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Did you fight?
- I'm sorry? - Were you a soldier? Did you fight?
Yeah, yeah, I did.
- Were you scared? - Gaston! That's not polite.
Yeah, yeah, I was scared. I guess most soldiers are.
My father wasn't scared. He was brave. He got a medal.
Look!
It's great.
- Did you get a medal? - Yeah, I did.
Can I see it?
I don't have it on me right now.
One day, I'm going to have a medal of my own.
Really?
When the next war comes.
What if another war doesn't come?
Don't be silly! Of course there'll be a next war.
- Who will you fight? - The Germans, of course!
I demand to see an official. This is totally exasperating.
No! I am sorry.
Oh, goodness. Amy, we must find someone who can speak...
- Excuse me, ma'am, can I help? - He doesn't speak English.
I'm sorry, ma'am. He apologizes for the misunderstanding,
but your baggage will be sent to your cabin.
I'm gratified to hear it. I'm obliged to you, young man.
Thank you.
Sure.
Now, here you go. Thank you, thank you. Come along, Amy.
American women. They're impossible, no?
Hello.
Yes?
Excuse me.
Let's hope we're all quiet sleepers.
- Hi. - Good afternoon, Mr...
- Jones, Henry Jones. - Yes, Mr. Jones, what can I do for you?
I was wondering about dinner.
You are down for the second sitting.
Perfect. Now, about the seating arrangements...
But of course, Mr. Jones.
Hello.
Oh, this is something of a surprise, Mr. Jones.
A pleasant one, I hope, Mrs. Wharton.
Very pleasant.
A wonderful coincidence, I guess.
And how long was your stay in Paris, Mr. Jones?
Just a couple of months, ma'am.
I was with the American delegation during the peace treaty negotiations.
Perhaps you know my husband, Mr. Thomas Wharton?
He is First Secretary at our embassy.
No, ma'am. I was just a translator. Actually, I was there for three years.
- You were in the war. - In the war for three years.
I imagine your parents will be most relieved at your return.
Well, my mother passed away,
and my father, he's pretty involved with his work.
What sort of work would that be?
He's a professor of medieval studies at Princeton.
Well, I do not doubt he will be happy to see you.
Happy? I'm sure he'll be tickled to death.
Good game.
Why would your father be angry with you?
- First, for the way I left home. - He didn't approve?
He really didn't get a chance. I just sort of left without telling him.
And we haven't really communicated. He did write to me once, though.
Telling you to never darken his doorstep again.
No.
He said it was up to me about what school I went to.
- Well, that doesn't sound so bad. - Let's hope he still means it.
I'd like to go to the University of Chicago and study archaeology,
instead of Princeton.
I'm going to Vassar to study medicine. I plan to be a doctor.
Really? That's great.
And don't worry.
I'm sure that deep, deep down, your father hasn't changed one bit.
That's what I'm afraid of.
Isn't it beautiful?
No, Indy, please don't.
- What's wrong? - I don't know.
I don't want to fall in love with you.
- Why not? - I'm not sure.
Are you scared?
Yes, I think so.
But why shouldn't I go on seeing him, Mother?
What's wrong with him?
To begin with, I'm not at all sure your father would approve.
Oh, nonsense, Mother. Daddy would love Indy. I know he would.
Indy. What sort of name is that?
It's short for Indiana. And you haven't answered my question.
Amy, this young man has just been through a war.
Now I realize that may seem glamorous to you...
He fought in a war to end all wars. He fought for the right reasons.
War can do terrible things to a person.
Especially when he's young and impressionable.
Drat!
Who knows what dreadful things he has seen, or even done?
I know that, Mother. I'm not a child.
Maybe not, but you still have your whole life in front of you.
My dear, I just don't want to see you make a terrible mistake.
One you'll live to regret.
But I like him, Mother. I really, really like him.
I'm gonna come and visit you every week, I promise.
Well, then I'll come to Princeton, and that's a promise, too.
And we are going to keep our promises, aren't we?
Yeah.
Yeah, we're gonna make this work.
We're home.
Yeah.
We're home.
So next Sunday, Central Park bandstand.
- I'll be there. - Okay.
- Bye. - Bye-bye.
Welcome to Princeton. Watch your step now.
- There you go. - Thanks very much, sir.
Sure. Why not?
Maybe later we'll get to do a little spooning, know what I mean?
Are you saying you've asked Annie and Mabel?
Well, you know what they say, fellas.
"Two birds in the bushes are worth one in the hand."
Golly, Charlie, you sure are something.
Nancy?
