Banning High School - San Gorgonian Yearbook (Banning, CA)

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“ LITERARY SECTION DESERT GLORIES High above the silent desert Then retires from sight leaving the world Slowly, softly, shadows shorten, All alone. As the sun climbs high and higher. Slowly the shadows of cacti lengthen, Sun-baked flowers look up and smile, But still the sun throws out its beauty, Soon to wince at the gaze of the sun; Reflecting colors in the sky. Sands reflect the morning radiance, Here a splash of golden yellow, Brightening the drab dunes of the waste There a streak of glowing rose Separated, joined and mingled With the blue of skies beyond. In the hidden glories of the twilight Shadows softly seem to deepen, And the splendors of the sand dunes Wrap themselves in darkest night, Hager to find a cooler place And like sentinels of the desert To rest their hot and sun-scorched feet. Cacti stand alone and watch, A desert bird appears in haste, Guarding o’er the waste land treasures Utters a short-breathed, panting cry Till they sparkle with the sun. From a dry and heat parched throat, —Dorothy Page. land Into a blinding, sparkling world, Wrapped in stillness, Silent as death, Except for the snapping of a twig As rabbits scamper from shade to shade “MELON TIME IN DIXIE LAND” twilight; a still breeze was blowing, and the air was fra- It was a balmy summer with their day’s. work grant with the smell of summer flowers. All were through in the rear of Oak Dale plantation, and all was quiet except g of a banjo. The negro men were of the colony and were discus- out in the negro colony for the hum of voices and the occasional strummin gathered together over by the brick well in the center sing the events of their day in the fields. Small dusky pickaninnies were playing out in front of the crowded one and two room cabins. Angeline and Alfonso, the Romeo and Juliette of the colony, were sit- ting under a large oak out of sight of the colony, but Alfonso’s deep bass came floating back, singing: “Good night ma’ Angeline, Farewell ma’ gal so fin-nn-ee. Leaving time is grieving time. Hates to part with baby mine. Night time was made for loving, It’s the right time for turtle doving.” Old Granny Cindy was sitting on a soap box out in front of her cabin, smoking A great sorrow had befallen Granny many years before, and her old corn cob pipe. old pipe as her best friend and sits out in front of her cabin now she clings to her and smokes it all day long. Everyone was happy tonight, and why shouldn’t he be? Wasn’t tomorrow the happiest day of all the year? It was the day when all the darkies gathered together from miles around and celebrated the ripening of the watermelons. On this day of days every mammy had a new gingham gown. Many people came from miles around, and they were allowed to eat all of the beloved fruit that they could possibly hold as well as feast on possum pie, sweet taters, and other foods dear to the negro’s heart. In the evening they could dance to their hearts content and enjoy themselves as only a carefree darky can. PAGE NINETEEN

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FRESHMAN CLASS Fifty-three Indian youths and maidens filed into the huge forest of High School Land one sunny day late in September, 1927. They had just come from a land far distant, known as Grammar School, and they were eager to make new friends and become acquainted with the customs of this new land. This new tribe of Indians is the largest to ever enter the Banning Union High School. They were soon trudging through the leaves of the forest, leaves of Alge- bra, Latin, Spanish, History and many others, Later on in the same week, they once again gathered around a big tree and held a consultation. They chose George Barker as big chief of the tribe, and agreed on Miss Thayer as the wise man to advise them in all of their important steps. Louise Bramlette was chosen to represent this new tribe in the Student Council, but she left them later in the year and Clarice Cothran succeeded her. Evans Fitzpatrick became wampum keeper, but he also went away, leaving Philip Coombs to take his place. This tribe of ’31 became full fledged members of this group of Indians one evening when they were initiated by their elders. They worked earnestly to capture some of the leads in the Tribal Plays and the Operetta. They seem to have succeeded, as a number of the leading parts were acted by Freshmen. The Indian braves went out strongly for atbletics as well, and intend to do the same in coming activities. 19 Wh, SS PAGE EIGHTEEN

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Very happy were they on this day, those carefree negroes, who had so little worldly goods but who were so contented and happy with what little they owned. Aunt Mandy, a good natured soul of about fifty years of age and some two hun- dred pounds in weight came from her cabin. Immediately a scream went up among the children, and they all ran to her, “Won't you please sing us a song, Aunt Mandy?” cried Liza, a long legged girl of ten. “Lawd, chillens, Aunt Mandy ain’t got no time for to sing you all no song, Yo’ jest run along and let old. aunty be,” replied Aunt Mandy. “No, no, Aunty, won’t yo’ please sing us jest one little song?” “All right den’ I will. Which un’ does yo’ want me to sing?” “Sing the one about the turkey,” said Rastus. Aunt Mandy picked up the smallest child in the group, put him on her knee, and rolling her eyes began to sing: “A-way down yander in the lot— De’ gander walk and the toikey he trot.” She sang this, Baa Baa Black Sheep, Johnny Get Your Gun, and Swing Low Sweet Chariot before the children would let her stop. When she finished at last and sent the children off to bed, Angeline came over to her, “Hello, Angeline. Sit down dere; I hain’t seen you since Buck wuz a calf. Whar hab you been keeping yoself heah lately “T ain’t been no place in particular, Aunt Mandy, jest kinda busy, dat’s all. I sez to myself tonite that it wuz about time I wuz a callin’ on you, and I come over to set awhile. How is things a goin’ on up at the big house?” “Fine as silk, Angeline. Say, reckon we'll have a pretty big crowd heah to- morrow. Don’t you?” ; “Yeah, I suppose we will. Alfonso sez that a lot of folks is a comin’ frum clean up Thomasville way. By the way, Aunt Mandy, will you tell me why Granny Cindy won’t come out of her cabin any durin’ the watermelon feast? Yestiddy I sez to her, sez I, ‘Is yo’ planning on a big time tomorrow, Granny?’ And she jest stared at me kinda queerish like and sez, ‘Go long chile, yo’ jest go long and let old Granny be.’ How come she do like that Aunt Mandy?” “Well, Angeline, yo’ jest sit still, an’ I will tell yo’ all about it.” “Jest forty years ago tonight all of us wuz a sittin’ around heah jest as we all is now an’ a plannin’ on wot a good time we wuz all a goin’ to have the next dayanI wuz jest about ten den, and and Granny Cindy wuz twenty and the belle of the colony, and she had jest married Moses Johnson that day. Moses wuz twenty-one and as fine a looking a young man as you would ever expect to see. They was gure- ly one happy couple dat day, and they had planned to stay heah until after the water- melon feast, and ‘en they wuz a goin’ to go clean up to Thomasville on their honey- moon. “Well, the day of the feast came, an’ we all had as good a time as we could and ate all dat we could hold, an’ dat night they all wuz a dancin,’ All ob dem wuz a dancin,’ and, chile alive, yo’ ought to hab seen Granny Cindy dance. Yo neber in yo’ life saw anybody what wuz half as good a dancer ag Granny Cindy—an’ Moses, why he wuz the best fiddler in the country. Honey lamb, onct yo’ heard him playin’ yo! feet would start to ticklin’ and’ yo’ couldn’t keep frum dancin’ if your feet wuz bound wid twine, “Well, dat night Moses wuz a playin’ an’ Granny Cindy wuz a settin’ by an’ a- PAGE TWENTY