Bennett High School - Beacon Yearbook (Buffalo, NY)

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The BEACON LADY MOON The moon looks in at my window, Aloof is she, and cool, Her face makes a shiny shadow That glitters on the pool. She walks down the garden closesg Her slim hands, silver-white Caress the ivory roses That open to the night. -Kathleen Donnelly 11095 1927 AS OTHERS SEE US 1 was walking slowly homeward, When I saw approaching me, Quite the oddest little figure, Gracious sakes, what could it be? It was leisurely advancing, With a graceful, languid mien, Robed in colors that would waken Envy in a Gypsy Queen! Draped about the gorgeous vision, Was a trailing, scalloped gown, Matched in splendor by a headpiece Without equal in the town! Scarfs and beads were gayly dangling, On this figure so petite, That was slowly drawing nearer, On two most amazing feet! From one arm a bag was swinging, Made of silk and ribbon grand, Surely this wee gaudy creature Must have stepped from Fairyland! But just then, the vision spied me, Waved a hand, and then I knew! For a voice called gayly to me, Auntie, look! Fm dressed like you! -Louise Mroszczak C3239 1931

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20 The BEACON CONEY ISLAND Coney Island !-the noise and colorful movement of it all. Ever-changing, yet always the same. The rumble and roar of the roller-coaster, the tinny music of the concessions. What a glam- orous picture it makes! We went to Coney Island. For the fifth time in as many years we made the pilgrimage. Somehow you haven't really been to New York unless you have gone to Coney Island. It is a terrible place -noisy, dirty, and overrun with pleasure seekers of every nation- ality. fAmericans are in the minority.J But the lure remains. Chinatown, Harlem, the Village-all these you see once, and go home and tell your friends about them. But Coney Island! If you go once, you go again and againg and yet you never tell your friends-at least, your New York friends, for they will tell you, No real New Yorker ever crosses Brooklyn Bridge unless he is being buried in Greenwood Cemetery. We did the usual thing on our arrivalg that is, we bought bal- loons-red, blue, and silver, they were. Within fifteen minutes they had all burst. Q Coney Island balloons have a way of doing that.J But we didn't care, for already we were munching cotton candy and popcorn balls. fWe were deathly sick that night.J Then, as a matter of course, we squandered our money on that famous concession .which guarantees to give more bruises per square inch than any other in the world. We started down the circular shute with a rush, and with shrieks of merriment landed on the revolving floor. Within a minute's time, we were thrown, still shrieking, into the wide trough at the edge. Then through the revolving barrel-a merry chase, punctuated with tumbles and spills. And so on to the end-when we hurried out a sudden gust of air blew our skirts up around our heads. Frantically we clutched at them-but a merry little clown was paid to drag the hands away-much to the delight of the spectators. fThere are always spectators-many of them, laughing and shouting loudly- for that is the spirit of Coney Island.D Oh, we did other things this summer-just as we have done in other years, but now, as always, that day at Coney Island stands out from all the rest. -Elizabeth Winspear C 207 J 1928 Miss Brettle: When was Rome built? Dummy: At night. First: Who told you that? Second: You did 5 you said that Rome wasn't built in a day.

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22 The BEACON AUTUMN Dark muddy skies, And a drip, drip of rain Autumn has come- To Buffalo again. Huge elms swaying, Like ghosts, in the cold, Autumn has come, The year's getting old. A whistling wind, And a falling of leaves, Soon they'll be off, Leaving bare, bleak trees. Dark, muddy skies, And a drip, drip of rain, Autumn has come To Buffalo again. --John A. Merrill C2101 1928 YOUR GOAL As I was searching my desk for a long-lost paper the other day, I came across a clever little blotter which is printed by a local insurance company. At the top was this: The world steps aside for the man who knows where he is going. The man who knows where he is going is the man who gets somewhere. No one makes way for the aimless wanderer. The person with no definite purpose must expect to be tossed about, jostled and pushed among the crowd. He dares not object, for it matters not where he goes or whether he ever gets beyond first base or the 40-yard line. But if he were to have a goal marked with his colors, and if he Worked for, struggled for, the reaching of that goal, he could not stay back, he couldn't mark time. It is the people who saunter on with no particular purpose or destination who are held up and robbed and assaulted as they walk along. These people who mark time who ruin their prospects. The people who don't care where they are going are the public failures, the private failures, and the worst failures. Students of Bennett High School, have you something to work for? Have you a place on the team, on the honor roll, or in a society that you want to hold? If you haven't, get one. Know where you are goingg the getting there may take care of itself. -Lorna Knibb C2275 1929