Indy! Oh, my gosh, this is wonderful. Oh, it's so great to see you.
- It's good to see you, too. - Well, when did you get back?
- Just now. - What?
Oh, you should've told us.
We would've met you with the band and everything.
Given you a real hero's welcome.
I don't know if I'd care for that too much.
- So how are you? - Fine, just fine. We've been...
Say hello...
To little Butch.
Say hi to Indy, Mommy's high school beau.
You married Butch?
Nearly two years ago.
- So how's your father... - How's your dad...
- My dad's fine. How's yours? - I don't know, I haven't seen him yet.
I haven't seen anyone. You're the first.
- Well, be sure and come and see us. - Yeah, sure, I will.
Okay. Bye, Indy.
It's really great to have you back.
Well, I see you're back from your little adventure.
Your room is as you left it.
- And, Junior? - Yes, sir?
Dinner is at 7:30.
Sharp.
I see nothing's changed.
It's good to be home.
- Ready for a boat ride? - Yes.
Was it really that bad?
It was worse. It was like I never even left.
So what will you do?
Well, there's a physics professor at Clark University.
He used to be at Princeton, so he's spending his summer there.
I got a job as his lab assistant.
I can make some extra money for school.
And, I don't know, at least it will get me out of the house.
Won't your dad help? With school? I mean...
He got me the job. That's his idea of helping, I guess.
Well, have you told him about Chicago yet?
No.
Indy, you have to tell him sometime.
Well, I start my new job tomorrow,
so I guess I'll see you next week.
Okay.
Well, goodbye.
Indy,
you really should speak with your father.
How do you talk to a stone?
Bye.
Goodbye.
Amy?
I'm not at all pleased.
You will oblige me by not seeing that young man again.
Why?
We weren't doing anything.
One of the Rockefeller boys called on you again today.
This boy from New Jersey is just not suitable.
Not suitable?
For heaven's sakes, Mother! This is not the 19th century.
I'm sorry. I've made up my mind.
Whatever you say, I'll still see him.
- You will not. - I will.
Professor Goddard?
I don't think so. That's the prof.
Don't disturb him. He doesn't like it.
- You're Henry Jones? - Yes, sir.
Great. The job's all yours.
Where do I start?
Just remember, he doesn't like to be disturbed.
Jonesey! Hey!
Jonesey!
Hey, buddy! Where you spring from?
- Last I heard, you was in the war. - Well I was, I just got back.
So, what are you doing here?
I'm singing at Rutgers Glee Club. We're giving a concert tonight.
Come hear us.
I can't.
My father, he's expecting me. If I don't give him notice...
Still keeping you on a pretty tight rein, huh?
- Yeah. - Some things don't change.
Say, how about we get together next week some time?
That's great. Yeah, we'll make a night of it.
We'll get something to eat.
Oh, you know a place in Princeton where a white boy and a black boy
can grab a beer and get something to eat?
- Trust me. - That's my trouble, Jonesey.
I always did.
- It's good seeing you. - You, too.
- Sorry I'm late. - When I said dinner was at 7:30,
I did not mean 7:52.
I'm sorry. It'll never happen again.
Guess who I saw on campus today on the quad? Paul Robeson.
Little Paul? Whom you used to hang around with?
He's not so little anymore. You know, he just made all-American.
- At Princeton? - No, no. At Rutgers.
He was just visiting from the Glee Club.
Still, there's no question
that Princeton's the right school for you, Henry.
Listen, Dad...
I've already spoken to Dean Daly in Admissions.
- Hello? - Amy, it's Indy.
Oh, Indy. Hi.
So, how's your new job?
Oh, pretty good.
Listen, about Saturday,
would you mind if I bring an old friend of mine along?
He's one of my best friends, we grew up together
and I kind of promised him we'd get together.
- Of course it is. - You'll really like him.
He's at Rutgers, terrific footballer, all-American.
I'm sure that I will. I can't wait.
See you Saturday.
Okay, bye.
- All finished. - Good.
Same time tomorrow, then.
Professor Goddard.
These altitude calculations,
aren't they a bit extreme? I mean, 100,000 miles. That's pretty far.
What do you know about altitude calculations?
Well, not a whole lot, but... In the war I was a flier for a time, so...
You flew in the war?
- Did you ever get to use rockets? - For signaling? No, not really.
Never mind.
But I've always been interested in rockets,
ever since I read Jules Verne as a kid.
Do you know From The Earth To The Moon?
Indeed I do.
What about H. G. Wells? Do you like his works, too?
Oh, he's fantastic!
