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National Geographic : 1964 Oct
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Forty-eight statejourney leaves a turbanedyoung visitor from India "feeling that America is a home with a door always open to the rest of the world" A Sikh Discovers America By JOGINDER SINGH REKHI Photographsby the author I HAD SEEN PLENTY of strange and marvelous things in America, but I was not expecting any uncommon finding when I stopped one day on Wilshire Boulevard in Los Angeles to watch a new 10-story building going up. The reinforced-concrete structure stood there naked and bare-ribbed, like an unplanked ship taking form on the ways. A man leaned against the guard fence, jotting notes and making sketches on a drawing pad. "Do you work for the builder?" I asked. The man stared at my turban and beard and silver bracelet. I introduced myself as a visitor from India. Then he replied,"No, I represent a firm that collects information about new buildings-how they are put together." "For what purpose?" I asked. "When it's time to wreck a building-this one, for instance-we can offer a lower bid for demolishing it if we know exactly how it was built." "Is this a big business?" I asked. "Well, our firm alone has blueprints and construction notes on about 3,000 structures all over the United States. Every year some are torn down." As a Sikh from India making a slow tour of the United States, I was always seeing the newness of America and how fast this country grows. But this was a blinding impression of quick change-this odd business that plans how to wreck a building before it is even built. My heritage was from another world-that of Burma, where I was born, and of India, where I was educated. My father, Dr. Nand Singh Rekhi, is a surgeon and physician. In India I helped found a family export-import business. I also ran an art shop in New Delhi, selling Indian paintings, ceramics, and decorative ware of brass and copper. I had many American I came to America to write a book about Lincoln. To do so, I found I must know more about his land and his people. To find out what Americans are like, I shared their food, shelter, joys, and sorrows. In the heart of Washington, the only city other than Springfield that Lincoln called home, his memory is enshrined in the Lincoln Memo rial. I surprised these high school students on a graduation tour; I knew more about Lincoln than they did. Their teacher asked me to give a little talk about this great man. KODACHROMEBY NATIONAL GEOGRAPHICPHOTOGRAPHERJOHN E. FLETCHER© N.G.S. 558
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