CALIFORNIA
The Red Cross and the Dragon.
By William Lathrop McClure.
Going to the smart new office building of the Canton Bank, passing shops filled with the weird and bizarre merchandise of the Orient, passing blouse-clad forms shuffling by on heelless boat-shaped sandals—truly, I think, this cannot be the old Chinese quarter of San Francisco. These are clean streets, these buildings are handsome, this public school is of concrete faced with bright blue tiles and filled with smiling little Chinese men and women. Sanitary? Yes, but still picturesque. Soon this ancient race will weave exotic mystery and charm about steel-girdered walls and balconies will bulge with great globular lanterns of oiled paper swinging in the wind. For some days to come Chinese ladies with “lily feet” will look down over their tulips upon the crowded street, and wish for the Good Lady Festival that they may wear their brocade and gold abroad, even as “other” women.
NEW CHINESE QUARTER. SAN FRANCISCO.
But the old order changeth. New China does not brook the “cycle of Cathay.” And here, in the Canton Bank Building, under the wing of the American National Red Cross, has grown a flourishing offshoot of the Grand Legion of the Red Cross, of the California Branch, that has, in the vernacular of the street, “made good.” For a while—a short while—it was contented to be one detachment: then it became a twin; now its membership has reached about the hundredth mark, with supporting members. We watch this changeling with surprise. It needs no nursing.
THE CHINESE RELIEF COLUMN OF THE CALIFORNIA RED CROSS.
Saturday evening, March 27, 1909, saw the hall of the Chinese Presbyterian Church so crowded that a burly policeman had the doubtful pleasure of turning away visitors of both races. Inside was filled with merchants and their families—the men on one side, the women and children on the other. The Consul, in a robe of biscuit brocade, followed by his suite, entered and aroused the interested glances of Caucasian and Oriental alike. Like flowers, bloomed from the dark blue background of the bloused and trousered women, a parterre of babies in cap and gown of purple, blue and rose. Tiny ques and tiny sandals, smiling faces, and not a whimper the long evening through.
Under the guidance and by the gracious courtesy of Donaldine Cameron, a noble friend of Chinese womanhood, a choir of Chinese young ladies sang the “Battle Hymn of the Republic.” Later the audience rose to the “Star Spangled Banner,” most beautifully rendered by Miss Wong in a clear mezzo-soprano. The program—partly interpreted by Mr. Wong, partly in Chinese—closed in a glory of flashlight, the sudden burst raising pandemonium among the baby choir, who were “velly much ’flaid.” A small dog smuggled in under the blouse of Lee Ching, a real boy, supplied the necessary bass for the tiny Celestial singers.
Organized by Dr. G. H. Richardson and the writer, the welfare of this successful detachment has been splendidly nourished by Dr. Mark Neumann, the Medical Director. From occupying the “parlors” of the Chinese Native Sons of the Golden State, its members became ambitious to have quarters of their own. Dr. Neumann donated his waiting room. On one wall hangs the Dragon and the Stars and Stripes about a Red Cross on a field of white. On another the portrait of President Taft; on the third, beautifully written in Chinese characters, the By-laws of the Legion and the Proposed Women’s Auxiliary. Often a silk-trousered Chinese lady, with polished hair ornamented by fine workmanship of jade and gold, sits before these by-laws studying them seriously, beginning at the upper right hand corner and reading downward.
THEATRE WHERE THE CHINESE HELD AN ENTERTAINMENT FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE RED CROSS.
Most remarkable will be the evolution of a Women’s Auxiliary to the Red Cross Legion; most remarkable to those best acquainted with Chinese life and character. It is an emergence from sheltered living, a setting aside of a custom scarce permitting a Chinese young lady to appear upon the street. One does not even talk to a Chinese gentleman about his household. But there is a precedent. Chinese ladies are going about the streets of the great ports of New China obeying the calls of humanity and the voice of recent ideals of social development and service. For China has a Red Cross.
A Chinese merchant rarely calls upon a male physician for his family, but an up-to-date woman physician is welcome in the families of the educated. Favorable as is one’s impression of the prosperity, intelligence and generosity of our Chinese friends; the advantages of enlightened medical knowledge and sanitary science among them in San Francisco, not to mention the vast interior of the Chinese Empire itself, cannot be overestimated.
It is one of the functions of the Red Cross to create and foster enduring friendship between nations. War is often the instrument of passion rather than equity. Whether war is eternal or not the function of the Red Cross is to be neutral and to heal. With acquaintance comes understanding. We have our superstitions regarding the Chinese; they have theirs regarding us. Beyond the Pacific the pulse of a mighty nation is quickening, and through the Golden Gate the young Chinese will soon be lured by opportunity to the Flowery Kingdom. Nor will they go as student, tourist or commercial man alone. Slow, indeed, will be the opening of the vast interior. The intelligently trained Mongolian is a great organizer and China’s metropolitan progress will be swift. Since the fire the evolution of the Chinese quarter has been marvelous. Some undesirable conditions still exist, but measuring by these only heightens the achievement of the progressive.
A YOUNG GIRL OF THE CHINESE QUARTER.
Across the Western seas New China wakes from sleep,
And hearts of exiled sons in filial answer leap;
Her sons with quickened pulse of other lands,
Shall hold the mother’s future in their hands.
We may not flatter yet that we have done our part,
We may not now forget the foes at China’s heart.
She asks our friendship now, the same she had of old,
That she may hold secure her crown of jade and gold.
Our neighbor, separate only by the restless sea,
Yet linked by ships, the birds of commerce, bold and free;
Let us not fail the higher duty, man to man,
Which lights the world and thus reveals the master plan.
Additional Notes.
The practical value of First Aid instructions as instrumental in saving life was demonstrated by Lee Wong, a member of the Chinese Detachment, First Legion, State of California, who applied continuous pressure upon the artery of a man wounded by a knife until the arrival of a physician.
Mr. Tinyut Lee, an active member of the Chinese Detachment, who made a remarkable record for the sale of Christmas and New Year stamps in the Chinese Colony, promised to excel that achievement by 800 per cent. As the colony has had no theatre since the fire rendered 23,000 Chinese homeless, this resourceful detachment hired the Oriental Theater, a clean moving-picture resort in the heart of the quarter, to swell its bank account. This benefit, with 5 cent tickets, netted $40. The Detachment has paid into the California Branch treasury $87. It is now contemplating a Red Cross Hospital, and plans are being prepared for a home nursing course for Chinese young women.
Members of the Columbia Park Boys’ Club Detachment, who did not accompany that organization to Australia, were equipped with a first-aid outfit for their summer outing at Cloverdale.
Dr. G. H. Richardson, Field Agent of the California State Branch, has completed his course of lectures to the Merchant Marine on First Aid. His important work has been highly appreciated and a movement to repeat them at many ports is advocated. This is pioneer work for the Red Cross among sailors and Dr. Richardson is to be congratulated on his faithful and disinterested service. The masters, mates and pilots of Lodge Harbor 15, before whom he has been lecturing, have placed upon record their appreciation of his efforts in their behalf.