Phillips High School - Mirror Yearbook (Birmingham, AL)

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The Mirror SONGS OF STEAM I’m frail, you say, light and airy? Yet powerful weights you make me carry; For I make the wheels go ’round, Ships to move, whistles sound! I’m the stuff that moves the world! And I make the heat to flame, The force behind the worker’s game. I’m a conqucrer of Man! I’m a conquercr of steel and storms and Man! —Pauline Thomas THOUGHTS Thoughts while strolling, while sitting and dreaming; Thoughts like the wind, like the stars or the rain; Thoughts of the high nobility, Thoughts of the peasant clan; Thoughts of a whimsical young girl, Thoughts of a robust young man; Eternal thoughts of generations past. Where are you now? —Pauline Thomas VAGABOND A country road, God’s vagabond, It tramps awhile, then stops To smell a gold tipp’d golden rod, To listen to the South-wind talk. —Pauline Thomas SIMPLICITY Through auroral mists at dawning, Rising slowly over the bay, Even before the birds take warning Comes the sun to light the way. Just as in the great Beginning, God created man and beast, Things done calmly, simply, surely, Arc not numbered among the least. [24] —Pauline Thomas

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The Mirror THE SIGN HANGER A high spot in the busy days of little children is the advent of the sign hanger. When they hear the familiar chug of his motor and the faint sound of his horn, all the children of the neighborhood run shrieking out of their houses to be the first to greet him. 1 here he is in his old car. loaded down with paste, paper, ladders, and brushes. He greets all the kids with a cheery smile and they in turn chorus. Hello, Mr. Man. What arc you painting today? He looks mysterious, then smiles and tells them to wait. Soon he turns and starts to work. He sings awhile, then whistles, because he is happy at his work. He is the great artist before an admiring audience. They envy his skill with the large brush and strips of paper. Ah’s of admiration are heard as the picture slowly begins to form. First there is the white border that is characteristic of all sign pictures. Then the next strip and so on until the pictures is complete. I he painter tcps hack to view the picture with a critical eye. Moth the painter and the children love the picture of the little girl there upon the board. Her golden curls and smiles seemed real for the moment. The children exclaim gleefully at the new picture of Shirley Temple that is to play the next week. Pleasant anticipation for the children: satisfaction of completed work for the painter. 'I he pic.ure has passed the approval of the hanger and he begins to pack up. So with profuse goodbvs the painter rattles away and the children resume their interrupted play. —Virginia Scott A GLIMPSE OF LIFE She is coal black, aged, and a hit decrepit, and though she boasts of the fact that she wa horn “befo’ the Surrender,” she sets her age at forty-five. She is depen dent upon the welfare of kind people. Though her toothless mouth is a sign of age and poverty, her spirit is none the less durable, and her weather-beaten features arc none the less interesting. Her humble obedience is the pathetic attribute of a handicapped race. Her religion is as Puritan as her ancestry is African. Enduring faith and hope inspire her to loudly sing in a husky voice various Negro spirituals, or to chant her own improvised melodies. With a child-like enthusiasm for her work, she sells candy wheji the weather permits. One week she collects money to pay for her husband’s funeral expenses: the next week, praises God for mv health , she says, “and good meat boiling in the pot.” .Most people arc amused at her quaint characteristics; others sympathize and take part in Negro welfare movements. Her two-room shack, gaily decorated with numerous calenders, or colored pictures and festive advertisements bedecking the walls, is a veritable peep-show for small children. Her speech is usually humorous, but I knew not to laugh when one day she indignantly exploded, “Why can’t 1 get work? I got to live. 1 i folks, too! [23] —Pauline Thomas

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The Mirror Birmingham OPEN DOORS The door of learning is open wide For our future. Many have passed through who willed and tried To gain culture. So we can learn to live with grace, For there are no doors that bar; Any of us with up-turned face Can walk and walk afar. —Mary Elizabeth McLester APPROACH TO BIRMINGHAM The approach to the City of Steel is indeed an entrance to a City of Magic. Towering high on the top of Red Mountain stands Vulcan, which one beholds as he climbs the steep ascent. With ever watchful eyes, he guards the riches of both mountain and valley. The torch in his hand beckons the traveler into his kingdom. Upon the threshold the stranger gasps with amazement at the view before him. The twinkling lights, the flashing signs and the red flicker of the western sky fill him with awe. Descending the mountain, he is dazzled by the lights playing “hide and seek between the branches of the trees. The spire of Highland Methodist Church rises heavenward from the tree tops, and the chimes peal out rhythmically above the confusion of noises. It is six o’clock. The bark of the automobile, the clang of the street car, and the merry laughter of children make the traveler realize that he is not in a trance, but entering one of the South’s most progressive cities. On either side well-trimmed lawns arc made visible by the street lights. The glow from the windows of the residences seems to send out a welcome, and the reverent attitude of the statue of our beloved Brother Bryan seems to bestow a blessing on all who enter the city. 'I'he white way guides one onward—a beacon beckoning one with its brilliance; tali buildings rise against the horizon. Many colored lights flash on and off. The rumble of trains, the dark underpass and the cries of newsboys announce the entrance to the heart of Birmingham. —Mincy Brcckenridgc BIRMINGHAM HOMES Birmingham is an industrial city. How often we have heard this statement and gloried in this fact. Yet Birmingham is a cultural center as well. It is too often true that people who know only a little about a city reach conclusions too hastily; such has been the fate of Birmingham. People have heard of our many industries, and our industrial progress, but those who have visited the residential sections of our city are convinced that in the midst of this busy center much culture thrives. A visitor need only drive through the residential sections to verify this statement. Some of Birmingham’s most beautiful homes have won national recognition [25]