Ashland High School - Echoes Yearbook (Ashland, ME)

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1949 Echoes of A. II. .S'. magazines .which declare that they have just the thing for people i.n my condition. But my mother, who believes she is very wise and experienced, insists that such remedies as they advertise are more hann- ful than they are good and strictly forbids me to ever use them. Personally I believe my mother is inclined to be cruel and enjoys seeing me suffer the way I do. Of course I may be prejudiced CI won't say jealous or envious! because my mother does not suffer from the same condition I do. I expect that I am exaggerating some- what when I say my condition is abnormal. But can one truthfully say a girl is normal when she is overweight fifty pounds. No. I don't believe one can. Which reminds me: I'm hungry. Oh dear, my poor figure. Cherry Bolstridge r.As'r IOURNEY HOME I am on my way to a small town with a very good friend of mine. This is the last time we shall ever be together. I will be returning to my own town in about five days, but I have to say good-by to this very dear friend. We were once buddies, and I will always remember him, but now he doesn't remember a thing. We met when we were going to college about four years before the war. He always made the dean's list while I was out having plenty 'of fun on the baseball field. He. had to work hard to get the money to help pay for his education, but he always had time to help the other person. Some of the gang used to go up to his room and have him explain things that they could not understand. He would explain them very carefully and the gang knew he was almost always right. After we left college he secured a good paying job and was making good money. When December 7, 1941 came, however, he was about one of the first to receive the uniform of the U. S. Army. He was trained and soon rose to the rank of lieutenant with a choice of either staying here to help train others or going into active duty. Active duty was his choice. He was in the Pacific Area for about a year and a half and then he went to France. ,He had been in France for about six months, when he was first wounded. A piece of shrapnel hit him in the leg. It soon healed and he was back on duty. After getting out of the hospital he was assigned to the front lines. He was wounded again, this time a bullet through the right lung. We hurried him back to the hospital, but he didn't last long. He was buried with the service of only a short prayer. Now that the war is over, he is one of the great many boys who lost their lives for their country and failed to return home. The train is almost there now. I must get ready to meet his parents and loved ones. It will be hard for them at first, but they should feel very lucky to have this boy back with them. Many of the others will never return. Ellen Ellis WANDEREITS PRAYER When I am old and feeble And have no place to roam, I hope I may return And make this land my home. I shall look back and smile On all that I have done. I'll think of all the things I've seen And just how far I've come. I always planned to travel: To see the world around. To run the swiftest river: To climb the highest hill. As the years go slowly past: To the Lord, my life I'll give Ever onward, as I go: These plans, I pray, I shall fulfill. F. I. Morris -Q l 1 I 4 A I

