Broadview High School - Beam Yearbook (Broadview, Saskatchewan Canada)

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sitting on the mashed potatoes when he waved his hand at me. I knew he would not hit me because if he did he would ruin the potatoes. I just sat there and polished my glasses and cleaned my fingernails. I could see he was getting angry, and when I looked up there was a flash of green coming toward me. I flew to the right, then to the left and up I went. There was a crash behind me, and when I looked back over my shoulder the potato bow] and the potatoes were lying on the floor. Humans are idiots if you ask me. For example, they build beautiful ceilings, and then walk on the floor. —Blaine Norton, Grade X. DAY IS DONE The sunset was unbelievably beautiful that night. As we sat on the dock over¬ looking the lake, the colours we saw made our hearts thrill inside us. Great shafts of golden light illuminated the lake water till it sparkled like a multi-coloured jewel. As the red circle sank deeper and deeper into the rosy depths of the west, it seemed to set ablaze the fringes of clouds peeping over the silhouetted pines on the lake shore. The space left after the sun descended was like a nest of glowing embers shot with bars of dying flame. The heart of the nest was a deep scarlet, blending into orange, streaked by yellow streamers. Chartruese softened into the deepening blue of the heavens. The lacy clouds were as crocheted embroidery of gold behind the black pines. As the colours softened, they seemed to achieve a fairyland-like quality. We stared, satisfying our souls till night snuffed out the last ember of the sight. Above us, the evening star winked a benediction. —May Edwards, Grade XI. NO DREAM As I swam toward shore pushing my tiny raft, the blue-green water began to feel warmer and warmer lapping against my face. My “raft” was a part of the ship’s deck, which I had found floating near me after the explosion. If there were any survivors besides myself, I could not see them. All that was visible to me was a few pieces of wreckage bobbing in the water and the island which seemed to be miles away. I do not know how long I had been in the water clinging to this all too small raft of wood, but I do know it was late at night when the bomb hit, and now it was almost daylight. I had been lying in my bunk looking up at the bunk above me and thinking how nice it would be to be back in Saskatchewan playing football again. Then I could hear the scream of a jet fighter, the whistle of dropping bombs and chattering of machine gun fire. The boys upstairs with the machine guns and anti-aircraft did not have a chance to do much fighting back. I remember the sergeant telling us to get out of the sleeping quarters and to launch the life-boats. We were on deck carrying our rifles and packs when the ship seemed to break in half and go out from under us. The shelling and gunfire stopped and I can remember no more until I found myself in the water holding a life-saving piece of the deck. I still had my rifle and field pack, so I loaded them on the raft and rested as well as I could in my very wet environment. The ship had long since gone down and everything was quiet save for the lapping of the tiny waves against my raft. I do not know how I found this piece of wood in the night or how I had managed to hold on this long, but now I had to get to shore before the enemy planes came back to check on their night’s work. The island was now only a hundred yards away and soon I was able to walk in the shallow water and push the raft with my rifle butt. I was not sure that I would not be shot down by a sniper on the island, but I was too tired to care. When I reached the dry sand I fell with exhaustion and slept. It must have been almost noon when I awoke, because the sun was high overhead. The first thing I thought of was food. I was so hungry that I could have started eating one of those tall palm trees. I found some inflammable material and built a fire to make coffee. I took “K rations” from my pack and ate half of them. The next thing to do was check my rifle. I had not been shot at as I came ashore, but this did not mean that the enemy were not on this island. I had hopes that someone else had made it to shore from the ship. Twenty-five yards from the shore was the beginning of a thick jungle. This I did not wish to travel through. I decided to follow the beach and try to find someone from the ship, some friendly natives or at least a good place to wait for help to come. The worst that could happen would be to run into a patrol of enemy troops. My Ml carbine was all right and if I did find enemy troops, I would give a good account of myself. Everything was quiet as I walked along the beach. I could not even hear any jungle animals or birds. The sky was a beautiful blue with a few billow white clouds. Suddenly a voice whose owner I could not see, ordered me to stop. The voice,

