Bourne High School - Canal Currents Yearbook (Bourne, MA)

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Canal Currents, Bourne High School The days of supermen and women are here, in front of juke boxes, al! over the country. Put their restless energy to work in war factories. Do some- thing with them, anything with them! Just keep them away from us solid two- steppers. Malcolm Coady, ’45 Selections From A Diary January 5, 1888 Dear Diary, Today I went next door to borrow some sugar from Mrs. Sandburg for Mother. Mrs. Sandburg had a hard time understanding me. She’s Swedish you know, and so is Mr. Sandburg. I love to hear them talk — it sounds so funny. February 9, 1890 Dear Diary, I hate him! I hate him! Today it’s my birthday and I’m seven years old and I had on a new dress and he didn’t even notice it. Carl Sandburg, just because you’re twelve years old, you think you’re big. I’ll never speak to you again, so there! February 12, 1891 Dear Diary, You know. Diary, Carl is awful different from the other boys. Not just because he’s five whole years older than me, but — oh, Diary, I can’t explain it very well, but you know what I mean. And do you know that I like him better’n John and Harry. John and Harry are nicer looking, but Carl’s — well, he’s distinguished. He’s nice when he speaks to me. November 29, 1892 Dear Diary, Today Sister married that rich man from Virginia and now Mother says we don’t have to worry about money. I wonder what Carl is doing now. You know that he had to leave school last year to go to work. He was only 13 years old. I think of him a lot. ' April 24, 1902 Dear Diary, You couldn’t guess whom I saw today! Carl Sand burg! Has he changed! He told me I had changed and I said, Well, I should hope so. I was only eight w ' hen you last saw me and that was eleven years ago.’’ He must be twenty -four now. He told me he had taken a complete course in the School of Hard Knocks.’’ He drove a rhilk wagon, was porter in a barber shop, drove a truck in a brick yard, shifted scenes in a theater, worked in a pottery plant, washed dishes in hotels in Kansas City, Omaha, and Denver, sold stove polish, was a carpenter and painter, harvested wheat in Kansas and many others that Page Twenty -three

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Canal Currents, Bourne High School so much to the welfare of mankind. Perhaps there were potential Mmes. Curies in the number, scientists, musicians, statesmen, and professional men. What an extraordinary price to pay, only to fight again twenty years later, because the first time failed! But the war must end someday and we are the ones who must not fail this time. Certainly, were having a San Francisco Conference, and certainly, were taking vital steps for a world peace. But this is only the beginning. A conference can last two weeks and men can decide what’s to be done, but it takes a good many years for entire countries to become adjusted, to adopt and execute the plans put before them. In my childish mind, w ' ars seem so needless. If people could only realize the benefits of a world peace; the opportunities it would afford every individ- ual. Stop thinking of people as just people, but think of them as individuals; think of the opportunities afforded everyone in a world at peace. It makes you want to shout at the whole world, ' Tor heaven’s sakes, stop fighting and take time out to live!” We’re here for such a short time anyhow, it seems a little foolish to waste part or all of a lifetime. ' The problem — no, the opportunity — of peace has come once more. Be- cause millions have died again, we have another chance to establish that peace. How many more times will so many people have to die before we have an- other opportunity? The beginnings of a world peace are at San Francisco now. Men have assembled from every corner of the earth once again to make this world a much better one in which to live. This time, please God, may they not fail. Marilyn Wing, ’45 These Teen-Age Hepcats OUNCE me, brother,” dig me, kid” — it was enough to drive anyone crazy in this madhouse of hepcats. I felt out of place in neat clothes, combed hair, necktie, and pants unrolled and at ankle length. It all started when my English teacher said, Write an essay on anything that interests you.” Being a conservative fellow, I got my writing equipment together and headed for the aquarium. My paper was all titled South Ameri- can Bloepidus or the African Goldfish,” and I was prepared for an afternoon of excitement and adventure. I was halfway down Main Street when I began to hear shrieks, screams, and howls. Priding myself on my courage, I crept closer. There on Main Street, inside Ye Moderne Soda Shoppe” were a crowd of teen-agers, emitting roars of glee, all to the tune of a juke box. Never had I witnessed such a spectacle. Mother had never told me, and I removed my horn rims to get a closer view. I found myself pressed against the window. In a flash an arm reached out and I found myself twisting, turning, and twirl- ing with the best of them. After two hours of struggling, shoving, pushing, and crawling, I was again in the open air. I ran till I fell exhausted. 1 dragged myself home and after two weeks of complete rest I was able to walk again — in between my shaking spells. It is my opinion that if these human bundles of energy in their baggy sweaters, bobby socks, dirty sport shoes, and rolled-up cuffs, were put on our war fronts, the war would be cleaned up in a matter of days. Pa e Tiventy-two

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Canal Currents, Bourne High School I can’t remember! He told me that he entered the Spanish-American War at twenty and saved $100. He’s going to Lombard College right here in our home town, Galesburg, 111., on that and by working his way as a bellringer. He gets his degree this June. You know. Diary, he has the cutest smile. December 11, 1920 Dear Diary, Carl Sandburg has gone far since I knew him. I just read where another of his works, Smoke and Steel’’ has been published. I still like his poem Chicago” best, though. I heard that since he finished college he has been a reponer, advertising writer, a Safety First” expert for a business periodical, an organizer of the Social Democratic party of Wisconsin, secretary to the mayor of Milwaukee, and labor editor of the Milwaukee Journal. He has traveled a lot all over the U. S. during these years. I believe that he will be one of the chief poetical figures in America before long. August 4, 1944 Dear Diary, Many years have elapsed since I last saw Carl Sandburg and today I saw him for the first time in over 40 years. We reminisced for a long time. I noticed how his features were so very Swedish and his coloring wasn’t. His hair is pure white now. He’s still attractive, although his attractiveness comes from his unusualness. He’s working on a biography of Abraham Lincoln, which critics say wiU be the best ever written when it is finished. This work tanks high among literature. The best collection of folk songs is his, The American Songbag.” He has also written books for children. He is considered the poet of the working people and of Chicago. America’s greatest poet since Walt Whitman is Carl Sandburg. Jean Grant, ’46 A T eacher ' s Prayer Dear Lord: Not for myself I raise this prayer But for those within my care. From You, through me, to them, please give Your lesson-plan on how to live. Let them be guided in the ways Of Truth and Beauty aU their days. Let all the wonders of the world about Be theirs if they will seek them out. Let all the music, songs, and art Be constantly within their heart. May they learn all these, and then Teach them to others, dear Lord, Amen. Joseph G. White Page Twenty -fou