Eleanor McMain High School - Echoes Yearbook (New Orleans, LA)

 - Class of 1945

Page 37 of 68


Eleanor McMain High School - Echoes Yearbook (New Orleans, LA) online yearbook collection, 1945 Edition, Page 37 of 68
Page 37 of 68

Eleanor McMain High School - Echoes Yearbook (New Orleans, LA) online yearbook collection, 1945 Edition, Page 36
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Page 37 text:

A Q . .a rf- if5"ff 2' f' i ' ' i K ' .T ",1"ffff."3A "'wfi"J'f fjeT.f.'l'ii .-rE .ff5i' i 4 if7 'ff-iiiliilfii'ff':5b'.E'f7's ,-15-'f5uL.1 1' 'S ,,,- , i ' , .A ' ' . - ' - in 1 7--flag - - . . 5 ,- ,fafgjry D , S ld' D 'times since the mail came, HI- OCS A O 1Cf I' C3111 . eyening, that he ,didn't have. to' the writing to know exactly W'hat'iiliQiffi1.29 ,. . . . - ,-'-'.-. said. He knew it d1dn't say all .off -A-1535.25 , By Shirley Siegel evening after supper. Yes, Dad was the things She wanted it to SaYS'hQ5'?'-diff: - getting old nowg his hair was turning knew hvw . to 1-'Gad things' iUl?0 it! THE moon seemed to stand still. Its gray and the twinkle in his me,-ry though, and he knew that shemeant I 'f1'Q7i,e soft light spread over the inces- blue eyes was growing dim, but he them to be them' They had 'always ' N -'NFL sant Pacific. the pale beach, and up across the full brown tents. In the soft, unreal night. the pyramidals looked like aboundant shocks of corn. Rv the wire near the beach, a rangy soldier lay on his back. his banjo on his stomach awkwardly strumininor on the strings. He pecked out sin'I'e notes and sent them whining into the night. He could hear the men in the tents checking and recheckiwr their efiuinment. He wanted to write a letter home. but knew he couldn't nut the things he felt on paper. There was no wav of describing the uncer- taintv' and loneliness. They were shipping out in the mornineq, and no on.e knew where they were going or what they would find there. It was a winter's moon on a tropical hear-la. naradoxically warm to them, enticing. yet its unfamiliar light was disturb- ing. He was playing "My Old Ken- tucky Home" and the bitter notes that came from the banjo were like a young Negro whose memory holds tragedies he has inherited but never known-"For my old Kentucky home +far away." . ' Andnthere he lay, strumming his banjo, and dreaming of home. The little house on'a curving street facing the hills was a beautiful sight all year around, but in the winter, when the fir trees wear white collars and the shadow of the fence is purple on the drift, when the birds take tiny stitches in the snow and our 'footprints hurry toward the house as dusk draws nigh, there is an enchant- ing, and unforgettable warmth of home. The warmth of home, its fragance, coming from the outside- from the winter air-the waiting look the rooms have-the dining room where the little blue cupboards with pretty things are in the corners! The was still the best companion, the truest friend, the only--Dad. And then, there was Mom at the station kissing him good-byg trying hard to keep from crying, but as he boarded the train, he could see tears in her eyes, shining like drops of rain in the sun. The train pulled out and from the back platform he saw her tiny handkerchief dab at her eyes as she strained forward lest she miss the last glimpse of the train. And those goodies! Everyone enjoyed them so. Gee, Mom surely is a good cook! She knows just what a fellow likes. She was always working so hard to please everybody, but you didn't think about that 'until you were away from home and you couldn't ask for your favor- ite pie and, presto, at supper time there it is before you. You just don't appreciate anything until you've lost it. . But it isn't gone forever. Some day he'll be back home in that old corn- er room with the school pennants that Mom has kept so neat and ready. Heid been eating K rations for so long that he no longer thou-ght of fried chicken, salads' or cake, except at the peak of a growing description of things longed for. He thoughtnof fried eggs and crisp strips of bacon sizzling in -. hot grease, the aroma penetrating the thickest walls to drift under one's nose and arouse him from his quietest slumber. He could remember the way the green linole- um was worn by the sink, he could -hear the radio playing and see 'the evening paper droppedf under the light at the end of the blue divan. These are some of