St Marys College High School - Peraltan Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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Saint Ullargfs College llfigb School L1'i'fR ARY

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Ebe Tleraltan L. WS , iq BIZNLXRIIN P.M.-uzT1N NURBIERT W. W1-:uR1.lr3 'lkxmxms F. H1XYliS Iimv.-um T, O'Bku-:N PAUL W. JON!-Ls ANSEL J.L1ELLO Q ms,

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S 'Ciba 'Dcraltan Calbilforniais Contribution to the Literary World RoM a suburb of Oakland one takes the road eastward and ascends the mountains into the clear atmosphere of the t'Heights,', the lofty home of California's gone-but-not-forgotten poet, Joaquin Miller. The climb for the ordinary pedestrian is a tough one, covering a mile and a half of wearisome, rugged ground. At first he sees the hills, green in winter and spring, brown in summer. Then the bay far below, made hazy and blue by the distance, stretches before him. Far to the north, Mount Tamalpais lifts its rugged headg to the south the bay loses itself in the marshes, and beyond is the Golden Gate, through which the tide sweeps toward the land. These and half a score cities and islands that sleep on the waters, are all included in the wonder- ful panorama on the way to Joaquin Miller's 'fHeights. Such is the spot that the beauty-loving poet chose for his home after he had circumnavigated the globe and gazed upon the charms and won- ders of many lands. Here he planted the famous cross of trees, a gigantic piece of work five hundred feet long, and which is plainly visible from far away. For more than a quarter of a century this famous man lived on the Heights,l' and what he accomplished is worth seeing. When Miller went there, the hills were bare, as they had been since God made them. Today they are covered with trees of many kindsg stone walls dot the hillside. Much of this strenuous labor in developing the HHeightsl' was done by the poet himself, and all of it he supervised. The mere telling of what he accomplished gives very little idea of the workg it must be seen to be appreciated. For a time, Joaquin's nearest neighbor was a man eight miles away, and he was held in high esteem by Miller. On many a day and in the purple twilight of evening, when the hush of the hill was about them and the turmoil and unrest of cities seemed miles away, Joaquin, .in a reminiscent mood, would tell of his past, of the great people he had known: of the experiences that marked his unique career, and finally of the philosophy of life which he had embodied in his poetry, a philosophy which he truly expresses in the following stanza: ln' In mon whom mon condemn as ill, I find so miirh of goodness still, In mon whom men pronounfc divine, I find so miirh of sin and blot, I do not dare to draw a line Between the two where God has not.