Rockland High School - Cauldron Yearbook (Rockland, ME)

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THE CAULDRON 13 if he really wanted to sign up, and junior Williams now becomes, Pvt. Thomas P. Williams, Jr., United States Army. Time has flown along to December 25, 1942, and Thomas Williams, Sr. now holds a telegram which reads: Dear Sir : We regret to inform you that your son, Lt. Thomas Williams. -lr., has been killed in action. Lt. Williams has been cited for bravery, having saved the lives of four offi- cers and ten men at the expense of his own life. The War Department is asking you to accept the Congressional Medal of Honor for your son. Sincerely yours, . . . In the few minutes that it took the father to read the telegram. he became thirty years older in appearance, and he uttered, God, take good care of my son. BARRETT JORDAN THE BASKET Nestled deep in the clearing under the protecting arms of two giant pines was a small log cabin. It was simple in structure, devoid of all luxuries and offering only the bare necessities of life to the family abiding there. Here lived John and Susan Bailey and their two children Bobby and Joan. It was just past midday and Susan was in the act of celaring away the remains of the noon meal. She could hear the men as they tramped back through the forest to where they were cutting logs a half mile away. Their deep lusty voices and buoyant laughter traveled back to her in the deep silence of the woods. It was lonely there in the camp with only two small children for company, but Susan had learned not to care, for she was a woodsmanls wife. There was always plenty of work for ber willing hands, and when the heavier tasks of the day were completed she occupied herself with sewing or knitting. On this particular Indian summer day Susan took her mending to the door of the cabin where she could sit in the sun and watch the children at play nearby. All was peaceful in the little clearing around the camp. The soft drone of insects, the frequent calls of south-winging birds, and the chatter of the two children were all that broke the afternoon stillness. Suddenly little Bobby jumped excitedly from his play and ran toward his mother shouting, Mummy we've got company, company, Mummy! Susan raised expectant eyes to the trail but what she saw caused her to spring to her feet in sudden fear. Her heart pounded and her body trembled as she gasped, Trapper Joe! If it had been a great black bear at the edge of the clearing her alarm would have been slight compared to her present terror, for the one thing she feared most in the woods was a meeting with Trapper Joe. He was almost a legend of the surrounding countryside. For years people had told tales of his amazing strength, brutality, and evil doings. As his name implied, he was a trapper, and he earned

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12 THE CAULDRON When she went into the kitchen which was to serve as a dressing room because it was farthest from her mother's and father's room, she saw her new pink organdy dress hanging on a rack. Oh,'l she gasped and could hardly wait to put it on. When Mrs. Brown came downstairs Barbie was sitting in a kitchen chair with her skirt spread out so as not to wrinkle it, all ready to go to school. After they had eaten breakfast and had done the dishes, Barbara and her mother started to school. As Barbara walked up the steps and into the schoolroom she thought, Oh, what a pretty teacher! As she looked around the room she said to her mother, Mummy, look! There's some chalk just like I play with at home and look at that great big blackboard. School's going to be fun. When, after supper, she said, Mummy, I'm tired, she wondered why her mother smiled and said. Well, dear, after this maybe you'd better stay in bed until seven o'clock mornings. You know, the first day of school comes only once in a life time. GRACE BowLEY FATHER AND SON The sun was shining brightly, December 25, 1942, but it was a bleak winter's day for Thomas Williams, Sr. as he crumpled the telegram in his quivering hand . . . june 10, 1920, was an eventful day for Tom Williamsg his wife had given birth to an eight pound boy. The boy was immediately blessed with the name, Thomas Philip Williams, Jr. Thomas, Sr. was now called the old man by the gang at the office as they inhaled the smoke from the birth announcing cigars. lt is now September 19, 1925, and mother and son start down the street to the school house where Iunior's troubles will have just begun. Will he ever forget the looks on the faces about him as he sat stiffly in his seat? Some were crying, others were holding back inevitable tears, while he just sat there admiring himself for his bravery. Then came the day, the first real sad day, in the life of both father and song Mrs. Williams was instantly killed in a railroad accident. They were now left alone in the world, but not for long. Junior was now ten years old, and his grand- mother came to keep house for them. She was a kindly soul always doing some- thing to make life easier for her son and only grand-child. Then came the day of all days. Dad rolled out the Buick and said, Come on, Son, I need a chauffeur. junior grasped the wheel in a death-like grip, and through the patient coaching of his father managed to jump the car down the street like a grasshopper. Fine, you're doing iinef' was the comment from the instructor, now let's see you drive her right into the garage. The car lurched into the garage, none the worse for a dented fender, procured during the feat. The date has moved ahead to January 1, 1942. Pearl Harbor has aroused Jun- ior's eagerness to become a soldier. Of course, Dad wouldn't stand in his way

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14 THE CAULDRON a scant living by trapping along Penobscot River. He was the last of the Passa- dumkeag Indians and one story said that he molested the white people because he sought revenge for the way they had treated his people. Such thoughts flashed through Susan's mind as she breathlessly watched the approaching figure. Who is it, Mummy ? asked Bobby excitedly. I'm not sure, Bobby, she lied, not wishing to frighten the children. but take Joan and go into the house quickly, and stay there! Hurry l But, why, Mom, I want to see our company, pleaded Joan. Never mind, dear, do as I say. By this time Trapper Joe was half way across the clearing, but he stopped when Susan called, What do you want ? For several seconds, which seemed like an eternity to the frightened woman, all was silent, and then in a booming voice Joe answered. I want water. My jug emptyg come long way. , Susan's voice shook as she said, Help yourself at the well over there. Not for one moment did she take her eyes from the huge man's figure as he bent over the well, took a long drink, and filled a jug from his pack. He turned and in panther- like Indian fashion glided out of sight, without another glance at Susan. For the next three hours Susan and the two children remained within the cabin. It was after the shadows had lengthened and the sun was gathering itself in a brilliant panorama of color on the western horizon, that a knock sounded on the cabin door. For the second time that day Susan sensed the greatest fear she had ever known and again she rose above her fright to face the most terrorizing object of the countryside. Grasping the nearest weapon at hand, a large butcher knife, she cautiously opened the door a scant foot and then forced herself to meet the eyes of the man on the doorstep. What she saw so surprised her that the knife fell from her hand. Instead of the sneaky, black eyes of an evil monster in a bearded face Susan saw soft brown eyes above clean-shaven cheeks. They were kind, and mild looking, and they reminded her of the eyes of a gentle dog. Was this Trapper joe ? thought Susan The bogey man of the district, the man who killed, stole, and spread ruin wherever he traveled? It couldn't be l You good to Joe, spoke the Indian, I brought you basketfl Susan's astonished gaze traveled to his outstretched hand which held a small round basket, It was hand-woven in gay colors-a typical Indian product. Wh-why thank you, she stammered, but it was just a little water. You kind to Trapper Joe, he insisted gently. The two children huddled behind their mother's skirt suddenly became bolder and stepped out where they could get a better view of the big man. An obviously rare, but still friendly smile crossed Ioe's features as he spoke to them. What your name, boy ?', Bobby. Mine's Joan, piped the little girl. With a soft chuckle Joe reached out his big hand and gently tousled the heads