the little things he looks forward to. For it's the little things-the small familiar pleasures -that to him, as to all of us, add up to home. ' i - understood each other ever since they had been very young. Then he was caught in a 'whirlpool of imagi- nation that sent him spinning back to dreamland. She was a quiet kid with a small face and her eyes were soft, sort of like a kitten's. He never thought anybody could- ever feel the' way he did about some things. And here was another per- son, even if it was a girl. They had grown up together-loving and un- derstanding. Once in a while they'd go to the movies 'with the gang, but lots of times, they'd just stay home and play checkers or go over the old Latin. They had planned everything just as it should be' and when he gets back, there'll be newer, finer ways of enjoying the land he fought for. Maybe he will have his post- war meals in pink and purple pills: maybe he'll swoosh to work in a rock- et car-maybe so! But there are ,a few things that eleven million G. Ig Joes want to find just as they left them-just as they've dreamed about them through all these long months. Such as the unchanging love of the girl who waited and the corner room, and the old fireplace and America. He knows what America means now. He had known her rivers be- fore, her towns and her slow climbing mountains. He had learned the places where Ehe could go and Where he could not go, but after serving her, he knew there was no place that was not his, no part of America that was not his. 'A little courage had earned him that right, because rights arexnot granted. No group of men can grant other men rights of any kindg they are achieved and acknowledged. He had achieved .them because he recog- nized them in himself. There is nothing at home he' wanted that he H Q Jil' ' '.gf'j K. eat: . , Y J. X :L ' . ,.. . , M.. -. -My 'fi ...., 'i A i r . 'fif- . 5. . Q2 N . . .Fqji-ii :Tiff Wi .' 'fy I!-Hifi .- .- , ... i.. .ly H -c I.. v.. n ,,-i. -1 .x ey Z' . w-,::x '. - 'Cf' P' It ,W I, " .15 rf 55.1 f .c fi -',f- 1 -- - . ' .V.',. ' . ' 3' ii' .3 .Alf .4 . U, . ' 'J'- . , .afgf ! , 41,1 ' ,. wiv .- 'vi- viiiq. ?j Q! X " gal f 3'f."i u. 1.2 I '1-li ' .7 ,l- i . ,-.ra . ' jff- '.1 ri -,f- ff.. I K p . .1,,wg,. . 55 ii., .wit ' .- -1-Ki' 'E--51 ' X 4: . V ,Z mi 4. l - .. sf- -"Fi . Fil K, ' 1 K, 5, K 'iid' i ul Lg, , Fifi . .f .s,. 1' "W filf ' 'V . 7 'xiii . -:iff .. :in-i : 'I "EQ . ' .1 4 ' .15"! ! , 1. I I' in .- si' 5 . J? -ri . 1- -r" I f 'TT' .E ' 3515 If I. 'vi 1' z .lim .- q.L'.'. ', 'Q :ti-. ,g . -fi f ' 'iii- I'-f M- :I gl.-r . living room with its huge fireplace An 'alert sounded, and ' he had not had here. There was no iff is where he had popped corn and roast- scrambled to his feet, clutching his charity of mind, no freedom oft + ed apples .as a kid. And there, banjo in his hands, but the planes thought,!no denial ofworship, no, 'V ,QE sprawled out, in front of the fire- were friendly -and seconds later the hungeixunwillingly shared: there wasp, A'A. place is the deerskin he got on that all clear blew. Kickingaside the co- no one who was abject in the faceof if last hunting trip with .Dad. ,Good coanuts and dead frondis, leaning duty. These things he knew,he.liad xg old Dad, he remembers him best, sit- against the gray, broken trunk of a gained, deeply and unendinglygas' ify..j . ,ting before the fireplace smoking his tree, he pulledxa rumpled letter from they had beenirevealed iii the ,blq9,d'-j- 4 j pipe Sand reading the -paper in the his pocket. He had read it so many of his veins. someday he will . . ' . e i .Q f "'. i HGH-.0-E-S i . i r c a i f - i lfbfrfrfiesie. -,". ,.., , , ' ",' q YFFJ''tiffQ4--ima"-w.iflf-f'Ei'-4L1173:1-rg-fx ,',' I I 5-W" Self? 1 - , 1 "'Qff."-k'iQ,"f'ff.' .-'. J I 4. .-,H.Q,P7'f,4"., '.g-f'i"'7L"Z'E3 1 , -j e3 g. Q3 , g5 ss. 2.53-,.-J' pg,-3 ,,:.:1?3e:F-1-c.' A ,,,,.,K,1:--I. j 1.95.1 x .1,v,J.,,'v 4..g'g . -5 , -' .A s cf.. - ,warm . - . w.:K,-31, 'mf g 3 3-.Q "ii"-Q!- ' 'i " -- 1 'L ' --5 ' - " .3 ' 4+ , i'iPf9:s'n'--'T"-'-Fir.-l"f.fE'ig.-21535.'.'e.:f.a:J..,-EW E-:ps i .ri-l'-.-","f? : -.lex-LJ Args- vii . Q. -fiifr .. 5-U49 .' i .- .1 me .g rew-" 'if - 1t.f511..- ,' .2P'lE'f--'ff:46'-- --.ffl--F"H .4 l. , .. . c, c... ,.iY,Cm.,,:,Et3.'g55ig..-3,.,g..,d.. .5 -+!,3,,.ir.Fgf5j.,-2-Esta, .Qi-' Ayr, vy ,5.,,..,,j,,,.srfj.:.Qf-feel? 1-x... aff.. .-.-,1,,,!AI,.l,g..,g l, 1 if.. X

