Balmoral Hall School - Optima Anni Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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10 SIGNE T5 Ebony And lvories The moment I stepped through the door- way, I was overcome with the feeling that I had crossed the threshold of reality, and had stumbled upon another world, a fifth dimension that lured neurotic victims of the twentieth century into its grasp and held them there relentlessly. Silently I shook my- self, and thought, not without amusement, that if I continued to be so melodramatic, people might begin to wonder whether or not I was in complete control of my mental faculties. Actually, it was just a crowded Chicago bar which I had entered, but there was something about that small, smoke-filled room, an ethereal quality, which made me think of things fantastic. I paused for a moment and listened, and suddenly became conscious of a hauntingly beautiful melody which drifted lazily throughout the room., casting its mysterious spell over the occu- pants and holding them entranced. I realized that it was those strains which had affected me immediately on my arrival, and even now were playing upon my emotions. Then the music stopped, and life in the bar re- sumed. I checked my coat and wandered over to a table near the band, seated myself, and ordered a drink. By the time I was served, the transient melody had begun again, ac- companied by a ripple of applause, for it was an old favourite, and for the next few minutes I relaxed, sipping my drink, and S - po-Q7 CSU!! I I N ac I?g Q R SC enjoying the exquisite, slow and dreamy music. When the band had completed their re- pertoire and had gone backstage for a brief recess, I followed, a trifle hesitantly, for I knew that they would not relish being both- ered during their only break in the even- ing's work. But my business was with only one of the musicians, the piano soloist, the man whose exceptional artistry was draw- ing crowds of people, and would draw crowds more in years to come. I-Ie was not seated, smoking and chat- ting, with the rest of the group, but was standing by himself, resting one foot on a crate and leaning upon his raised knee, gaz- ing fixedly out of the window, and inhaling deeply as he smoked a cigarette. When I first spoke to him, he seemed not to hear, and so I raised my voice and repeated my- self. f'Do you mind if I smoke? A pause. See those stars out there? In a way they're like peopleg they form their own private little groups, and they won't let any others into the group because they might spoil the pattern. Yes, just like people. The big negro sighed. Silence for a moment, then, You're Alan Davids, aren't you? I saw you in the audience, and guessed what you might be here for. Thats right. The magazine wants a .complete biography. You know, all the usual stuff - birth date, hometown, child- hood sweetheart - the works. Then there'll be the usual plugs - Rising young star

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9 Balmoral Hall Iune. 1964 My dear Girls, As another year draws to a close, I ask you to recall the poem This Year is Your Shipf' When you steer your ship into the harbour at the end of Iune will you be satis- fied with the course you charted for yourself? You had a stop-over at Christmas and Easter to examine your progress. Some of you proceeded thereafter more cautiously and with a clearer vision of the course you were following: and some of you became more aware of the reefs and cross-currents that were jeopardizing the safety of your journey. I would like to say a brief word about these reefs and cross-currents as they relate to your year's progress. The reefs of course are the difficulties you encounter in navigation. These difficulties vary, but I shall mention a few. Some of you have dif- ficulty in concentrating, in working independently or in mastering facts: others have dif- ficulty following instructions. delving below the surface, or finishing assignments in a given time. The cross-currents are the distractions that will always beset you - thc telephone interruptions, the television, the wandering thoughts and day dreams that you have not yet learned to control. The experienced navigator, and each year you should be more experienced, learns to look ahead in order to avoid the reefs, and to steer away from the cross-currents of distraction. In this way each year the journey, interesting with its ever-changing hori- zons, and challenging with its demands on the navigator, can be safely manoeuvered. My last thought is for those of you who are about to sail your ships to far-away places. I join with Prospero in wishing you f'Calm seas, propitious gales and sail so ex- peditious as may bring you, after a happy voyage, to a safe harbour. Yours affectionately, Special Pre-School Dates For September, l964 Senior girls are asked to meet in the Library at Balmoral I-Iall at the following times to arrange courses and get text books. Tuesday, September 8th 2 p.m. -f Grades X, XI, XII. 4 p.m. --1 Head Girl, School Captain and Prefects meet in the Library to plan the Opening. Wednesday, September 9th 7 p.m. -- Boarders X, XI, XII - Textbooks and courses.

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11 discoveredf' Best jazz since Basie. You'll get plenty of publicity: we'll get an original story, and everybody's ahead. Okay, he sighed again, I'll tell you my life story, but it won't be quite the way you want it. More philosophical, I think. Sure, sure. just don't make it too high- brow, or you'll scare off half our readers. 'AWell, I was born in this city thirty years ago, the youngest of eight children. and l've lived here ever since. My father was a fine tailor, 3 note of pride crept into his voice, and financially we were fairly well off, but socially . . . l You'd think that in Chicago, being as far north as it is, there would be little racial discrimination, but you're wrong! We were the only negro family living in this white residential district, and the other families made our lives miserable, the kids, by teas- ing us, and the parents, by snubbing Ma and Pa. Right then and there, I made up my mind to become somebody that white people would admire, and raise up on a pedestal as someone special, with a very special talent. Then, from my greater height, I could mock them and their feigned superiority, as once from their make-believe pedestal, they had mocked me. This last was spoken with a sneer. And, dammit, I've done it! When I look up from the keyboard while I'm playing and see those fickle fools listening entranced, but privately wondering how a dirty nig- ger could be so damned talented, I think how much above those inhuman creatures I really am. And you, Mr. Alan Davids, you are one of them! By this time, he had become quite upset, and had raised his voice considerably, at- tracting the attention of the other musicians. As he was outwardly a shy and unpreten- tious man, he immediately lowered his voice, and, with a quiet, mirthless laugh, spoke, Now that I've put a-cross all my moral views, I'll get on with the vital facts of my unwarranted existence. Later, when the band had resumed play- ing, and I was once again seated at my table, I realized how much less enjoyable his music was now that I knew that his calm and smiling exterior was just a mask of pre- tence, to cover up the bitter hatred which was burning inside him. But though I dis- agreed with his beliefs, and hated the force which was sucking the very life-blood from him, I held a grudging admiration for this great musician, and I resolved that the bio- graphy which would run through the presses in less than forty-eight hours would contain none of those twisted thoughts of revenge, but would be merely a simple ac- count of what was actually a complex man. NANCY LITTLE-Grade X The Storm Deliberately Grey clouds gather an omnipresent gloom, Depressing . . . Imperceptibly The breeze bows to a heavy torrid heat, Oppressing . . . Majestically Thunder-rolls rip the despotic air, Impressing . , . Angrily Brilliant bolts sear a funereal sky, Frightening . . . Slowly A silver sphere slithers along the pane Relieving . . . Gradually A revengeful sun pierces the palpable shell I-Ieightening . . . Enlightening . . . Brightening . . . JANE MOODY-Grade XII Tell Them I Came There was a great feeling of tension and expectation among the people who stood in the cold solemn line. They were outside the school house in a poor area of West Berlin, waiting patiently in hope of getting a pass to go into the A'Forbidden Half to see loved ones they had left be- hind. As I looked down the line at the miles of drawn and anxious faces, I was struck by the face of a young girl who appeared to be no older than fifteen. She stood there ,in an old grey coat and a red knitted scarf with a lock of dark brown hair hanging in one eye. Her eyes were filled with tears and her mouth was set in a straight line in determination to keep back the tears. She looked as though she had been standing there for hours for her face was red and she was slapping her hands together to bring back the circulation. Gvercome by curiosity, I went over and spoke to her. After some hesitation she ex-