Kingswood School Cranbrook - Woodwinds Yearbook (Bloomfield Hills, MI)

Page 35 text:

Block buttering Goodbye, cruel world. Ili, Gang. Up, up and away. Oli, lAtrd, help the Woodwinds. Behold! The Gang. Source paper done? 'Tteas nothing! Anything for a picture! A likely story! Why, oh why, did I ever leave Paducah? 13 r L At do!

Page 34 text:

No kidding,! Yes, that's true. Speedy” and her homework. U 'i llllllll it tastes mighty good! Holding up lunch. Writing a letter? Hashing tn:cr last weekend. I dig those Iwg pipes. Spring Fever! C is for Cephalolhotax. Ltmging? The Decal Kids

Page 36 text:

A LIFETIME IN SOUND The old basement room of the fraternity lodge was damp and musty. The painstaking artistry of spiders etched a misty filagree along the sills. The shattered remnants of an abandoned model plane cluttered the surface of the only table. There were a few punch-drunk chairs casually tipped at various angles and the discarded memories of some pledge's first cigarettes tossed with Iwyish mischief at the tip of somebody's left ear. Out of the shadows at the far end of the room came the lonely whisper of wire brushes teasing the head of an old snare drum. It was a sleepy sound that made me want to curl up next to a blazing fire. But it began to grow, and soon every muscle in my body began to beat with a steady pulse under that barrage of emotion. A tired old sax joined in and the whole room seemed to swell with a heartbeat all its own. This was music, music you don’t hear played by the professionals. This was a release of all the love and hate and anger and fear that had to be hidden from the outside world. It was a tribute to all the davs back home when the boys used to swim, naked as the sun, at the bend of the river; to the cold, ugly frogs they used to put in the girls’ desks at school; to the time “Dad had taken them to work with him, and they had helped to build the big bridge that now connects Madison and State; and to all those times when, around the age of fifteen, they had stumbled across a dance floor only to find that “Killer Martin had beaten them to the blonde who had just moved in down the block. But more than that, it was an invitation to things to come: to the day they’d walk down the aisle with that girl next d x r; to that rainy night when they’d race to the nearest hospital just ahead of the stork; to the first son to whom they'd teach the technique they used in the forty-yard pass that cinched the game between Stanton and Harland; and to the lovely daughter they’d drive to her first big date. This wasn't just music, this was a whole lifetime in sound. And it made me want to close my eyes to listen. . . . Mary Shaw A MOMENT Stop for only a moment While 1 ponder. I look into your face And see a young girl grown To almost womanhood. I l M)k into your eyes And see the joys of youth. Realized in the sorrows of maturing. I look at the blush of your cheeks FOREVER And see tenderly-nurtured eagerness. Directed toward hope for the Future. I look at all of you And see all that you are Haunted by the half that you shall be. Go now and be joyful. For I know you. believe in you. And 1 shall not forget you. . . . Delphia Lamherson