DeWitt Clinton High School - Clintonian Yearbook (Bronx, NY)

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IMC LH UW

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AMG MY QU E IR Red and htack. It hes on the hed, stuffed high upon the sheit of a musty closet, hanging in gtory from the watt of a room, perched on the head of any senior through the years. it is only a hat you say. Qniy a hat. Forty-Five cents of corduroy with smau hiacic numerals 159 sewn on a red hacicgroundg yet this hat has woven ahout it an epic of spirit, pathos'-life. Through four Putt and hearty years you worked and laughed and felt hitter sorrow, Five hours a day. Day after day, stopiess hut for holidays and week- ends, you lived here and stamped an imprint that the years will never wipe away. it was yours. You saw the green grass, and the massive grey waits, and you heard the echoes in the hausg you grew into a part of every grass hiade, every piece of granite, and the wood and steel of this schooi pieced together and you knew them to he in your hones. You might have sneered ahout spirit as a thing that never existed. Qn top you did. A smooth show of maturity and maniinessg heiow this top layer, though, every last one of us feeis the tingle piercing our spines, when a dis- jointed strain of Alma hftater quivers through the air, and rous into the depths of the auditorium, across the far-Hung halts, or across the hrown turf of the foothau stadia. Vxfe stop as though shotg thousands of hoys feet the huge spirit, and are wrapped into it as one, moiding unspoken words in a throhhing union. The crumpled hat hes on the hed. Red and hiacic. It is ci living, eternal symhol of De Vviti Clinton.

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r ff' I 4. 35 il vu , . .... .. .. Ill- N XX kj ' U , f 7165 Lateness is a trait quite scorned By teachers in their classes. But when the teactierys late, O boy! How quicfz that lesson passes.