National Geographic : 1965 Nov
BY NATIONAL GEOGRAPHICPHOTOGRAPHERBRUCE DALE baseball, football, tennis, soccer, Rugby even cricket. Parents cover as much of the zoo's 83 acres as they can (page 639), their children begging to watch the lion tamer stick his head between the lion's jaws. He does, too, all through the summer (with Thursdays and Saturdays off). People linger at the spring flower show in the steel-and-glass conservatory known as the Jewel Box, and see white and red azaleas, snapdragons, marigolds, bougainvillea, cine raria. They forget that February waits beyond the door and snow is falling. They roam the City Art Museum, which ranks among the finest in the land. And for 13 summer weeks, up to 12,000 of them night ly attend the seven-acre open-air Municipal Opera. The 47th annual season opened last June with a musical entitled, appropriately enough, Meet Me in St. Louis. The Missouri Historical Society's evocative displays also lure people in droves. There I pored over the thousand and one gifts a grate ful world sent Lindbergh after he flew across the Atlantic, and I particularly liked the River Room, with its gingerbread-trimmed pilot house from the sunken packet Golden Eagle. The river and the stars... with them St. Louis begins and ends. Walking along the old levee, I watched the gathering dusk soften the sullen Mississippi, highway to America, and give it sweetness. Towering overhead, the Gateway Arch pointed as much to tomorrow as to the past. THE END 641 N.G.S.