NEWS: Altoona - 60th Anniversary, 1856-1916, Poem by John H. Chatham, Blair 
County, PA

Contributed for use in the USGenWeb Archives by Ruth Curfman   
<rcurfman@chartermi.net>

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___________________________________________________________

                             The Altoona Tribune
                            Altoona, Pennsylvania
                      Saturday morning, January 15, 1916
                           Sixtieth Anniversary Issue
                                 1856 - 1916

                          Sixtieth Anniversary Poem
                             by John H. Chatham

                   Written for the Altoona Tribune Banquet, 
                              January 15, 1916

From her dark glens, where wood-nymphs play,
The blue Juniata springs forth on her way,
Leaping down the steep stairs of her halls,
Where closer she climbs her green valley's walls.

And where the valley in sunlight shines
As glint and flush on harvest and vines,
Resplendent for more than others - this 	
Where its last "Good Nights" the sunsets kiss.

Where the loveliness of valley ends,
Altoona's wealth of beauty lends
To pictured landscape's touch divine,
Her all of art, for yours and mine.

Here, massive iron hammers wing,
And buzzing saws continuous sing,
While from the heat of its thousand fires
Is shaped the engine, boilers, rims and tires.

Whatsoever of art, or craft, or trade,
In any country can be made,
Altoona justly takes the stand -
Her work's, the peer of any land.

Here, while yet the borough was young,
The Tribune's life had just begun,
And in honor of that cherished day
We meet tonight, respect to pay.

Back sixty years tonight, we linger, -
The mute hands, tell that silent chime
Where we turn the pointing-fingers,
On the dim dial plate of time.

Altoona Tribune first tried the sea
- Her noble mission then to fill
Here, with no better guarantee,
Than man's endeavor, thought and skill.

Out, where buoys pointed the way -
Paved with bar and rock and shoal
To trackless sea, her pathway lay -
And thitherward her coveted goal.

We see her slowly moving out
To the channel well defined;
With every sail rigging set
And the world's God Speed! - behind.

There Mother ocean took to breast,
The latest earth born, worthy child, 
She cradled it on her highest crest,
And washed the babe, - and smiled.

Saluting and saluted now
By every craft the ocean bore,
At every port she showed her bow; 
The world was free! She asked no more.

And never yet has she anchor cast
On her voyage upon the main,
For her's is a cruise to the last,
E'er she hang on her home dock chain.

E'en now, she's not standing in wait
The Captain, Mate and trusty corps,
Have taken a lighter and rowed ashore
While the ship's discharging her freight.

Good luck for the old ship's cruise -
May she never lose patron or friend:
Success to her Captains and crews
With blessing for all to attend.

This is the toast we give our host,
Altoona Tribune - Schwartz - Houck - beacons bright,
May she be in the Noon of her June
Just sixty more years from tonight.
 
                                    ~~~*~~~