Vashon Island news-record. [volume] (Vashon, Wash.) 1919-1954, 1932-06-30
TO WHOM 1T MAY CONCERN.

The clock is striking the hour. Ere
It's chimes have died away. the United
States OF America will have reached q
crisis In her national existence. Tc
those who sit In high places and ar
rogantly manipulate the throttles Of
Power, this editorial will be empty of
meaning To him who gloatingly
clutches his cross Of gold, while q
crown of thorns reddens the brow OF
another, these words will be but as a
fluttering leaf competing with the
might Of the gale But hear me, you
who scheme and exult--the clock is
striking the hour.
This writer is not Communist. He
has never been bound by the letters
of any particular political party. He
has scorned I oacknowledge acquaint-
anceship with the numerous Hisms'
that from time to time have been ad-
vanced rs panaceas for nation sorely
troubled He has ever been, is now
and shall continue to be--to the
utmost Of his feeble ability--a good
American. He has endeavored to In.
still into the minds of his two boys
the idea that the United States Of
America is second only to Him who
created It A thousand times anc
more, a tingling thrill Of pride has
coursed up and down his spine as thu
emblem Of his country passed in re.
view. He has stood mute as his coun.
try's Battle Fleet steamed in grin
formation on the high seas--stooe
mute, but turned aside to brush away
tears whose fountainhead he bu'
vaguely sensed. But the clock Il
striking the hour.
No longer must Greed predominant
over Need. No longer must hands thai
are willing and eager to toll for them
selves and their loved ones, wastt
away and decay from idleness. M
longer must the iron heel of thu
minority grind the PROSTATE form o
the duplicating majority. In lane
Overlooking with plenty, the man whit
is eager to toll all day for the barr
necessities of existence must be al
lowed to do so. The man who ha!
labored increasingly that he may hay'
a roof for his declining years and {
familiar bed on which to lie dow
and die, must not be turned into TIN
streets to start anew. But the clock 1
striking the hour.
America is big enough for Capita
and Labor to dwell harmoniously. I
is big enough for the High and thu
Low to clasp hands with no inter
vening barrier. But from Alaska's ic.
solitudes to the crumbling missions o
/ Old Mexico, and from Plymouth Rocl
to the splendor Of 'Frisco's Colder
Gate, America is not big enough +
offer permanent abiding place tt
Despotism and Tyranny. Try as W
will to ignore 1t, there comes tn
sound as of a vast sea Reluctantly
stirring at the behest of vague an
memorable hand. Try as We will t
be gay, our laughter but wanes to
convulsive sob. The clock is strtkin
the hour.
Almighty God, in this hour when W
are sorely troubled, hold fast our fee
in the pathway of Americanism. Kee
inviolate in our hearts and in our &C
lions those principles and those ideal
so heroically bequeathed to us by tina
dauntless little band of pilgrim
Fathers. Make US calm that we ma
know strengthened to that strength
give us preponderance of wisdom
AS our ears are assailed by the sound
of children sobbing for bread, stay tn
hand that would flash out in anger
and make us mindful Of Him who
though nailed to the Cross Of Calvary
spake with His last gasping breath
Father, Forgive Them, They Kno,
Not What They Do" Grant us on
birthright-the perpetuation of Amer
icanism, and flag unsullied by tn
communicating hand of Oppression
The clock is striking the hour.
Contributed
GOOD.