Hathaway Brown School - Specularia Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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JW New I miss the fuoiee of wtwes- the jirst That woke my childish gleeg The measured ehimeg the lfhtmdefr burst. Where is my 0 pen blue sea? FELICIA HEMANS Y LOCKING back over my life I can see how the Navy has influf enced it. The Navy's lore, the Navy's ships, and the Navy's men have all played their parts. The Navy's lore seeped through me as I listened to my father talking to his fellow officers and Annapolis classmates. I remained undisturbed and inconspicuous through many lengthy discussions because I was thought too insignificant to understand. There I absorbed much of the traditional salty vocabulary, and I learned that their creed was: Let him who knows not how to pray go to sea. Their topics were realistic! These same men also respected certain superstitions of the sailors. They firmly believed that red skies at night are pure good luck, but the same skies in the morning are sinister. Becausekof these charmfbound sailors, I was not allowed to go on the Kezweahlv maiden rung females on a first run are said to ujinx the ship. I met the Navy's men first on the cruiser Raleigh. There one Christ' mas Day an old chief petty officer, dressed as Santa Claus, landed on the water in a sea plane, minus his reindeer and sleigh, and was piped over the side to distribute his packages. The men always love traditional things of home and each year strap a Christmas tree to the mast. They celebrate Thanksgiving and Navy Day with the same vigor. I saw the midshipmen being trained to command the ships while I lived at Annapolis. In Norfolk I saw the same officers train others for war. The individualism of each was eliminated, as the men were molded into a mass fighting unit. They marched, and slept, and worked, and ate together. They were interchangeable in their jobs to insure a perfect product of unity. I was mostimpressed by the ships of the Navy. My first voyage was from I-Ionolulu to -San Diego. In San Diego I can remember sitting high on the edge of the Pacific while the entire fleet passed intriumphal review below me. The second time I was in SanfDiego, I visited the Vallejo Navy Yard, where the ships of the fleet originate. In long .lines they stood, ranged in order from a laid keel to a seaworthy ship. As one vessel slid into the water, completed, another took her, place.. It was a maritimeassembly line. I fully learned to appreciate the sturdy structure ofthe ships when I explored the Kaweah from stem to stern while she was under construction

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aes.. . . ..., -1- --'----W e I quite deliberately heaved a clod of dirt at dear Alfred and then ran into the house. Iishall probably never know whether the boys were waiting in ambush to attack my fat friend, but I certainly hope so! I pondered for ages on the startling event which had occurred so unexpectedly as to leave me in deep bewilderment. I couldn't believe it! I was indescribably hurt but not yet resigned to my fate. I would go over to Betty's the next day, and then everything would be all right again. I was certain of this! I went to bed that night a little happier but still uncertain. The next morning I marched over to Betty's and summoned courage to ring the doorbell. Betty, herself, answered my feeble summons, and when she saw me standing there, she giggled and looked embarrassed. Do you want to come out and play?'l I: queried hopefully. k I'm sorry, she said, but I have to play croquet with my grandf mother. The alleged grandmother had not stirred from her bed for three years. Betty then shut the door quite unceremoniously in my face. Then I ran frantically over to Iohnny's, but was there greeted with a shower of gunshots. I fled home in anguish and locked myself in my room. It never occurred to me that they thought me too juvenile for their adult tastes. I only knew that they had liked me once, and I was crushed and bewildered by this sudden change of attitude. I cried a great deal and felt more and more puzzled. There was something inside of me which ached throbbingly. I was slowly becoming conscious of the civilized tor' tures devised by the juvenile social system. I moped for days and spent most of my time staring wistfully out of the window, watching endless, heartbreaking baseball games and wanting desperately to be a part of them once more. Great loneliness swept over my heart like a tidal wave, but only for a little while. I made new friends with the children my own age at kindergarten and was soon happy and carefree again, but I shall never forget my first experience with social ostracism. I was a trifle wary from then on, for I had learned something from this bitter experience. Barham Malin, Class of ,46 To Uulmn 0, Vulcan, Clympian blacksmith, Forge well young Cupid's darts, For we poor mortals need sadly More love in this world of hate. Beg Venus to give us more beauty 1 In this land that is shattered with strife. Entreat Mars to end this slaughter, And Vesta to keep fires bright. p Deborah Gcvrvefr, Class of '48

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i 'Z- '-4 Edgy- Bw-K .Q .1- fn QQ. -15 K' ffl? A in theq,Brooklyn Navy Yard. ln turn l visited Nefches, a tanker, the Henderson, a transport, and even a submarine, the S-28. Each was a complete living unit for the crew. All modern conveniences were at their disposal. Every ship was designed to fulfill her job and fitted into the mosaic pattern of the United States Fleet. A . One result of these varied experiences and associations has been the acquiring of a general knowledge. I have formed my own opinions of 'each section of the country in which I have lived. Though my formal education has been frequently interrupted, l have learned many lessons which visual education teaches. Learning hath gained most by those books which the printers have lost. The long absences from my father and friends taught me early that the good things of life are not permanent, and l have learned to accept the inevitable willingly. As a result of this peripatetic past, I am no longer contented with the tranquil existence of a landflubber, but long for the stimulating life of the Navy. Where is the sea -I languish here! Where is my own blue sea? With all barks of fleet career And flags and breezes free! M ary J 0 Swomston, Class of '46 The joy of Spring The joy of spring is in the air. Along with sounds of laughter gay Hear children's voices everywhere! There's rollerfskating on the square On every bright and sunny day. The joy of spring is in the air. The tiny tots climb in the pear. The small toy boats sail in the bay. ' Hear children's voices everywhere. A baseball game just over there With shouts and cheers is in full sway. T The joy of spring is in the air. And on the sidewalk squat a pair, For it is marbles that they play. Hear children's voices everywhere! ' Oh! See that child jump like a hare, For hopscotch is the game for May. The joy of spring is in the air. Hear children's voices everywhere! Marry Louise Newell, Class of '47 ,f 'HQ ,gli ., ,M