The end of the New Zealand and South Seas Exhibition, 1925-26, has come at last. During the past five and a-half months the great enterprise has gained such a place in the lives of the people that many have come unconsciously to accept it as a permanent part of their existence. It was only a week ago that they suddenly awoke to the realisation that the inevitable end was at hand. Then they began to crowd down with renewed eagerness in their tens of thousands till the great climax was reached on Saturday. If the weather for the opening of the Exhibition on November 17 was as propitious as it well could be, the conditions for the closing on Saturday could hardly have been worse. Rain fell heavily the night before and all Saturday a steady drizzle saturated the air and turned the paths of Logan Park into chains of muddy pools. But what matter? The success of the Exhibition was long ago placed beyond any doubt, and no rain could deter the people from paying their last tribute to the great achievement in which they, too, have had their part.
There is always a certain pathos about last things, and numbers of visitors could not quite escape the thought that never again would they have the opportunity of looking upon the multitudes of strange, interesting, instructive, and beautiful things that have been gathered together in the Exhibition. Nevertheless, a cheerful gaiety was the predominant feeling, for had not the Exhibition — their Exhibition — been a record-breaking success? The Prime Minister, at the closing ceremony in the Festival Hall, did not hesitate to refer to it as ‘‘One of the most successful Exhibitions known in the history of man.’’ Full details and figures have yet to come, but Mr Coates, in saying so, undoubtedly expressed the prevailing opinion. There was, therefore, a feeling of proud achievement in the air, and the throngs that wandered through the courts and grounds ceaselessly from early till late were not burdened with any gloomy regrets over the passing of the big show. They were there to get their full measure of enjoyment out of the last day.
The official closing ceremony, which took place in the Festival Hall in the afternoon, was, as Mr Sutherland Ross happily expressed it, ‘‘as brief as is compatible with dignity.’’ It was marked by three good and fitting speeches from Mr Ross, the Mayor, and the Prime Minister, and at the close the great audience gave another demonstration of its affection for the Argyll and Sutherland Band and its music.
All that the Exhibition means to the community and to the Dominion only the passage of the years will disclose. But this at least may be said: ‘‘What an Exhibition may reasonably be expected to accomplish for good it has accomplished and will continue to accomplish. The Main Highway and Logan Park reclaimed and beautiful are two of its most notable permanent memorials.
It has brought, as one speaker said, to young and old, a new conception of the vast resources of our Empire and the history and traditions of our race.’’ Moreover, it has made us known, and favourably known, if not to the world, then at least to many parts of it that were hitherto quite unaware of our developments and resources. Many will much regret the closing of the Exhibition
and keenly miss it, but the end is not really a cause for regret, for the enterprise has served well and truly the purpose for which it was conceived. – ODT, 3.5.1926
