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Source: Weekly Tallahasseean
Source type: newspaper
Document type: article
Document title: “Florida Day”
Author(s): Clark, E. Warren
City of publication: Tallahassee, Florida
Date of publication: 20 September 1901
Volume number: 21
Issue number: 30
Pagination: [2]

Clark, E. Warren. “Florida Day.” Weekly Tallahasseean 20 Sept. 1901 v21n30: p. [2].
Pan-American Exposition (Florida Day); William Sherman Jennings; Thomas M. Wier; McKinley assassination (personal response); E. Warren Clark; Pan-American Exposition (impact of assassination); William McKinley (death: public response: Buffalo, NY); Temple of Music.
Named persons
William I. Buchanan [middle initial wrong below]; Leon Czolgosz; Sherman Bryan Jennings; William Sherman Jennings; William McKinley; John C. Trice; Thomas M. Wier [misspelled below].
The following excerpt comprises three nonconsecutive portions of this article. Omission of text within the excerpt is indicated with a bracketed indicator (e.g., [omit]).

The fourth paragraph (beginning “Something of a sensation...”) is reproduced below as given in the original source: it both omits text and includes duplicate text. Also as in the original source, the twelfth paragraph below (beginning “Only from the great Temple...”) lacks an opening parenthesis.

“E. Warren Clark Describes the Event and the Exposition Attractions” (article subhead).


Florida Day [excerpt]

An address of welcome was given with much cordiality by Director-General William E. Buchanan. [H]e welcomed the Governor of Flor[id]a with special interest, he said, as one among the first of the State executives to personally pay a visit of sympathy to the wounded President.
     Governor Jennings responded in an address of muc[h] feeling, and [th]en presented the best array of facts and agricultural statistics concerning the [St]ate of Florida to which we ever [li]stened. It was a strong paper, an[d] a universal desire prevailed for its publication and [di]strubution [sic]. As the Governor stood on the little platform, under the beautiful drapery of the Illinois Building, with the members of his staff around him it presented a very graceful picture.
     Seated at the end of the sofa was little Bryan Jennings, who applauded his father’s closing eulogy of McKinley as heartily as any of the en[th]usiastic sons of Ohio and Illinois.


     Something of a sensation was created by Mr. T. M. Weir, Florida Commissioner, declaring in his closing address that if the President’s assassin had attempted his deed in Florida, he would not have known the next morn- of the earth” [sic] so quick [th]at people would not have known t[h]e next morning what he had for breakfast, what his pedigree was, or even ha[d] time to spell his name (Czolgosz).


     P. S.—Dear Friend Trice: This very meagre sketch of “Florida Day” exercises is written under difficulties.
     It is now the morning (Saturday) of the announcement of the deat[h] of th[e] President. I am seated alone on th[e] terrace of the great esplanade, facin[g] the electric tower, the mammot[h] buildings and the most beautiful wate[r] way of fountain jets and statuary i[n] the world.
     The now famed “Temple of Music[”] is within twenty-five feet o[f] me as [I?] write, w[hi]le two American Indian[s] (real ones) sit on the steps and I a[m] scribbling on the arm of a bench.
     From where I now sit I can look i[n] through the window to the very spo[t] where the President was shot. (H[e] stood on the main floor, just to th[e] right of the organ.)
     But what a transformation scen[e] from yesterday  *  *  *  Last night I sa[w] 50,000 or 75,000 people passing like [a?] flowing tide through this great cour[t?] of honor and magnifcense [sic]. To-day [I?] scarcely see one. Even the expos[it]io[n] guards are gone or invisible.
     The lights are out, the fountains ar[e] stopped, and the scene is that of d[e]serted magnificence.
     Where the hum of tens of thousand[s] of voices was heard yesterday, silen[ce] now reigns supreme. Even the flags on the apparently neglecte[d] [b]uildings droop and flutter at half-mast.
     On[l]y from the great Temple of M[u]sic does any sound come. The buildi[ng] itself is a poem in architecture an[d] from the great organ within there no[w] comes the solemn strains of almost [a] funeral dirge. The notes of the orga[n], now [p]laying, were [th]e last heard [by] President McKinley until he hims[e]lf repeated the lines of the hymn last night, “Nearer, My God, to Thee.” He was shot standing near the organ.)
     As I conclude, a full regiment [o]f sol[di]ers just passed me, powerless [in?] their strength, and I will follow the[m] now to where the dea[d] President [lies?].



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