Page 36 text:

and ..-greeted' ' her ' with, where'd you like to It really doesn't matter to me, Mr. Farrand. It seems you've al- ready planned almost everything with Mother," she replied coolly. ' "'Well, go along, dearg have a good time and I'll not wait up for you," put in her mother as the two left. Several hours later, Helen re- turned, angry and more bitter than ever. As she left her escort at the door, sheicily thanked him for a ,"lovely" evening. She undressed and, exhausted, threw herself in bed, immediately going to sleep. The next morning during break- fast, her mother asked if she had had a nice time the night before. "No, Mother, I didn't. I just can't enjoy that man's company, and please, if he calls again, don't tell him I'll go out with him." "Yes, dear, only, I wish you weren't so bitter. He would make a wonderful son-in-law," was her mother's' innocent remark. "Mother, I haven't'even the slight- est intention of seeing him again, much less .giving him the chance to propose!" Helen answered, amazed. She swallowed her cup of coffee and left for work, thus implying that the subject of Mr. Farrand was definitely closed. During the next few days, Mr. Farrand's name was not mentioned, but a certain Mr. Harry Clarke's was, quite a' few times. He took Helen out nearly every' night and she seemed to be wonderfully happy dur- ing the time. He was a promising young man, for he had started at the ,bottom as a stock boy at Farrand's and had worked himself up to the best shoe salesman' in his depart- ment. ' One night, both Helen and Harry had stayed at the store for a Christ- mas Eve party and Harry had told Helen he- would take her home. It gcould 'easily be seen that young Tom Farrand had had a little too much ,to drink. He was now swaggering .toward them wi-th his eyes bleary bloodshot. I A - j 7ff"Mishter Clarke, 'could I sheeyou :ajninutel in' the other room?" .he asked.. f1g ,V . .K Q ff'Yes,f Farrandff replied,Harry and ,turning ,to Helen., 'he 'told her to get -'rvL.'.,s r -- her coat and hat and he would be with her in a 'few minutes. . As she stood inside the door wait- ing, she saw that the city was in for a "White Christmas." There were already a few flakes drifting down and the cold stiffness of the air showed that the snow wouldn't be long in coming. She pulled her coat tighter around her and shivered a little as the door opened for some- one, admitting a burst of cold air. She wondered what was keeping Harry and decided to go back to the room where the party was ting to be very noisy. There asked if anyone had seen Harry, was 'told that Harry and Tom gone into the adjoining room hadn't returned. She went to get- she and had and the door and heard Harry's voice faint- ly above the rabble of the party. He was saying, "You did steal that money from the cash register, didn't you?" "Yes, but you'l1 never tell any- one. No, sir, I'll see to that. You may think I'm dead drunk, but I can still see straight enough to see that you won't ever tell Grandfather or anyone. You won't even live long enough to propose to Helen. I'm go- ing to marry her, understand. Pm going to marry her!" At this moment Helen pushed the door open just in time to see Tom seize a heavy decoration from the wall and start to bring it down with murderous force. But as he caught sight of Helen, he dropped his heavy implement and stared. "You're going to marry Whom?" she asked. ' ' As he turned toward her, Harry took advantage of his opportunity and 'knocked him out. He sank to the floor unconscious and Harry opened the door, calling to the night watchman, "Hey, come take care of this fellow, will you?" Sobbing and trembling, Helen was clinging to Harry. "It's all right, honey," he said, "Let's go home." V When Helen had regained her self- composure, she asked' Harry what had happened in the room. "Well," Harry replied, 'fhe asked me, as you know, to come into that room for a minute. He insisted that- he was going to -take yourhorneg but I told him that he had another thought coming." "But why didn't he ask me him- self instead of. gding to you'f'?Q.,'fiii?P31 quired Helen. - - A I g ., Q-I 1' if, "'He knew' you would never con- sent to it. I guess maybe' he thought he would bully me intofletf ting him do it. His main purpose" was to propose to you! In fact, he even showed me a two-thousand,-dob lar engagement ring he had for you!" "A two-thousand-dollar engage- ment ring!" exclaimed Helen. 7 I "Yes, and that's when I became suspicious. He wastes so much that he would never have money to buy a thing like that. Besides, the store missed 52,000 from one of the cash registers last week and no one but Mr. T. G. Farrand the' First had a key. Since he was out of town, I guessed that young Tom must have taken the key and stolen the money. When I accused him of it, he knew he was trapped, and if you hadn't interfered, he would have killed me." . X By the time they reached Helen's home, a heavy snow was falling and it was after midnight. "Helen, do you know what time it is?" Harry questioned. , - "No," was the reply, "but it must be pretty late." "It's after midnightg it's now Christmas Day. Merry' Christmas, darling!" he said as he slipped a tiny diamond solitaire on her finger. "Merry Christmas, . Harry!" she whispered with her heart in her eyes. - i.li Favorite Entry fContinued from page 311 "That's Helen, Mickey's wife. She just came to town and when -we found that out, I told them to stay here until we could find a place for them. That is 'all right isn't it?" "Of course, George! "Those spies will be tried in a few days." - I ,'-'Oh, please, may I go to the trial?" NGO? Why, Ellen, you're going to be one of our prize witnesses!" - So you see, Dear Diary, this'isn,'t the end. forgotten and I' won't be able-fto. trust my memory, I'll hayeleitmall 7 n I - ' After everyone else has down pat in you. - ' ' fi Heavenly days! Now I liavelto Helen and. Mickey an,iapartm,entlf.

