Belmont High School - Clarion Yearbook (Belmont, NC)

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HISTORY OF THE SENIOR CLASS “ All the world ' s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.” This I beheld or dreamed it in a dream there spread before me, like a stage, a plain of North Carolina and on it I saw men and women playing out their lives. On one part of this plain I saw the town of Belmont, its citizens engaged in manufacturing textiles. I observed the mills, the homes, and the business section of Belmont; I watched the people work and I watched them play, both in a free, contented manner. As time passed, I w.atched the actors change; some passed on, but the babes became children and entered a period of education to prepare themselves to fill t he vacancies. T he year was 1931. I perceived a group of young children, myself among them, entering a school for the first time. I noticed the anxious looks of the mothers as the youngsters trod off to school. I saw their wondering looks as instructors herded them in and the curiosity with which they examined desks, pencil sharpeners and small books for the first time. I saw them drilled in obedience and courtesy. I watched their adaptation to routine, and the gradual unfolding of capabilities in each one. In their grammar grade years they mastered the calisthenics of reading, ’riting and ’rithmetic and began a march against their common foes — history, English and geography. I watched them learn to depend on themselves. And then I beheld a change — a second act began to unfold. The class of ’43, as they came to call themselves, now knew progress. They were more assured, less child-like, sharper-witted, broader-minded. This time they were schooled in a new building and became known as Junior High students. Here I noted a broadening of the stage, the entrance of new players. Again in 1 938 the setting was changed — they were entering another build- ing, under new teachers. I recognized this as the band which began in ’31. but how changed! I saw evidence of maturity as this group began to evade their former boundaries and explore the rough fields of mathematics, English, and science. Then I heard the rumbling of discontent on other plains of the world; I saw our peaceful country become a theater of war-preparation. In Belmont I watched a quiet atmosphere, a new determination, a wider interest settle over each member. I saw them begin to prepare to serve America — they learned to drill, to obey, to work; they began to absorb aeronautics, radio, electricity; they became self-conscious of their health and future welfare; they experienced small sacrifices. As I watched, the end of this play came into sight. I saw the class of ' 43 prepare to take leave of Belmont High. As I watched, they marched down the auditorium aisles for the last time and received their diplomas, thus ending their public school days. It has now become time for us to enter a new play, called “Life,” and the entire world shall be the stage. We have completed a phase of preparation; the next phase shall test our newly acquired strength. We have reached the crossroads; each shall now choose the path he will pursue. Page T wenty-tivo

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1 4 SENIOR SNAPS Page Twenty -one

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CLASS POEM Belmont High — school of magic, Built ’neath a halcyon sky, Surrounded by a land of enchantment. Where heaven seems ever so high. Here the river, Catawba, rolls onward In its own solemn, turbid way, And the tiny birds soar song-ward As pines softly whisper and sway. Here, on your campus and playgrounds, We have formed memories fond and dear, While the kindness of loving teachers Has drawn us more infinitely near To the One who fain would bring us Away from all thoughts dark and drear. Here, dim-lit halls have sheltered us From the fierce tempests raging without, While cheery classrooms have helped us To proceed on life’s road without doubt Of our ability to overcome from within The hardships that are ever about. Today we stand at life ' s portal Looking yonder at the road just ahead Not afraid of the challenges greeting us Because through your halls we have trod. So, now as we bid you goodbye, Dear school that has guided our way. Be assured that gratitude n e ' er shall die. You’ll be proud of this whole class someday. — Tulita Pickens Miller. Page T wenty-three