Atkins High School - Maroon and Gold Yearbook (Winston Salem, NC)

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MAROQN AND GOLD CLASS POEM CLASS OF IUNE 1932 A light that shone above beckoned us, A cliff between, a pit below threatened us, Ice and snow heavily veiled the clilf: Black waters and untold animals dwelled in the pit. Above great wonders shone and radium in its splendor glowed: Upward, onward! Over the ice we climbedg Our feet slipped and the waters below, Lashed against the sides of the wall, Steadfastly we held to our staffs And pushed through the snow and ice. The glow from the light, warmed our hands: The chill from below rose in flurry blasts, But to no avail, for our goal was near at hand. Cherry voices, we began to hear, The snow and ice, we saw no more, Green grass, and yellow jonquils, we saw instead We looked below, the hole had closed We knew we had reached the light that shone. Oh, but we traveled o'er that rugged way But not for long, for we kept in our minds, He who steadfastly holds, shall in the end attain his goal. -Wilma Singletary, Iune '32 4 W l il X hilt' PAGE 25

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The the Hi-Y: Classy Benjamin Lee Williams Q SCIENCE Bennie one who makes the mast noise is not most powerful. Lost 6 Found Dep't Mgr: Pres. Senior Dramatic Club: Crown 6 Sceptre Club. Mary Louise Wilson INDLISTRIAL Tootsie l am striving for success. But if I fail, l'll fail trying. Sec. Cafeteria Club: Sec. Industrial History Club. Iessie Wilson INDUSTRIAL Iep Where there's a will, there's a way. Cafeteria Club: Pres. lndustrial History Club. Dowd Yarborough SCIENCE We are in s world of trouble testing our personalities tn endure hardships. Mary Robinson INDUSTRIAL Life holds much for him who will search be- neath its rugged exterior and gaze upon the beauty beneath. Mattie L. Hairston Maw The world is a beautiful book, but of little use to him who cannot read it. Crown Club. and Sceptre, Vice Pres. Embroidery PAGE 25

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C MAROON AND GOLD O HISTORY CLASS OF 1uNE 1932 The bell gonged: the last step had been climbed. I stood at the tower window gazing out over the river, with its im- penetrable forest background, that sur- rounded the tower on all sides. Night began to slowly close her mystic cur- tains: the sun sank beneath the rim of the western horizon, leaving a purplc glow of shadowy beauty upon the land- scape, rapidly it blackened under the veil of night: All nature became still--stiller than death itself. Iust a hushed silencc so poignant that the very stillness seemed depressing. The beautiful, mellow toned birds had hushed their songs: the rust- ling of the leaves had ceased: the lapping of the water against the moss covered banks seemed whispering tender words of unceasing love to the silver fish that darted hither and yon beneath its mirror like surface.-There was no sound ex- cept this soft music of the lapping water as a beautiful fairy like craft came glid- ing lazily over the waves.-Up above the stars brightened and, slowly-softly-one by one, covered the heavens. Long hours I stood and watched. How long, only God can say. Each night for four long years I had stood and watched this little boat sailing along on its apparently endless voyage. The adverse winds and tides had tossed it and beaten madly against its sides: still on it came, slowly but with all determi- nation as if in spite of all its difficulties it would someday reach its goal. And even as I stood and watched through eyes that grew dim and faint, the sky suddenly began to take on the coloring of a pale bluish mist: the great golden aurora ap- peared over the rim of the water and drunk up the mist of the dawning day as a thirsty doe slacks his thirst at some cool brookside. The curtain of night swiftly ascended and dawning day paint- ed its iridescent colors upon the waters. The river sparkled and shone brightly. Below on its banks, happy voiced child- ren began to play. Above rose the sun, bright gold. Fatigue grasped firm hold upon me, yet I continued to stare and fin- ally my head sank forward upon the tow- er window. Still no sleep came to my weary eyes. Every pulse within me seemed to respond to the slow motion of the stern little craft that had pulsed across the waters for so many days head- ed for the shore. And as I lay forward against the tow- er window, my eyes closed and our few tribulations and many joys passed in re- view before me. The expedition in which I had played a part returned plain- ly before me: old friends, old enemies, old toils and pleasures ran bitter-sweet through my memory, as I saw the little boat finally anchor upon the shore. I thought of the day, many years be- fore when for the first time we started sailing up this same river, one hundred and fifty-three children, enchanted by finding a new paradise, high school. Mr. I. A. Carter, our principal, who has so wonderfully guided us through these four years was also new. Our first year passed swiftly. We played an active part in helping put over the Library Drive. As Freshmen we soon learned the art of selling and boost- ing the Columbian our school paper and ranked fourth in the sale of the paper. The second year was dull, yet interest- ing. Although green as far as extra- curricular activities were concerned, we PAGE 27