The Carving of Mount Rushmore

by Rex Alan Smith

this one, too, was preceded by rain that miraculously cleared away just in time. Held on a Sunday evening, it was by far the best attended of all the Rushmore dedications—about 3,000 cars and 12,000 people—and unquestionably it was the most colorful. The precipitation in its passing had left a sky that was clear and air that was mountain-cool and smelled of rain-freshened earth and pine and stone. Low in the eastern sky there hung a fat moon just one day past full, and above the night-dark forest the gathering crowd could see the great stone faces looming moon-washed and pale against a field of stars. William S. Hart, a noted Western actor in silent films who had spent part of his boyhood in Dakota Territory, was there—having been flown from Hollywood by the famous stunt pilot Paul Mantz. Also present from Hollywood was the tenor Richard Dennis. And eighty-three-year-old Doane Robinson was there, too, wearing the same swallow-tailed coat and derby hat he had worn fifty