Johnstown High School - Spectator Yearbook (Johnstown, PA)

Page 25 text:

1 STEEL-GLOW By the rosy steel-glow's light, White hot liquid steel is madeg When bright it shines all through the night Worry and fear must shrink in flight For the men will soon he paid! -Robert Palmer. FACTORY WHISTLES Factory Whistles Screaming loud, Turning loose Hungry crowd. Dinner Waiting, Mother glad, Children ready, Here's Dad! -Jay Palmer. r v . 14-Timfflle'-4-Tzifx ff! fe 2261-'f!'-i'e-twin' 4-226 -1 f 224-Ie: rv':F?:Ast.r4'3w.ev-r:-g'y-.L-vs1w:-f.f4:t541-v.r:-g .a 1- a:1-znrr.oagq1wps'1-wanna TOR- 935' -rs ,- x ,- L

Page 24 text:

STEEL WORKER 0 brawny worker, Why do you stand at the iron gate With dinner-pail in hand? ls it not time to go to work? Are you thinking of the day's work ahead of you? Or are you thinking of your people in your native land? ls it not time to go to work? If it were not for you, there would be no bridges, Ships, roads, motorcars, or skyscrapers. You glory in your work! Before that furnace, Shirtless, you stand, Your hands protected from the mighty glare, With your powerful arms, you open the valve. A glow illuminates the sky, The molten steel surges, Hares, spits sparks, Catches in its light The triumphant look on your red face. With your sinewy arms still on the valve, May there be no accident. Many years have you controlled the molten metal, O mighty worker. Stand there no longer hy that iron gate, The forge of Vulcan awaits you! -Martha Charley. 51-,Q-U5-7-.4-97:3-..--tgpn-A9-I-f11':go1-iff,-I :el r4'V2Cn!:+'1vFfY9 3 'f-L! I-'5? ' X:14 f'CL'f-1E!'!'M'-'?4 f1 zeioerarzswe-:tern-ae:-v61ffC+. M . -.- ' . . - . , ' .. l'Tl-IE SPECTP

Page 26 text:

PORTRAIT OF A MINER llrouping, With lantern-dimined, l'lI'0lll darkness to daylight, Cold, hungry, covered with dirt and grease, there works A man. Wleary Yvith lagging steps lie trudges slowly ll0lllCQ A friendly dog. merry children Greet him. Sighing XVith real comfort And lighting his old pipe, He rests in the evening twilight Content. gvivienne Hippler. A FELLOW TOWNSMAN He works for little Though he's in his priineg When his hills are paid, He hasnlt al dime. Wfhen he enters the rnine, His life is at stake, For he never knows When the c-eiling may break. The coal that he digs For the little he makes Means sacrifice For all our sakes. flvilliam A. Riley. 'I-f2+'3n'f-fi 'J .'t---1 awkff- ffffisaz-rfgv' s r I R446 cn'3!1-P.vlgsw: u-vr.g,4-1-c-vr x:-1-1-gt-f.:.sgq-g Ar: pm-5.5-5-1 Httavvswcrnwawxh, ,,, f , ., - -'.,. . in ' . . 1, , ' ,, ' .5 owes:-2' N' ' TI-IE SPECTA