THE PEOPLE: Christmas, 1947

Trains were crowded, but washroom spittoons were polished like gold again, and porters waved their whisk brooms politely over departing passengers. The country which rushed by outside the windows had an amazing look of vigor and opulence; new automobiles gleamed on highways, new houses stood expensively in muddy yards. At dusk the homing passenger could glimpse the never-ending glimmer of colored Christmas lights in streets, stores and farmhouses. From the air, the U.S. seemed even richer; there was a look of treasure in the jeweled electric glitter of its cities seen by...

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