Page 38 text:

was ag , . . - Q -ef -1 fill ti.-fiqwffftgf ' ':f.-Q1:w.?T-11-is.-ff 1 '.-g- . .. , - X them with those who are near and dear to him. That would be in a farther future, a quieter time among familiar things, when grass will spring from the earth as if it' came from some boundless source. He will wait for it, knowing, it will be his, for as he had known the face of America, he knows now her heart and her spirit. ' Suddenly hewas brought back to reality and he smiled to himself as the ripples on the beach seemed to echo-"My Old Kentucky Home- Far Away." Casey A HEAVY curtain of smoke arose as the fog of early morning lay like a blanket over the bloody battle- field, where watchful men were try- ing to penetrate the soupy atmos- phere about them. No sound was heard except the distant thunder of anti-aircraft at the front and the closer groans and cries of -the woun- ded. In the trenches and behind the lines, medical men were moving with quick efficiency as the stretcher bearers carried in the slightly wound- ed cases which could be patched up under fire. The more seriously wounded were carried back to the hospital, if possible, or treated as best they could be under the present conditions. As the smoke slowly as- cended, the firing began and soon the noise of machine gun and rifle took the place of the death-like quiet- ness preceding. Like the bouncing up of a jack-in- the-box when the lid is raised, a huge red setter leaped from a distant shell crater and made his way quickly but carefully across the field in the 'di- rection of the front trench. On his back was strapped, a small leather case containing a message for the lieutenant in the trench. The dog, sensing that his appearance was a goodtarget for snipers, ran as close to the ground as possible. At inter- vals, if the shooting became extreme- ly difficult to dodge, and if he were near a foxhole, he would drop into it until the shooting slackened and he was able to proceed amid slighter disturbances. Within a few feet of the trench the force ofan exploding hand grenade near-by, knocked him down andlcovered him with the dirt that had been torn from the earth Thirty-.fix X with the explosion. He lay for a min- ute beneath the debris, not hurt, but only stunnedg then with a final burst of strength he ran for the comfort- ing shelter of the trench, which he gratefully accepted. He was exhausted, and as the mes- sage was removed from its case and an answer written, he lay on the hard dirt floor of the trench with his chin on his paws, and let his mind wander back to his home. He had come to the family as a tiny, silky red pup with long ears and big paws. They called him "Casey,," not for the famous Casey Jones, but because that name seemed suited to him. He was, you know, an Irish setter, though at first everyone doubted it. But as he grew older, he became slim and graceful and indeed lived up to his name. His face, long and well shaped, had a proud, arro- gant, rather superior look and his eyes were alert and watchful. His ears never dropped, even in scolding, but held themselves erect defiantly. His hair was silky and thick and of a rusty reddish color. His tail, long and forever wagging, resembled the plume of a fashionable