Cheektowaga Junior Senior High School - Centorial Yearbook (Cheektowaga, NY)

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Cowboys and Indians Are a particular breed of men. Not many of either are left . . . But the soldiers, they always persist. The good guys and bad guys Are a particular breed of men. And its hard to tell them apart . . . But the soldiers, they wear uniforms. Hawks and Doves Are a particular breed of men. On opposite sides of an argument . . . But the soldiers only follow commands. Perhaps we'd all have a better chance If we dismantled our toy soldiers And let the fat old men with the beady eyes, and talcum powder under their arms Fight the wars, and kill each other all in the name of peace. FRED The waters whisper silently To all of those who sleep, To all of those who find their rest Down in the silent deep. The waters guard the lonely graves, The hidden, unmarked, silent tombs Of men who fought the mighty sea, Of men who've met their watery dooms. The waters hide from all the world The ravaged boats and whitened bones, And echo soft and ghostly sounds, THE ROLLER COASTER As I climbed on the roller coaster, my palms were sweaty with anticipation, and my eyes sparked with fear. A sudden shiver of cold crept up my spine as the conductor fastened my seatbelt with a loud click. One small moment of doubt, and I was on my way, unable to escape. The cars climed steeply upward, creeping slower with each skyward step. The coaster creaked and stuttered, as if it, too, feared the torturous ride. It paused at the very top of the incline, and I, too, caught my breath just as the descent began. In unison, the coaster and I screamed as the cars flew down- ward. The wind whistled past us laughing at the jest, as the coaster and I became one. Our breaths came in low tortured gasps and we could not tear our watering eyes from the track. Then, suddenly, we screeched to a stop, the ride was over. I clat- tered out of the car, and strode away, laughing, with the cry of the coaster still ringing in my ears. RED Echo whispered prayers and wretched moans. Mary Wagner

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He was a vivacious child, eager to explore every in- finitesimal fraction of the world around him. At that mo- ment his whole being was enchanted by a multi-colored butterfly soaring out of his grasp. ln his straw colored hair there were glints of strawberry. The curly locks en- circled his face, that pallid face which was just begin- ning to take advantage of the sun. The flaxen eyebrows which he possessed curved sharply in a half moon shape over his eyes. As he examined his world, his deep sea-blue, oval eyes glowed with wonder and amazement. His long, curled, midnight black lashes were the kind that made women envious. His playsuit was brown, yet, all the dirt that soiled it was noticeable. His pockets were filled with assorted items, a half squished peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a frog that he thought would survive being crushed in the sandwich. His legs were colorful with a variety of cuts, bruises and black and blue marks, and his knees were stained green from the grass on which he had crawled. His outstretched hand was waving farewell to the butterfly as it flew out of sight. Cheryl Rucinski Time-my oldest advisary beckons me once again. How often have I mocked her slow and sluggish pace as youth and l ran hand in hand one step ahead of her! Time-unconquered champion, victor of every contest. We were a foolish pair my empty youth and I, as we laughed with smug contempt at the age and endless sage of Time. Mary Wagner As the gun roared, the man stood impassi- vely rubbing his unshaven face, a stub of a cigar hung loosely between his lips. He wore a dark hat slightly bent around the rim to shade his squinted eyes from the bright Spanish sun. The man walked slowly to his perforated target examining his marks- manship. Placing his target down he took a few steps forward. His long tattered poncho swinging loosely, he turned quickly. The gun roared again, the bullet met its mark and the target flew spinning wildly in the air. The man took out a match and scraped it between his fingers. The match blazed into life. He lit his cigar. Now his face seemed more relaxed, less concerned. Nodding reassuringly to him- self, the man walked slowly toward the setting sun, thinking to himself that he just might be able to survive another day. Don Malachowski 169

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FEMALES There she sat, snug and cozy, on my favorite lounge chair. I watched furiously from the doorway as she gazed at my husband with adoration. Gracefully, she rose and waltzed over to his side. She practically purred! The worst part of it was that Jack was actually taking it all in. He loved every ounce of her attention! I decided that something had to be done, so I eagerly did it. I went to the backdoor and un- leashed my secret weapon, the hairy monster. He wasted no time but shot straight to the living room as I chuckled with glee. He really caught her in the act! Upon seeing the terror, she screamed in hor- ror and fled through the open window, hotly pur- sued bythe beast. As I smugly walked into the living room and sat in my rightful place beside my spouse, he looked at me with suspicion. Honey , he asked, why did you let the dog in? You know he despises the cat! Oh , I purred sweetly, I didn't even notice that she was in here! Marilyn Sanders A day is born, The child of time and light. It soon begins its journey- a trek into the past. A day dies quickly, Killed by time which bore it. Its grove is marked by memory the key to yesterday. Mary Wagner He was fighting for the right to represent his team in his weight class in the wrestling match the following day. His chance would be decided by the outcome of this match and it was halfway through when he had a chance to pin his man. He was down on his knees straining forward by pushing his toes into the mat when his adrenalin not only seemed to flow but explode forward. His calves were ready to burst and his arms draped around his bent opponent were red and perspiring wildly. But of most importance was his face which showed to the farthest extreme his determination. His minute chin and his intrusive jaw with clenched teeth forced his skinny cheeks to pull back the corners of his lips. His nose was small and forced downward over his prey's shoulder, and his eyes showed madness in which he was overcome by a rage of wildness. The bewildered opponent was finally overcome by this last frenzy but the victor seemed uncon- scious until he realized his conquest. Ken Ziegler