I love The Time Machine. And War of the Worlds, that was great.
Me, too. In fact, it was reading H. G. Wells
that first got me started on this.
Is that what you're working on? Rockets for signaling?
Rockets, yes. Signaling, no.
Come with me.
- How does it work? - How long have you got?
See, the problem with ordinary rockets,
the kind that people know about, is that they're inefficient.
They can rise, but not very far.
Because the fuel it carries is only a small fraction of the rocket's total mass.
Exactly. But this rocket is 30 times more efficient.
- How do you achieve that? - Well, in three crucial ways.
The first is by using this tapering nozzle so that the thrust is concentrated.
The second is by including a reloading device
inside the rocket, so that the fuel is used up only a little bit at a time.
Still, you're gonna need an awful lot of powder.
You don't have to use powder.
A mixture of liquid oxygen and kerosene works much better.
- Liquid fuel? - Right.
- Well, how do you retrieve it? - Simple, by fitting it with a parachute.
Still, it's gonna burn out pretty quick.
True, which brings us to the third device.
You see, if this one works we'll build another one,
with three rockets fitted together, in stages, or steps, if you like.
So when one is used up,
it drops away, and another one begins firing,
and then another and another, and so on.
- So the sky's the limit. - Why stop at the sky?
- Why not go on beyond? - Beyond the sky?
Into space?
- Is that possible? - There's no law in physics against it,
therefore one day it'll happen, and I believe that day is very soon.
We're on the verge of a very great change.
Space travel, it's...
It's always been such a joke.
Every vision is a joke until the first man accomplishes it.
Do you think it'll work?
That's what we're gonna find out.
Sorry, Dad. I got tied up at the lab with Professor Goddard.
- It was really interesting. - Enough.
I'm really sorry I'm late.
- I guess I'll go make myself a sandwich. - No, you won't.
You chose to miss dinner, therefore, you will go without.
Is there anything interesting in the paper?
Not much. President Wilson is sick again.
I heard him speak in Paris. I really felt sorry for him.
No doubt he was deeply touched by your concern.
The Treaty was just such a disaster, I... I think it broke him.
Nonsense.
The Treaty of Versailles is merely the latest settlement
in the traditional European nation-state conflict.
If you'd studied more history, you'd know that.
- I disagree. - You disagree?
You think this bizarre idea of a League of Nations can ever work?
I'll tell you it's a fantasy. Congress will never vote for it.
Junior, the nation-state grew out of the city-state,
which realized itself through conquest and expanded through colonization.
Think of Athens, think of Sparta. The logical result was empire.
Think of Alexander, think of Rome. Now, what just happened in Europe
was that the German Empire attempted to expand.
It wanted territory, colonies.
And the only way to get them was through conquest.
As a result, the Russian Empire, the British Empire
and the French Republic, which is an empire in all but name,
combined to crush it.
Russia fell, but Britain and France, with timely American assistance,
smashed Germany and restored the balance of imperial power.
Now that is why Lloyd George and Clemenceau
are statesmen in the grand tradition.
And Woodrow Wilson is an impractical dreamer.
That is the historical reality, Junior. It'll never change.
We gave them victory and they threw it away.
We offered them a new world, and they're building the old one
- all over again. - Sentimental rubbish.
Consider the position of France and England
- at the end of the Hundred Years' War. - It's different now.
Wars aren't fought by knights in armor,
who go back to their castles when it's over.
There's machine guns and airplanes and high explosives and tanks.
The weapons may have altered, not the historical perspective.
No, Father, you're wrong.
There's a real change coming. I know it, I've seen it.
Soon there'll be things you've never dreamed of.
Oh, really? You're an expert, then, are you?
- I decline to continue this conversation. - What?
Be silent.
- No, but Father, we have... - Do you hear?
I said, be silent.
You're just mad 'cause I left for the war without discussing it with you.
That subject is closed.
It's true. Why can't you admit
- you're still mad at me? - Junior!
And you're gonna go on being mad at me, aren't you?
- You're never gonna let it go. - Henry, for the very last time...
No, no. You'll never change, will you?
You can't, you never could. Not even when Mother was alive.
- How dare you... - Not even...
How dare you mention your mother to me!
Don't even let me hear you speak of her again.
Why shouldn't I?
You never did one thing to make her happy.
And now you're taking it all out on me.
Why, you ignorant, ungrateful, unfeeling,
- young... - Unfeeling?
I'm unfeeling? No, no, you're the one that's unfeeling.
You never gave a thought for anyone but yourself.
