South Side High School - Optimist Yearbook (Newark, NJ)

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SENIOR OPTIMIST room toward the fire. It's a good thing we put Corn State in back away from the stadium. We had figured, before our break came, that the whole Corn State team would come clown with pneumonia as there was no heat installed. I rushed up to one of the firemen and asked him, how come? He tells me. Some wit gives a hot foot to a guy what's got a wooden leg, fAnother tradition that started herej and the first thing you know the uniforms is burnt and then goes the whole building. We've only got 18 uniforms and no matter how you add you canit get twenty-two men into 18 uniforms. So that puts the clamps on the game. So we claim the game by forfeit and finally get credit for a win. But that don't save the school from the mailman nor the stadium from the bank. The coach grabs the microphone and heads for the center of the field, then he turns slowly like Sitting Bull blowing the pipe of peace to the Four Winds. Then he gives them ask nothing,-give all -with variations. That saved the day's receipts. vrawrarafae Things are different here now. The coach sits behind a big desk thinking up speeches for dinners while a half dozen assistants, one being Gustav Wind, show the boys how to play football. But he still regrets that he didn't say something that day to make the spectators give toward the building of a new dressing room. Frank Lowery SENTORS' GRIND Work! Work! Work! Come now, do not shirk! That's what a Senior hears all day, Work! Work! Work! Our homework teachers won't stop. They give pages and chapters to do. Who gives the most work reaches the top, His prize is his joy at having enslaved you. Work! Work! Work! Come now, do not shirk! That's what a Senior hears all day, Work! Work! Work! It's for your good, they say, They don't care if we sit all day And study and study, till we feel we'll die. If We cram any more, we'll shout to the sky. Oh, we work, and we work, and we work. They don't give us a chance to shirk. Why, you're 4A'sg soon you'll be out of school. They don't let us forget but still stick to this rule- Of work-work-work! ---Leonard Arnold. Page Fourteen

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JANUARY 1939 after the funeral march but today he walks as though if he puts a foot in the wrong place, it's curtains. S'matter Gus ? I ask him. Then I wait for my answer. You always have to wait for Gus. I claim it's because he's looking for a hidden meaning. I'm sick. Sick ? fPausej- Yeah, I'm sick. What seems to be the trouble, Gus ? fLaterj - I still got that fever from the game - The coach breaks in here. What, he yodels, you got a fever at the game? Following a long intermission comes a, Yeah. The coach's mouth drops open just like he was offered a ten-year con- tract. He walks up to Wind and puts his hand on his shoulder like he was going to decorate him. Gus, he announces, you've done this for the school. Gus is stumped and ain't sayin' nothing. The coach knows he is the strong very silent type, so he answers for him. First he c'lears his throat. Gus, he begins on a low, even, earnest pitch, you're a hero. You are only a sub but you gave your all. And what an all and you gave unquestioningly, fHere he rises an octavej and unselfishly! What a noble gesture! The solid basis upon which all tradition is built. From the great base rises the great edifice. Let us ring down the curtain with the coach looking dreamily at Gus as if he sees the dawn of a new day. SIHIHIHIHIHK It is now Tuesday. What has happened since Sunday, I can't believe. Gus- tav Wind is now installed in the infirmary flanked by doctors who havenit shaved since Taft, cute nurses and flowers that smell like a funeral. Outside on the campus is the whole student body singing our school song- Onward Christian Soldiers to the tune of America the Beautifulf' Following which the coach renders his I have come to bury Caesar with variations. The stu- dent body is quite moved and you can almost see the tradition growing on the trees. By Friday, Gus is feeling as well as he ever did, but the coach keeps him in the infirmary. Also he spreads the word that Gus is declining. So again the school gathers on the inflrmary lawn to chant a chorus for tradition, the news reels, and maybe for Gus. Saturday breaks clear and the stadium fills early. The coach has the team in the dressing room early. He starts right in on Gus. You know the line. Up there in the infirmary lies a man who didn't think twice about giving his all for the school. A man who put the school before himself. He asks for nothing. He gave all. All he says is, 'Tell them to win this one for me.' just then somebody runs past the club yelling Fire, I beat everybody to the window and right off I see that the Corn State Normal junior College's four opponenfsj club house is on fire. Right away, I beat it out of the dressing Page Thirteen

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JANUARY 1939 AMIBSITIIONS THAT oTHiEHs HAv1E HAH iron ME ' By W. P. Adams This is the sad story of the life of,W. P. Adams secured at an interview with him as he did his bit to render South Side waterproof. My name is William P. Adams and I have waited years to tell the world the sad story of my life. As it does for all men, life began for me when I was born. I had hardly cut my first tooth when my trouble began. My father de- cided that I was the prettiest baby in the country and tried to get me hired for advertisements. I was hired, but alas, my picture was shown all over the country to illustrate what would happen to any baby that was not fed Bor- dine's Certified Baby Milkf, When I was four months old, my mother determined that I was an in- fant prodigy and started to teach me how to read. When I was two I spoke my first word! Thus my career ran on. At the age of four my promise as a great pianist was ended when simultaneously my parents received a restraining injunction and the finance company took away our piano. To console me, or rather them, I was placed in kindergarden where I made great progress for three years. I then advanced rapidly through the grades graduating with hon- ors at the age of seventeen. Hereupon my parents, aunts, uncles, and other hangers-on decided that my great genius warranted a good education, so I was sent to the best preparatory school in the country. Six years later I tried to enter collge, but the only one that would accept me was a barber's college. My proud father now was sure that I had found my niche in this world. He forecast the day when I would be the premier tonsorial artist of the world. Alas, my career was cut short when, due to a mathematical miscalcu'lation, I cut a subject's ears off instead of his hair. I was further disgraced when after being given a second chance, I cut a man's throat while shaving him. In the meantime, having acquired a wife and six children, I was forced to join the WPA. There at last was success. I rose from ditch digger to foreman, to pro- ject director. Then tragedy came. A bridge that my crew was working on col- lapsed. My friend in Washington died and I made the foolish mistake of vot- ing Republican. So here I am chipping away at the side of your honorable school. Well, so long, here comes the foreman! -Norman Liclalin. METAMOIRPHOSIS As a freshman I entered bewildered and green As a sophomore I 'learned it paid tobe seen As a junior, I worked hard for South Side High And now as a senior, I dread the good-bye. -Beffenice Stein. Page Fifteen