East Technical High School - June Bug Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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’TWIXT HEAVEN AND EARTH PROLOGUE Was that a figure stealing through the gloom of yon grey walls? It bore kindred resemblance to one. Should 1 have spoken to it? Why not? It had beckoned me. “Come, come, frail hesitating mortal,” were the words broached by that ominous apparition. It had spoken of a “frail hesitating mortal ; it could not have referred to me; 1 had not been the least intimidated by its uncalled-for presence, yet my business called me elsewhere. “Bah! I’ll be away. Fear is stupid. Still, my motor appendages refused to function with the required alacrity. They carried me slowly in the wrong direction. I approached the weird figure. It seemed to chortle gleefully, “To you, my earthling, comes the dire heritage and maledictions of that august group of graduates sent out into the world in the mid-months of that fateful year, one thousand nine hundred and twenty-seven.” (Part the First) “Long years ago, a number of youthful characters were inveigled into attending, une ecole superieure, a marvelous structure of doubtful contents. These innocents arriving on the threshold of their ‘great adventure’ were astounded by the mechanism controlling this vast institution. As they progressed in their studies, they grasped many ponderous and weighty thoughts. Their minds enabled them to perceive the wisdom of not attempting to climb the staircases which were indicated as 'Down only,’ especially so, when a burly military hall guard barred the way. Among other things they were impressed by the austerity of a group known as ‘Seniors.’ Threefold times they bent beneath the scroll and knew not why. Their new cloth-bound volumes not yet touched by student’s hand encouraged them in their folly. They tackled the studies allotted them with a zest and vigor worthy of a better cause. Beyond a doubt, they believed, they could conquer the world single-handed. Poor fools, may their souls rest in purgatory. “Ah! you scoff, you, a mere human, scoff at these words of mine! Such impertinent dogmatism!” “Er----ah, no, not at all, absolutely not, not I. I’ve had the measles though.” As if but partially appeased, the old one had stared at me with those bottom- 3 IMP t Twenty-eight

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bug 10 Cl| ' Orqg- EDWIN S. WILSON 90S K 7ft St. R.O.T. . iffict-r OlSccr ' CInli Matie A. J. WISNKWSKI 7517 Marine Ave. Home Room President Student Council Alchcmia Club Gym Cbptnins Chemistry. DAVID L. WHETSEL Commodore A|»artments East End Hi-Y College Course. FRED WONG 1297 Ontario St. College Course. ZOLTON J. MATE 2801 E. 125 St. Auto Club Secretary R.O.T.C. Sergeant Machine Shop. MICHAEL A. TANNO 1981 E. 126 St. Gynt Captains Chippendale Cabinet Making. MEYER WEINBERGER 92IS Yale Avc. R.O.T.C. Captain Alchemia Chemistry. JULIUS FRIED 10S37 Olivet Ave. College Course. ELSTF.R DOXF.Y 22S9 Wcodland Ave. Machine Shop. FRANK HLAVACEK 3707 E. HO St. Freeman Wreckers Pepigram Electrical Construction. Ci 11927r Twenty-seven D

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Q| BUG 10 less pits of eyes until I felt myself losing consciousness. I seemed lifted into space and transported many miles. (Part the Second) There, unbeliever, you view the calm before the storm.” Before me stood the old familiar brownstone walls in a verdant mantle of spring, of youth, or whdt you will. The customary dissidcnces of the day were, most obviously, absent. A strange calm had settled on the scene: the birds, song, sunshine, and other distractions of an ideal Spring day were apparent; but something subtle was missing. Clearly there was a momentous project on hand. What? Why? and How? offer a series of questions incapable of being answered, without further intelligence. Upon careful and prolonged investigation I learned —that it was indeed a momentous occasion, of supreme importance, to those concerned. A whole two weeks of holidays had been declared, dating from the previous day onward. Thus it was I learned the importance of holidays. (Part the Third) When these afflictions of '27 had arrived at the distinction of being considered ‘Juniors'. continued my old one, there arose a new problem to confront them. One half the class arrived at the conclusion that there was a femininity of the species: conversely, the other half deduced the fact that a masculine cult also existed. Then followed a wild whirl of ‘parties,’ ’clubs,' 'dances.' and allowance depreciations. They had now quite cured themselves of that studious habit so prevalent among the uninitiated. They also had outgrown the delight derived from Freshman hazing', a sport dear to the heart of the 'Sophomore.' They no longer considered the 'Senior' such a divinity. They actually knew many of them! Quite extraordinary, quite! Some, the less fortunate of this group, being burdened with a feeble brain, were invited to join the ‘Scarabaean Honor Society’ a calamity looked on by all as something to be avoided. The members of this monstrosity actually favored study as a privilege to be grasped -gingerly. Quite unconsciously these masses drifted along, drifted carelessly, drifted recklessly, quite detached from cerebral sensitiveness, which might have detected the rocks and other submerged obstructions likely to bar their way. Bah! 'tis of such stuff humans are fashioned. (Part the Fourth) World weary, and sophisticated these youngsters became affiliated with the ‘Senior’ class. Their hypocrisy was at its climax. Their one thought was: We are SENIORS! Teachers mean nothing to us; we are beyond them.’ Were they disappointed in their expectations? No. not disappointed, but simply astounded. The faculty had the bigoted audacity to give them failing grades. Their consternation was genuine. They viewed the horrors of not graduating with their class. Headless ghouls trailed them thru their sleep; bleary-eyed witches rode their bed posts. Dante’s ‘Inferno’ is a paradise compared to vivid imaginations fostered by agitated students. Graduation drew near. The 'Senior Party' came and went. 'Class Night' next, and finally 'Commencement. The uncertainty of their scholastic status was at an end. They strode out on the platform, were handed their parchments---------------.” But now. what of them now? Where are they? I ejaculated. Nc les voyez-vous pas? There they are, those groups today, off yonder. It pointed off thru the mists. Watch them! Such nonsense! Did you notice that?” I gazed into empty space with increased interest but saw less. The wraith’s voice trailed off in a whisper and I was alone. Henry G. Poole. 11 fl927 l ' • T Ttt Kty-nine