You're the one that could never admit to being wrong.
You shirked every duty, dodged every problem...
Fine, well, at least I admitted it.
- Why can't you? - Took the easy way out.
- Ran away every time. - Go on!
Go on, just for once in your life, admit that you were wrong.
- Go to your room. - No.
No, Father, I'm not 10 years old anymore.
You do as I say, Son.
This instant.
Go to your room.
But Jonesey, you can't just write your father off.
- You've got to resolve this thing first. - Indy!
Amy!
- You made it. - I did, and in spite of my mom.
Amy, this is Paul.
My friend. I told you about him.
Except he didn't tell you that I was a ***.
- Right? - No, no, he didn't.
Which is fine, it's okay.
I'm happy to know you, Paul.
Okay, so where do we eat?
- We're gonna go... - We plan to eat?
Indy, that could be a problem.
No, it's no problem. I got it all figured out. Come on.
- Here you are, that'll be 10 cents. - Thanks.
- Everything on it? - You bet!
Hello. Three with all the trimmings, please.
Coming up.
I missed these.
You don't see these in France, huh, Indy?
Since when did you start serving ***?
- Hey, look, mister... - You heard me.
- Hey, I don't want no trouble. - Hey, hey, hey.
- Listen, friend, we just... - Hey, hey.
I ain't no friend to no guy eats with ***.
Well then, maybe you should go eat somewhere else.
Unless you wanna make something of it.
Wait for me, wait for me, Sarah.
Those were the times!
My father had me washing windows for a month.
What else is new?
Well, he can't be worse than my mother.
I mean, all she wants from me is to marry someone
from the Upper East Side,
live happily ever after and... And have babies.
I mean, and as for being a doctor,
she doesn't even think that women should vote.
My father's still stuck in the Dark Ages. It's like time just stopped for him.
It's like all of those politicians in Europe.
They continue their long-honored cycle of wars. It's...
- I wonder if it'll ever change. - Politicians never change.
You know, in some ways, things haven't changed since the Civil War.
I don't just mean for colored people. I mean for the ordinary man.
I mean, look around. What do you see? Wage slavery, exploitation,
I mean, it's everywhere. Can't go on like this.
But it does.
You know, change is painful. People will do anything to prevent pain.
It's because it's unfamiliar to them. I mean, it's not safe.
They have this fear of the unknown.
Can't wait for our parents to change. It's got to be up to us.
Maybe I should put that in my speech.
What speech?
Saturday is Commencement Day. I'm valedictorian.
You're valedictorian? That's terrific!
- Congratulations! - You wanna come?
You try and keep us away.
Paul.
Amy, head home.
- But Indy, I... - No, please, just...
- Head home. We'll meet you there. - Okay.
Oh, I smell something bad!
Hey, Joe, do you smell something bad?
- Yeah. - Yeah, ***.
Just like the old days.
- What happened to you? - I got in a fight.
I can see that.
What was it about?
I guess you could say I was trying to help some people
change their social patterns, only they didn't want to.
- Did you win? - The fight? Yeah.
Not so sure about the social patterns.
Some people are pretty stubborn.
Don't worry, history's on your side.
That's not what my father would say.
I'm talking about the progression of science, technology, this.
And no matter how much people try to resist,
technology will force them to change.
Think how vast the world used to be, and how small it's become.
Imagine how much smaller yet it will become.
I mean, air travel will make it possible to go around the world
in a matter of hours.
Radio and telephone, you can talk to anybody, anyplace, at any time.
Nations that used to be on the other side of the globe
are now next-door neighbors, economically and socially linked.
What if they don't get along?
Oh, they'll have to. Technology will make them.
Well, suppose they fight.
They won't dare to. The weapons will be too horrible.
And they'll find new ways to cooperate.
Because if they fight, they'll destroy each other.
The future's here.
This is it. It's a fact.
The pace is gonna get quicker.
Old methods of thought will be discarded.
Old habits will change.
And no matter how much mankind tries to resist,
in the end,
there's no choice.
Well, that may work for mankind,
but I'm not so sure about my father.
He hasn't said anything?
Not a word. It's as if I don't even exist.
Poor man!
- Poor man? - Sure.
Can't you see how lonely he is?
How sad he must be feeling?
- My father doesn't have feelings. - Oh, Indy, I don't think so.
No. You're wrong.
He's not like other fathers. He never has been.
Even when I was kid, we never talked.
We never laughed, we never played.
We never did anything fathers are supposed to do with their sons.
You have to make up with him.
Father, there's something I'd like to say.
I'd like to apologize. About the other night.
