Crawfordsville High School - Athenian Yearbook (Crawfordsville, IN)

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The ATHENJIAN Page Eight Thanks The ATHENIAN Staff wishes to extend its thanks and appreciation to Miss Grubb for getting us started on the ATHENIAN, to Mrs. F ortney for standing by with her ready sugges- tions, and to Miss Schweitzer for her assistance with the copy.

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The ATHENHAN Dedication Because he brings honor to the school by producing outstanding bands and orchestras every yearg because he supports all school activitiesg because he sponsors the Victory Corps and is President of the State Band Associationg and because he is a gentleman-we dedicate the 1943 ATHENIAN to V. E. Spaulding. Page Seven

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The ATHENJIAN . The Eleventh Hour MERILYN STILWELL It was snowing and soft bits of the snow fell against the window panes with pussycat stillness. Inside, the room was warm, lit only by a blazing wood fire in the hearth. The soft firelight cast flickering shadows over the room, leaving in the corners pools of untouched darkness. jonathan Amherst sat reading before the crackling fire. The magic flickering flames cast a rosy glow over his pallid face, giving him an almost healthy loo . He was an old man, nearly eighty, and stricken as he was with the illnesses of old age, he knew he had not long to live. Now, as he felt the warmth of the fire steal over him, he leaned back in the chair, his book sliding unnoticed to the thick carpet. An elaborate crystal chandalier, heavy with prisms, caught the fire's light and sparkled. Jonathan's glance flickered toward it and as he caught its brilliancy, he thought fleetingly of the time when its beauty not been his to enjoy. had He was thinking of many things as he sat musing and staring into the fire. He remembered this house standing now as it had when he was a boy. Snatches of his life paraded through his thoughts with vivid clearness . . . his life, as a boy, in this house, his Erst love, his disillusionments in life. He remembered . . . past very jonathan stood at the ed e of a ballroom floor watching the dancers. The swirling skirts of the women made a pleasant blur of color before his eyes. As he looked out over the crowd of dancers, a girl in a white sequin-covered dress cau ht his attention. Unable to help himself, he stared at her. What was there about this girl that so strangely attracted him. He had never seen her before. He was certain of that-and yet somehow he seemed to know her. Fascinated, he continued to watch her. Suddenly the tempo of the waltz changed, and the girl was lost to jonathan's view. It was rude to have stared at her so . . . he turned away. Several times during the evening, he caught himself comparing the girl with others that he saw. None was her e ual. Later in the evening, jonathan caught the gleam of the sequins again as the girl and her partner danced past him. With no will of his own, jonathan moved toward the girl. La ing his hand upon her partner's shoulder, jonathan muttered a few words to the man, who turned away. For a few moments neither jonathan nor the girl spoke. Then she smiled and said, I am Stephanie Hollins. A log snapped in the fire. Jonathan started. His hand clenched on the arm of the chair as if in pain. He muttered hoarsely, Stephanie, my darling! Then, startled at the sound of his voice echoing in the empty room, he slowly sank back into his chair with a weary sigh. The moments swirled by in the French clock on the mantel as jonathan sat slumped broad expanse above the marble mantel, where Beneath a smoothly braided crown of silver-gold in his chair. He looked up slowly to the hung an enormous portrait of a young girl. hair, cool green eyes looked down on him. Her lips smiled at him and he whispered again, with a sob in his voice, Stephanie! After a moment, he turned his head, directly to a mahogany cabinet standing cabinet jonathan saw an old violin lying his glance sweeping the room. His eyes went in one corner. Through the glass front of the on a velvet cushion. The shining dark wood of Page Nine