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Echoes of A. li. .SZ 7949 and said, Feel alright now, son? Those words that poured out of my father's mouth were to me like the music that soothes the savage beast and I felt like jumping up and kissing him. I tried to but I couldn't and it was then that I noticed that part of my body was in a cast. The cast extended from my waist to my knees. It was three days later, when mom and dad came again to see me that I received my hardest news to digest. It was then I was told that I could never again walk. The doctor told me that later on I might be able to ride in a wheelchair. But I had lots of courage left and I made up my mind that I would walk again. Well today is my happy day. I've waited over five years for this day and at last it's here. Yes, here they come. There's dad and mom, my private nurse, and last of all the doctor who made this all possible. the doctor who mended my two broken thigh bones. The doctor who for the first ti.me in his life is going to see a man 23 years old, sentenced to life in a wheelchair happy to get in one. Yes, today I take my first ride in a wheelchair. Everyday that I get into my wheelchair from now on I'll always remember this day. and though I can never walk again I can always think of days l'd like to live over. Carlton Morin THE RIGHT WAY Follow in my footsteps As we slowly move along. Onward down the path, Follow gently as a fawn. Now the path leads to the water. As on a hot and balmy day. Follow quickly: do not falter As we go upon our way. Listen friend and I will tell you. My advice is good they say. Travel down that straight and narrow As you go upon your way. F. l. Morris MY ABNORMAL CONDITION Over and over I ask myself the same question. why does it have to happen to me. What have I done to deserve this? And though I feel quite abused and pity myself often, I see no way out. Secretly I blame my family for my con- dition though actually they have little or nothing to do with it, except that they keep me well aware of the fact that if something is not done and soon then they will have me on their hands for the rest of their lives. In other words, they believe that my con- dition is a hindrance to my ever getting married. I like to think they are exaggera- ting about me: I certainly hope they are anyhow. Not that I care about getting married, but I do know of many girls in my same condition who got married and have lived happily ever since. And I don't believe their husbands minded the way they were. But there really is no reason for my family to carry on so about me, especially to the point where I am nearly in hysterics. What to do about my condition? I haven't the least idea. Heaven only knows I have tried everything. I guess l'm just a victim of circumstances. I've even been to a doc- tor and he gave me a detailed plan of in- structions to follow but because of my lack of will power they were of little help to me. Of course, I should improve my will power but I've tried to so many times before and the only results were la series of broken resolutions. At times I console myself with the thought that God meant for me to be this way and He has a special reason for assign- ing me to such a condition. That's pleasant to think about, for a while anyhow, until the next time my family starts discussing me. and then I somehow cannot find the right words to explain to them that I have acquired my condition by a divine right. Perhaps my main trouble is that I am looking for a too easy way to cure myself. Because often-times I have been tempted by the alluring ads in newspapers and

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Eclloes of A. fl. .51 . ...L W in Y- .V 1949 THE CAPTAIN'S BUTTONS The old, old legend As 'twas told to me j When I was a youngster W On grandpappy's knee. Was, if any captain Who sailed the great sea Should forfeit his buttons His misfortune 'twould be. And any a vessel He should sail from then on Would be in great peril Of the winds and the storm. The hold would become . Infested with rats. They'd float in his water And sleep in his hats. He'd run out of food Many miles from the shore. His chance for survival Would be very poor. So, you unfortunate captains To keep out of hann. Better build you a cottage Or live on a farm. - Marilyn Berry THE STORY OF A BABY-SITTER One night my next-door neighbor went out for the evening. She asked me to keep house for her, and sit with her children. She has three boys, Robert. Errol and David. When I arrived, they were all eating oranges and as soon as their parents left they started throwing seeds at each other. I tried to make them behave. but all I got was a squirt of orange juice in the eye. After about one-half hour they started getting ready for bed. Everything was all right until David suggested that they play hide-and-go-seek. I said, No, let's wait until you get undressed and have your clothes picked up, then you can play. Like all children. they didn't want to wait. Oh boy, what a game! l Before they had finished, one had a bloody nose. and the other a lump on his head. This was the end of the game. By then, it was time to go to bed anyway. Now, the trouble really did start. Errol wanted to sleep with David. I said,- All right. but no noise. Before I got down- stairs, Robert decided that he wanted to get into bed with the other two. I said. defi- nitely not. But he went in, just the same. Everything was quiet for about ten minutes. I had just settled down with a nice book and a piece of fudge, when Bang , one of them had fallen on the floor. The other two started giggling. I jumped up and dashed upstairs. When I reached the door, Wham, I got a shoe in the face. I dodged that one and tumed on the light. There on the floor was David sound asleep. In the bed the other two were just as quiet as little mice. I went over to the bed and got Robert up and made him go into his own bed, then I picked up David and put him back in bed. I no sooner reached the' foot of the stairs than David began screaming. Up the stairs I ran again. When I reached the bed- room. Errol said, l just rolled on David. To quiet them, I had to read a story. After I had finished the story, I put them all in separate beds. For the last time I went downstairs. At that moment, a car drove into the yard. How glad I was that the parents had arrived. What a relief!--An easy way to make money?-Not at all- my illusions in that respect, have entirely disappeared. Alta Currier ix I 1 W 1 F .