The things I said, the way I acted, I was way out of line.
And I'm sorry.
I guess that's it.
We'll not discuss it further.
Yes, we will. Yes, we will. We have to.
We can't just pretend that this never happened.
You have apologized. I have accepted your apology.
What more is there to say?
A lot more.
A whole lot more. Don't you see? We never talk.
We're more like strangers than father and son.
Like strangers?
You and I are like strangers?
It's because we're never close. We're never together. We...
We never have been.
Except maybe that time in Athens. But that...
In Athens?
When we went to see the monasteries, just... Just the two of us.
Oh, yes.
We'd gone to Greece, if I remember, straight after our visit to Russia.
And we got stuck in the monastery's wooden lift.
That's right.
That was the best time I ever had with you.
When we finally escaped up the rope, I remember you picked me up,
and you just held me really tight.
It was the only time I can ever remember you actually hugged me.
And it felt great.
For a while there, just...
Just for that moment...
You really were my dad.
- You ready, Indy? - Yeah.
Start the countdown.
Five, four, three, two...
This is the future, Indy. And it's here.
- Well, good luck, Paul. - Thanks.
- I'm gonna need it. - You'll be great.
I sure hope so.
Because I've never been so nervous in my whole life.
Your seats are in the front row.
- Mr. Robeson, it's very good to see you. - Good to see you, Indy.
- This is Paul's father. - Hello.
- Paul's aunt. - Hi.
- Hello. - And Paul's cousin.
- Hi. - It's a pleasure to meet you.
Ladies and gentlemen, our class valedictorian, Paul Robeson.
Thank you.
Ladies and gentlemen, and fellow students,
this nation has just emerged from a Great War
in which she has proven true to her trust.
Her soldiers have fought and died, to preserve those
historic ideals of liberty and justice by which America was founded.
And those ideals have prevailed.
Yet America is still a nation of two races,
one favored and one less-favored.
And so I speak to you today
of a new idealism,
and I invoke its spirit in the days of change that lie ahead.
We of the less-favored race realize that our future
lies chiefly in our own hands.
On ourselves alone will depend the preservation of those liberties
and the transmission of them to those who shall come after us.
And we are struggling on,
attempting to show that knowledge can be obtained under difficulties,
that poverty may make way for affluence,
that obscurity is not an absolute bar to distinction,
and that a way is open to all who wish to follow the way with wisdom
and resolution. That neither old-time slavery
nor continued prejudice
need extinguish self-respect, crush manly ambition,
or paralyze effort.
I call upon my own race to practice the virtues of self-reliance,
self-respect, industry, and perseverance.
But I also call upon you, the more-favored race,
to catch a new idealism, to invoke a new spirit of compassion
at the manifest distress of your fellow men.
This new idealism
asks more from you than courtesy and fair-mindedness.
It also asks for your willingness to fight for the great principle,
that there will be equal opportunities for all.
And so, in conclusion,
I appeal to all of you
to fight for a government
whereby character shall be the standard of excellence,
where white and black shall clasp hands friendly,
in full consciousness that we are brothers,
and God almighty is the Father of us all.
So, Jonesey, you secure a place at Princeton?
No, University of Chicago. I'm gonna study archaeology.
A doctor, lawyer and an archaeologist. Not bad for a start.
A doctor, lawyer and an archaeologist. Not bad for a start.
Well, we'd better get going. She's got a train to catch.
Yes.
- Thanks for coming. - Paul, it was a privilege.
You take care of yourself, Jonesey.
I will.
It was a great speech, Paul. It was a really great speech.
You think they heard?
They heard.
- And they'll remember. - God willing.
- Take care of yourself. - Sure will. Do the same.
- All aboard! - Well, good luck at medical school.
So, what about us?
Well, Chicago's an awfully long way away.
I'll come and visit you every week.
No, you won't. And you know that.
I'll write to you, I will. I'll write to you every day.
You're right, I won't.
I will still love you.
I'll still love you, too.
And I really do hope that you get everything that you want.
Goodbye, Indy.
Father, I'm sorry we haven't talked more.
So am I, Henry.
Because...
I know it's what your mother would have liked.
And I know, too, that
she'd have wanted me to say,
I'm glad you're safe.
- You're going somewhere. - University of Chicago.
- Chicago? - To study archaeology.
What about Princeton?
The archaeology department's better at Chicago.
And you said I could decide. You wrote me.
That was a long time ago.
- Yes, but Father... - Very well.
If that's what you want.
Dad...
Close the door behind you when you leave, Junior.