South High School - Southernaire Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

Page 30 text:

T1 IK SONG OK KEEIINAWATIIA Valh a ceiling, high and latticed With a maze »f 1 ascment piping. Dwelt a pedagogue of merit. Keehn by name, and all his children. To he learned in ways of wisdom Of the T square and the compass And the ways to paint a sign. “O my children! My poor children, Listen to my words of warning, I have given you | ens to draw with. I have given you paints to paint with. I have given you scales and rulers, Filled the dry pens full of black ink. Filled the bottles full of pigment, Why then are you not contented?” Spoke the children. “We are sorry. Truly inks and paints intrigue us. Artists we shall l e. and draftsmen. But, forgive us when we mention That at moments our attention Wanders to the sunlit schoolyard Where free children roam above us. We are weak, and we admit it.” me kint rrstm 6 now QUEENS OF THE KITCHEN Here's to the eggbeater. Long may it rotate, saving the common man. by its frothy dash, from the common fate of meals from a can and inevitable hash. Here’s to the white-capped makers’ of dishes that boast (be they salad or roast, or pastry or stews) that each bite is good news. Here's to the pot-stirring girls in white, the Queens of the Kitchen ; may they always delight the suppertime sleuths and dining room lords with hot. tempting dishes on gay festive-boards. 28

Page 29 text:

-HUT IT’S WORTH TELLING JUST ONCE MORE Twice a week, 18 weeks a semester, 6 semesters, it was always the same; hurrying down the back stairs into the locker room, the fingers on one hand crossed (to get into the gym on time) while the other hand tried desperately to untie the result of last week’s rushing—that careless knot in your tennis shoe. With the country going all-out for physical fitness, girls’ gym at South High followed suit. Conditioning exercises, first under the supervision of diminutive Irene Schrieber, then under chipper Sara Haymaker, made their debut. An epidemic of limps, grunts, and groans did likewise. There was OUR basketball, a combination of wrestling and football, and we loved it; baseball, where a broken fingernail got more attention than the ball that just whizzed by: folk dancing for the dainty misses of the class; and apparatus work—ugh! Just plain ugh ! Came the end of the period and Gym Leaders would take over, and take over they did. A particularly noisy class would find themselves in plenty of hot water—or cold. Then—running up the back stairs, with the fingers of one hand crossed (to get to history on time), and the untied shoelace doing its darnedest to see that you didn’t. Twice a week, 8 weeks a semester. 6 semesters. It’s girls’ gym, always a sporting proposition. OWED TO CHEMISTRY Thanks for the memory— Of tests we seldom passed, Of being nearly gassed. Of Bunsen burners, H,0. Of good times to the last, ----Thank you so much. Thanks for the memory— Of walking in a daze. Amid that smoky haze. Of living in another world of Molecules and weights. ----Thank you so much. 27

Page 31 text:

A SERMON BY THE EDITOR If you’ve ever seen the pressroom'’ you’ll know what I’m going you haven’t, well, listen. Do you know what it is to walk in a nightmare of j astc|)ots awl rulers, of ty|»e sjxrcimens and make-up sheets, of assignments and deadlines f That’s Journalism. Do you know what it is to submit a |K t story, with a |«rental pat. and have it come lack maimed and crippled, horribly disfigured l»y blue-lining? That’s Jouralism. Do you know what it is to fill 10 empty inches of space—to hunt for news when it just ain’t? That’s Journalism. Hut there is more. Do you know what it is to see your story in print, and read, and appreciated ? That’s Journalism. Do you know what it is to sec someone chuckle, right over the place where you tried to be funny? That’s Journalism. Do you know what it is to “make it through’’ with a hunch of kids when sledding is toughest; to know them until anything but a nickname is strange; to call a teacher “Ma : to stay with a subject so long that you seriously think of changing your last name to “Beacon”? That’s Journalism. It was logical and crazy, wonderful and nerve-racking, incessant, constant, demanding. Hut most of all. it was for South. THE STUDENT COUNCIL ESSENTIALLY democratic, always in evidence, sponsor of countless current drives—the Student Council was always the center of activity. Election weeks were hotly contested affairs, each February and June, when posters dangled everywhere reminding the observer of the merits of the Dynamics of Progressives, or F.O.B.’s. There were cainj aign speeches and ballots, and after the dust of battle bad settled, benefit dances and welcome parties, scrap and war-bond drives. And always the weekly Tuesday meetings of the entire council. A grand gang who have left a grand memory—the Student Council. 29