lady's hat. Casey was loved by-the family and all who knew him, yet he was feared and respected by the dogs and cats of the neighborhood. For it was his joy to fight with the dogs or 1'un the cats up a tree. But if he were scratch- ed or hurt in some way, he allowed no one to doctor him. He was his own physician and healer. Above ev- erything else, Casey loved hunting. Just the removal of the shot gun or twenty-two rifle from the closet would send him into hysterical bark- ing, and if the words, "How about it, Casey, let's go hunting . . . ?" were spoken, his joy was limitless. He could roam through the woods for hours, never tiring, treeing squirrels or chipmunks and chasing rabbits or even cows, if he could find nothing betterq Finally arriving home again, wearily but triumphantly, Casey al- Advice Hazel Muller, Post Graduate Build you castles in the air, Plant your thoughts with flowers fair, Pave your roads -with sbining truth, Start your life in dreaming youth. ways carried' in his mouth one ofthe- prizes, which he proudly lay before the family. Then one calm Sunday evening the peaceful life came to an 'abrupt end. The United States was at war with Japan. The men and boys every- where were joining some branch of the service. Two from Casey's family went, one never to return-and then they decided to let Casey go, too. The next six months were the most difficult in Casey's life. He was taught, not to be loving 'and gentle, as he had been at home, but to be suspicious of everyone. He was taught to run under heavy fire, to jump over deep ditches and high walls. For the first time in his life Casey also learned what it was to be hungry and thirsty. But he survived the rigid tests and landed smack in the middle of trouble, spelled N-A-Z-I. His train of thoughts were inter- rupted with the placing of the mes- sage in its case on his back. Once more he began his slow progress back over the field. His former thoughts of home were far away and he con-- centrated only on getting back to his shell hole. But halfway over, lady luck deserted him and a bullet hit him in the chest. And, amid in- tense pain, he seemed to gain a strange new strength and reached the safety of his original shell crater. After removing the message, the men tried to ease his pain, but he would have no part of that. I-Ie looked at them solemnly, then with a sort of apologetic look on his intelligent face, closed his eyes never to reopen them again. Of the men standing around, more than one had a tear in. his eye and a lump in his throat for their faithful friend who had given his life to successfully carry a message. In a small plot, beneath a tiny mound near the hospital, lies the body of the courageous setter, and over the grave on a wooden .slab these words appear: "He's dead. Ohl' Lay 'him gently in the ground , And may his tombgbe by this verse renowned. Here Casey, the pride of all his kind, is laid 4 Who fauned like man, but ne'er like man betrayed." . Betty Burch, ,'45. E-C4HfO-E75 " ' I - m - if . V ' , :. . ' ' ' -- A , -' '-. - ..kl1'f:'-f'fSf-7: 11.--i-.2 els. 41:5-if-.. - 2 . - - i r . ' V - . 1 . 5 - -13 Q,-elif-'1ii57't" - ww- .:.f.--- J - --., ,-. f-.-' : ' .-. . 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