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The final score was 35-22 in favor of Whitewood. Broadview points were scored by: P. Miskiman, 8; L. Norbeck and D. Laird, 4; D. Miskiman, D. Larter and G. Chamish, 2. Basketball Tournament at Broadview On Friday, March 18, teams from Whitewood, Kipling and Broadview held a tournament in the Broadview gym. In the first game, Broadview edged Whitewood 20-18. The leading scorers for Broadview were L. Norbeck with 10 points and P. Miskiman with 7. Leading the Whitewood scorers were R. Wescott, R. Baker and W. Nelson, all with 4 points. In the second game, Kipling trounced Whitewood 46-17. Top Kipling scorers were D. Izack with 14, and A. Szabo with 10 points. The final game of the day was played by Kipling and Broadview. Kipling showed from the beginning that they were far superior to Broadview, and went on to whip them 41-11. L. Norbeck with 6 points was t ps for Broadview. D. Izack was again the top scorer for Kipling with 10 points. Second Exhibition Game Thursday, March 24, Broadview met Esterhazy for the first time at Broadview. At the end of regulation time Broadview was leading 38-32. The two teams decided to play two more periods, and when these were finished Esterhazy had won 56-52. Leading scorers for Broadview were: L. Norbeck, 17; G. Chamish and P. Miskiman, 8. Third Exhibition Game On Thursday, April 7, Broadview journeyed to Esterhazy for a return match. In this games they agreed to play four 15 minute periods. The game was nip-and-tuck until the last quarter, when the Miskiman brothers broke it wide open by hooping 18 points. The final score was 60-38 in favor of Broadview. Top scorers for Broadview were: P. Miskiman, 20; D. Miskiman, 16; and D. Laird, 10. Literary INITIATION Initiation. What a day! This is the day when the new members of the student b ody are supposed to be recognized as part of the high school. Were we ? I wonder. Oh well, it was a lot of fun. All week we had to wear green and white beanies, then on Friday we were in full costunme. You would have thought that we were creatures from outer space, the way everyone stared at us. Every time we met a senior we had to bow and say “I am your slave.” Ugh! First off, we were taken through the torture chamber. What a dismal thought. First the big Almighty Seniors blind-folded the poor helpless initiates. We were told to hold on to this big firecracker. And we did. Why? Because a senior had told us to. We could hear the seniors whispering, “Where are the matches? Oh, here they are. No, no, you initiates hold on to that firecracker.” Then BANG. The boys jumped, the girls screamed, and the seniors laughed. It was only a paper bag full of air. This started the afternoon off with a bang, and I mean a bang. The rest of the afternoon the initiates cleaned the gym floor with toothbrushes. Imagine! Toothbrushes! Then we had to roll eggs around the floor with our noses. Don’t you feel sorry for us? I did. But just wait until I am in grade twelve. I pity the initiates then. —Marion Fockler,. Grade IX. HAROLD THE MIGHTY This is the story of my life. My name is Harold. I am a fly, and I live in Broad¬ view. You can usually find me in the “pool room” during the day, and in one of the cafes at mealtime. I can still remember the day I won the “hardest-to-get fly contest.” I was eating at a cafe down town when some friends and I were attacked by the angry cook. I was

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strangely enough, seemed to be that of a female. Not wishing to fight a female that I could not even see, I dropped my rifle and stopped. From out of the jungle stepped a dark-haired, brown-skinned native girl, clad in a red cloth outfit trimmed with flowers. She spoke English and told me that I was on a small island in the South Pacific. She said it was inhabited by no one except her tribe of beautiful native girls. If I was dreaming, I never wanted to be awakened. Unfortunately an American troop ship landed there a week later and I was again in the war. —Dale Laird, Grade XII. WINTER WONDERS A Canadian year would not be complete without the winter season, although it is considerably longer than required. Some mystic and sometimes awesome scenes of this season are the first frost, snow, hoar frost and icicles which contribute much to¬ wards the granduer of winter. First, as quickly as a flash, the first frost cf winter descends upon us. Over night, tree leaves become many different brilliant colors. Rivers, creeks, sloughs and lakes cover up with a smooth, enticing film of crystal clear ice. This thickness increases until finally many sports may be carried out on it. The first frost has been nicknamed Old Jack Frost. Shortly after, a carpet of soft, fluffy-white sncw is dumped on the expanse of our land. With the sun shining on this sheet, a fairy land of diamonds is produced. The weather is nippy, and consequently cheeks are rose-tinged with health, happiness, and vigor. In certain years snow is abundantly piled in drifts and blown about in fierce blizzards. The snow is blown, rolled up into snowmen, and dug in. This soft, billowy disguise is worn by our country for more months of the year than any of the other seasons. Another bewitching scene of winter is hoar frost. Hoar-frost is white frost or frozen dew. With the rise of the sun in the background, a phenomenon is produced which is cherished by people from Europe. This setting reminds them of the fruit blossoms cn trees in their old country. For those who have never seen this contrast, hoar-frost is the exotic jewellery worn by sleeping trees. Of course, like many things, hoar-frost can also be very destructive. Next in line, during a slight rise and fall of temperature, is the icicle. Usually these are circular, pin-point objects so often used for children’s swords and to in¬ scribe writing in the snow. After an extremely warm winter day, icicles may be formed in gigantic proportions by a snappy zero spell of weather. These mammoth icicles make designs worthy of praise from even an architect, because of their original and varied shapes. For the majority, winter is a time of sports, picturesque patterns, and a cooling-off period. —Vivian Brown, Grade X. THE TRUTH ABOUT SANTA Is he, or is he not real? Is he just a figure of ima¬ gination? The answer is yes, but little does it matter. The fact that he has brought happiness and joy to thousands of little children, of all countries, colours, and religions throughout the world, makes him the most well-beloved man ever known. Every nationality has its own name for him, but they all mean the same. He has been known as Chris Cringle, Father Christmas, and Santa Claus. To children he is portrayed as a jolly, little, fat man with rosy cheeks and a nose like a cherry. He is a per¬ son that laughs all the time; he is always happy, but never sad. He is clothed in red and black, with his long white whiskers and hair adding color to his costume. He comes to us in a tiny, heavily-laden sleigh pulled by eight tiny reindeer; the most famour reindeer, of course, is Rudolph. Out of his big brown bag comes the wonder and excitement which awaits every boy and girl on Christmas mom. Many songs and poems have been written about this jolly, little old fellow, and stories have been told the world over about the wonderful deeds he has done. He has lived, and will live, for many years to come, and he will be known by children forever. —Sherry Carnahan, Grade IX.