It might have been worse : $b a motor trip from coast to coastMassey, Beatrice Larned
General
It might have been worse : $b a motor trip from coast to coast
Massey, Beatrice Larned
Automobile travel; United States -- Description and travel
We had come 442 miles, from New York to Pittsburgh, over fine roads
and through beautiful country. Approaching Pittsburgh, we came in on
a boulevard overlooking the river and “valley of smoke.” Great stacks
were belching out soot and smoke, obliterating the city and even the
sky and sun. They may have a smoke ordinance, but no one has ever
heard of it. We arrived at the William Penn Hotel, in the heart of the
business center of the city, a first-class, fine hotel in every regard.
We found the prices reasonable for the excellent service afforded,
which was equal to that of any New York hotel. The dining-room, on the
top of the house, was filled with well-dressed people, and we were glad
that we had unpacked our dinner clothes, and appeared less like the
usual tourist, in suits and blouses. It was frightfully hot during our
two days’ stay. You go out to drive feeling clean and immaculate, and
come in with smuts and soot on your face and clothes, looking like a
foundry hand. The office buildings are magnificent, and out a bit in
the parks and boulevards the homes are attractive, and many are very
handsome, especially in Sewickley. But aside from the dirty atmosphere
one is impressed mostly by the evidences of the outlay of immense
wealth. An enthusiastic brother living there took us through a number
of the business blocks, and told us of the millions each cost and the
almost unbelievable amount of business carried on. I can only describe
Pittsburgh as the proudest city we visited. Not so much of the actual
wealth represented, but of what the billions had accomplished in great
industries. We went out in the evening and stood on one of the bridges
to look over the river lined with monster furnaces. The air was filled
with sparks, jets of flame bursting through the smoke. All you could
think of was Dante’s Inferno visualized. And what of the men who spend
their lives in that lurid atmosphere, never knowing if the sun shone,
nor what clean, pure air was like in their working hours? I shall never
look at a steel structure again without giving more credit to the men
who spend their waking hours in those hells of heat and smoke than to
the men whose millions have made it possible.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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