Atlantic Christian College - Pine Knot Yearbook (Wilson, NC)

Page 11 text:

0 ' •) ical J-lwitakt u ica (Senior Class Poem) By James Beaty I thought — and thought — and thought — I thought the dusk was turning into dark; I thought I saw the twilight softly fading Into the shadows of night. I feared the dark! I wished it were not so, But now the shadows fell; I knew that soon I ' d feel a coldness in my throat. I did not want to go, But sunset drove the laborers from the fields. I did not want to say goodbye To them who through the noonday sun Had toiled along with me. How little had I thought of What each one had meant to me! How every one of us had worked as one — And now to say goodbye! And know that this would end it all And face alone the darkness of the night! I thought — and thought — and thought — And then across the eastern rim I saw a faded streak of light; I looked again. Ah, Yes, ' twas faded, but not fading; My heart leaped up — I saw that This was twilight, but not sunset. I saw the shadows flee; I saw the morning dawn, And deep within my soul I heard again The words the Master spoke; He that follows me Shall not walk in darkness, But shall have the light of life. And then I realized we didn ' t have to part — We didn ' t have to say goodbye — For always we could be united In purpose and in heart. How glad I was that this was not the end, That this was not the finish, That yet there is a race to run. And now we stand upon the threshold of another day; The streaks of grey across the western skies Are not yet quite gone, But the golden stream of sunlight from the east Dispells all fear, And with the brisky breeze that blows, Gives assurance to each heart That what the Master said so long ago Forever shall be true: HABEBUNT LUMEN VITAE!

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cJ-tldotu at L la at 1945 THE LAST SOUVENIR has been pasted in the scrapbook. No more space; many are the pages which contain a record of the events of our four years at Atlantic Christian Col- lege. Held between blue and white covers are memories of days which have gone by so quickly that at times it was impossible to re- cord passing events. Our freshman year was much like that of any other group. We went through the usual ordeal of getting accustomed to strange peo- ple, places, and things. For to us A. C. Col- lege was as new and different as any place could be. Little did we know then the love for it we would have four years later. We chose as our officers : Elizabeth White, presi- dent; Billy Barnes, vice president; Miriam Johnson, secretary; Bryan Parsons, treasurer. Then, we settled down to the business of learning. And we did learn! We learned that friends, parties, picnics, and fun were all a part of college life, as were mathematics, Spanish, English, and biology. The attack upon Pearl Harbor dampened our gay Christ- mas spirits and added a serious note to our lives. In the fall of 1942, we saw even greater changes as we returned to Wilson. Many of our classmates did not return; but those who did, elected as their officers : Miriam Johnson James, president; Helen Renfrow, vice presi- dent; Elizabeth White, secretary; and Wil- lard Woodard, treasurer. True, we lost many of our classmates, but we gained a few new ones: Doris Baumrind, Mildred Everette, Vera Loftin, and Lyle Reid Starling. We had the usual parties and picnics, and we enter- tained the seniors. Spring came, but the cam- pus had a barren look; without the boys who were called into the armed services, A. C. College was not the same. In our junior year, although our class had a few boys who were not in the service, our officers were all girls: president, Caro Lee Morgan; vice president, Helen Renfrow; secretary, Lois Webb; and treasurer, Grace Hill. Studies and classes took up a great deal of our time, the rest of which we spent at the Y store, the College Grocery, and the movies. We entertained the seniors at a the- ater party in the spring. Commencement came only too soon , taking away many of our best friends. Our first three college years passed by quickly. The scrapbook is getting worn; but on the remaining pages are memories vivid and real, because they center around the activities of our last year at A. C. C. Our officers — A. C. A Young, president; Betty Nethercutt, vice president; Lucille Boyette, secretary; and Julia Gliarmis, treasurer — managed effi- ciently about forty seniors, the class of 1945. For the fourth time, Dr. Hartsock was chosen as class sponsor. The main feature of the fall was practice teaching. Our class, even though it had lost many of its original members, had added, through the wartime speed-up pro- gram, many new members. At the end of the first semester, we lost several of our classmates by graduation: Ada Katharine Coor, Grace Hall, Mary Emma Perry, Char- lotte Ruth Gray, Ruby Davis, Lois Webb, Lottie Vann, and Rella Pace. During the year, three senior girls, Rella Pace, Elizabeth White, and Jessie Turner, were presented by the Music Department in voice recitals. How proud we were of them! By attending sum- mer sessions, over half of the members of our class were able to graduate in three years. During our senior year, souvenirs were recorded of the picnic which the Junior class gave us in April; pictures of May Day, which featured many members of our class; pic- tures of spring invading the campus and our hearts; movie tickets; and Hit Parade rat- ings. Throughout the year, entries were re- corded in diaries, telling about the fun in Sarie ' s Basement, V-mail letters, Frank Sinatra and Van Johnson, Papa and Butch, and our steadies, cabbage, beans, and potatoes. The mystery of the year was the recipe for the tomato goulash we were served frequently in Hardy Dining Hall. Al- most before we were aware of it, Septem- ber had turned into May; and registration had become graduation. The scrapbook of our college days is com- pleted. To say Good-bye to a life that has meant everything to us for four years is as impossible as it is to predict the future. Both the past and the future have a place in our lives; the past we hold, and the future is be- fore us. Here the scrapbook ends. Large as it is, its pages lack many souvenirs of the small events of life at A. C. College. Some may look at the book and wonder, but we remem- ber and smile. A — Helen Renfrow and Lucille Boyette, Class Historians. 10

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JULIA GLIARMIS, Maid of Honor LOIS WEBB, May Queen a 1 MAY 12