Fenger Academy High School - Courier Yearbook (Chicago, IL)

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KENNETH ZOLLINGER Social Science 432 East ruth Place Phorexg Hall Guard, Courier Repr.g B.A.A.gz B.A.A. Bars, Baseball, B'k't- ballg R.O.T.C.g Fengcr News Staffg Drama Club, Sr. Hi-Yg N.C.O. Club. The Window Washer Maybe it's the rhythmic movement of his lithe body, and it may be the thrill of seeing the out- side againg but if for no other season than that he is something to watch, I delight in the window washer,s presence. Perhaps it is the sounds that he makes: the squish and dribble of the sponge and pail or the raucous squeaks from the squeegie that attract, or the way he dismantles a class. He enters, bumping his ladder and pail to- gether, clunking the utensils on the wall, as he passes the desk under the none-too-pleasant, crit- ical eye of the teacher, setting up the ladder, wringing out the sponge and getting to work. By this time the class is absorbed in his all-too- interesting gestures. The teacher tries vainly to bring her group back, but she knows it's a los- ing Hght, and sometimes if you watch closely, she'll snatch a glance for herself. By this time he is finished with the inside, and amid glances of awe opens windows long shut and climbs nimbly on the sill and hooks himself up. Gathering up the rest of her shattered forces, the teacher commands the class to read and the class reads between peeks, for nothing short of a fire-drill will end his power over it. Not until he clambers in, folds up his ladder, clanks his pail, and bumps his way out can the class return to matters of importance. With him goes all the interest, all the romance, all the glamour of the whole day, and those curi- ous sensations will not return until the day in the far-off future when he will again clunk and bump his way into the room. -EDWARD GEDGOUD, 4A Fires of My Gypsy October October, like a gypsy In a crimson, bespangled dress, Danced thru' our grove of maples With a flaming torch, I guess, For this morning when I found them, Every tree was a flaming red, And some sifty, ruddy embers On the royal aster bed. Page 24 The elderberry hedges Spread their misty fans of blue, Like the white-hot flames of the bonfires When the wind is blowing through. The golden poplars crackled Just like a merry, merry, dancing blaze, And the meadowla-nds were hidden By a shifting, drifting, smoky haze. And then I suddenly remembered That I heard all thru' the night A rustling like soft laughter While the harvest moon shone bright, And then I knew that Jack Frost's helpers, Whom he calls when he desires, Gathered last night in the meadows To light October's gypsy fires. ELLEN JENSEN, 4A. lst prize, Sen. Poetry, Courier Lit. Cont. We Hear A calm berceuse, A fantasy, A somber little prelude: We feel a tranquil sadness in This thoughtful interlude. 'Tis Chopin. We See A thin, ine, face, Deep brooding eyes, Long tapering ingertipsg A flicker of amusement Is hovering near his lips. 'Tis Chopin. We Feel A faint regret, We knew him not. I-Ie lived so long ago, Ah, yet his compositions live, ' Immortal Chopin dead? Not so! - MILDRED CARLETON, 4A

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4B Class Officers Robert XVintercorn Pff'Xitfl'7lf Loretta Kummercr Vive-Presirfwzl Eleanor Boak S1'crcIm'y Adelaide Green W Truasu rer i i Dune Nights The wonders of the dunes, their beauty and wildness have been described by many writers, but many forget the enchanting effect of the duneland nights. The beauty of the day and the glamour of the sunset combine to form Won- drous twilights. As one climbs the hills to the beach, leaving the heat of the day behind, each step brings into view wider and wider expanses of gorgeously painted sky till finally moodful and ever-changing Lake Michigan lies below. The bright stars but shortly precede the glowing jewels encircling the curve of the lake. The sand made hot and eye-searing by the sun is trans- formed to a shimmering, cool, white cloak by the moon. The charging waves, with all their wildness and power, their white banners flying above the dark water, crack on the shore. It is only natural that the trivial events and banter of the day drop away leaving the mind in a recep- tive state for thought-silence seems to speak louder than the sounds of the day. Finally one is lulled to sleep, his strength redoubled for the work of the next day. LPETER VANDER PLOEG, 4B Hon. Ment., Sr. Prose, Courier Lit. Cont. Being Friends There's happiness in Ending friends, As we travel to and fro, And there's gladness too in making friends, as on through life we go, But the blessedness that never ends, is the daily joy of just being friends. -DoLoREs SIBBERT, 4B. 4B Class The ancients believed that there was an un- known power that drove men on to their destiny. But we in later years believe that it is not this, but it is the action and imagination of our youth that prompts us to take up our course across the great u-nknown. The immortal Shakespeare said, Our faults lie not in our stars but in ourelvesf' Are We 4B's heeding the warnings that bring to us specters of the grim reality of the future? Are we looking upwards to the top of the stairs or is our sight confined to only the next step? Do we consider that life in reality is to be a repetition of our time spent in securing an edu- catiofn, or are We forming a foundation upon which we are to lay the corner-stones of our career? Shall we be able to solve the problems of life as we are now solving our petty problems which loom so large to us now? Are we making this an im- portant step in our development or are we just filling our minds with facts and calling it a gen- eral education? When the familiar doors and cor- Pagc 26 ridors of Fenger High fade away to be replaced by the stern doors of life, shall we let others form our destinies or shall we use this thing called an education as a hammer in the hands of Thor to open these doors of life. We 4B's will have one more glorious fling as 4A's here at Fenger. We plan to make it a suc- cessful and beneficial period of our lives and not just another toll-bridge in the so-called trail of destiny. As we progress socially, we must realize that our companions of today are not just people of the present but that they are the likeness of our future associations. How many of us consider that our athletic achievements are not just an element in our lives but rather accomplishments in a class in nature's school? 4B classes of the past have accomplished great things. They have seemingly finished school, their foundation of life, with a keen eye for the future. We, in our pres- ent capacity, must do the same! -CHARLES PIIGGINS, 4B. PETER VANDERPLOEG, 4B.