Demopolis High School - Vine and Olive Yearbook (Demopolis, AL)

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And many a man with life out of tune, And battered and scarred with sin, Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd, Much like the old violin. A mess of pottage, a glass of wine, A game and he travels on He is going once, and going twice, He's Going and almost gone. But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd Never can quite understand The worth of a soul and the change that's wrought By the touch of the Master's hand. Right now, we as Americans are preparing to celebrate our 200th Birthday as a nation. Special festivities on a grand scale are being planned, but super-fireworks are not what the bicentennial of our nation calls for. This year 1975 should be a year of restoration and regeneration, a year to knit ourselves together, to relearn lessons from our past, to find out who we are and to assess the true sources of our strength. Most of all we need to reassess our values of trust and self-respect. Wish we could teach others the love lesson we have have learned. We can try--because we made it work--didn't we? We are the new SOUTHERNERS---so let's put into practice in the world what we 've learned through our schools. The Salutatory by Cheryl Ann Henson Here we stand united as the Senior Class of 1975. We thought we would never make it here but now we have and we have only just begun. Through the help of our parents, teachers and friends we have waded our way through childhood into maturity. We have achieved one of our first and major goals - - to complete 12 years of school. Now we stand ready and willing at life's door to be part of the answer and not part of the problem. As we move on toward college, work, or marriage we are preparing ourselves to be the leaders of our world. Through our 12 years of our lives together each Senior has played a vital role in what we are today. We have become very close as we have matured together. We have laughed together, danced together, acted silly and wise together, studied t th d ' ' ' oge er, argue together, and if ever there was sorrow everyone was there to help pick up the pieces. We have shared much and as we part to go our separate ways into our separate world we break away from each other Th r . e e will be no more walking down the hall full of smiling faces at DHS, no more counseling from our dear teachers, no more close and secret con t' l ' ' ' ' , versa ions at our ockers, and no more waiting until the period before to study for a test. No, now we have grown up and we are about to take a giant step into an unfamiliar world. There will be no one there to hold our hand, we must now stand on our own two feet. Life from now on will be what we make it. But after preparing for 18 years, and with the help of God and all our loved ones we are now ready to make this ste we . . . . . P are now ready to take responsibility in actions concerning our family state and country We are now ea t b 'y ' A l I I , , . ger o egln mto a life which offers many promises but as we begin we have memories that will remain with us throughout eternity . . . For as Barbara Streisand ' ' ' ' . says memories may be beautiful and gay, what's too painful to remember we simply choose to forget. So its the laughter we will remember, whatever we remember, for THE WAY WE WERE. And as we walk down the aisle tonight with smiles on our faces, a sense of accomplishment in our hearts and tears in our e es we will all r b THE y emem er WAY WE WERE and hopes to make the future THE WAY WE WANT IT TO BE. 153

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The Valedictory by Melanie Walthall Roberts The Southern way of life we love, this proud and gentle land we cherish is rapidly being swallowed up by the 20th century. A serene bit of our historic countryside gives way to the neon jungle and we lose a little of ourselves as something special, something unusual in history--of ourselves as Southerners. The South of our fathers and grandfathers, even the South of our own childhood is rapidly disappearing and we are a part of that history. Many people have never heard of Demopolis at all, but there are plenty of people in Boston and other cities who should hear about our small Southern town, because over the past ten years our town has changed from one with anxiety for its school systems into a town of racial harmony with a school that is a showplace for peaceful intermingling--and we the Seniors of '75 are the living proof. In 1970 when freedom of choice rules were struck down, Demopolis was ordered to integrate. We were in the 8th grade and this is our story. A large part of our townspeople were de ad set against our school's success--some were quietly for--but the large majority were willing to sit back and see what would happen. No one person could make it work, but many said, O.K., I can't make it work, but it won't fail because of me. Look how far we came on that attitude, posse ssed by so many of us. It won't fail because of me has a great deal of application in our society today. I can't do a thing to alter the course of events in this world. A lot of things I don't like and a lot of things I do, and often my efforts as an individual seem rather frustrating, but still it won't fail because of me. And with this attitude one can accomplish amazing things. Hundreds of people dedicated to a goal proved this. As the years went on the things many people had feared never happened at all. The idea was that there would always be racial hate and fighting, there would not be any discipline, and the students would suffer academically. But this did not happen. The reasons for our success after such despair? 1. Let's credit the faithfullness of the faculty to the students and to the cause. 2. The athletic program which provided a rallying point for black and white students. 3. Our ruralness--the basic trust of small town people. 4. The principles of Christian Love. Let's characterize this love as a deliberate caring for the needs and feelings of others A lot of credit for alleviating the fear and mistrust that stood in the way of integration is this--Christian Love. In a time when it is vogue to blame God for war, poverty, starvation, greed, and everything else that is very wrong with mankind, it's quite good to give him credit for a little something that is very right with mankind. 'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer Thought it scarcely worth his while To waste much time on the old violin, But held it up with a smile: What am I bidden, good folks, he cried, Who'll start the bidding for me? A dollar, a dollar, who'll make it two? Two dollars and who'll make it three? Three dollars, once, three dollars, twice, Going for three But no, From the back of the room a gray haired man Came forward and picked up the bow, Then, wiping the dust from the old violin, And tightening the loose strings, He played a melody pure and sweet As a caroling angel sings. The music ceased and the auctioneer, With a voice that was quiet and low, Said: What am I bid for the old violin? And he held it up with the bow. 'W thousand dollars, and who'll make it two? Two thousand and who' ll make it three? Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice, 'lAnd going, and gone, said he. I The people cheered but some of them cried, We do not understand 152 What changed its value. Swift came the reply: The touch of a master's hand.

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