hundred thousand wide-eyed
yellow pansies to look and wonder at the marvelous beauty and help in
the hallelujah chorus that will be one great poeon of joy - one splendid
hymn of praise.
And the blue eucalypti against the walls will lend their voices, the
yellow acacias will add their cadences; while down by the great lagoon,
ten thousand periwinkles will dance for joy.
Far out on the waters will be intoned to the rhythm of the waves a
chorus from white-robed water-lilies, who, like a throng of choristers,
will send their anthems rippling over the sun-kissed waves.
The Spirit of the East that has added its domes, its minarets, its
soft-glowing colors, will remain and join hands with the Spirit of the
West, that strong, pulsating energetic spirit, and the harmony produced
will vibrate from the shores of the Occident to the shores of the Orient
and bring about a better understanding, a great world peace.
And the world will come to listen. The great music will sound across the
waters, and the world will be the better in its way of thinking, of
working, of living - and all because of the great beauty. Wonderful is
it to be living today, to have the opportunity of watching the beginning
of this mighty growth; to be present at one of the world's greatest
events.
And the pastel city by the sea will not leave us, for, as the years go
on, whatever be our mission, the vision of this dream-city will float
before us, leading us to finer, higher works, strengthening our ideals,
and causing us to give only of our finest fiber.