Forster Secondary School - Spartalogue Yearbook (Windsor, Ontario Canada)

Page 22 text:

•THE SPARTALOGUE” — 1959 Page Twenty-One ♦ ♦♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ it ♦ t ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ DO YOU DREAM? HAVE YOU EVER DREAMED ABOUT THE DAY YOU WOULD BE A TOP EXECUTIVE OR THE SECRETARY TO A TOP EXECUTIVE? You Have? Excellent! However, dreaming or imagining alone won ' t get you there. Don ' t be satisfied with mediocrity. Is the best too good for you? You bet it isn ' t! Then why be satisfied with anything less than the best, when the best is so easy to attain, if you want it enough? Graduating in BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION or EXECUTIVE SECRETARIAL work at the WINDSOR BUSINESS COLLEGE is the quickest, surest and least expensive method of making your dream come true. HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATES, INVESTIGATE BEFORE YOU DECIDE ! We heartily welcome your call for full information about either of these courses. TRAIN IN THE SCHOOL THAT WILL DO THE MOST FOR YOU! WINDS R. J. SERVICE, Principal Bank of Montreal Building 15 Chatham Street East ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ■f ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Page 21 text:

Page Twenty •THE SPARTALOGUE” — 1959 A TRIP TO STRATFORD One of the most successful events of the school year was the trip which some of our upper school students took to Stratford, Ontario this fall. Three bus-loads of students from grades eleven, twelve, and thirteen saw King Henry 4lh Part 1 performed at the Shakespearian Theatre there. The travellers spent the four-hour journey each way by eating, playing cards, and singing. Grade Twleve A even managed to produce a ukelali. We ate our lunch on the theatre grounds in Stratford, sharing our sandwiches with the sleek swans that hovered near the shore of the Avon River. Then we hurried to the theatre building proper to find our seats, as we had been sternly ordered not to be late. We found a striking, modern building, constructed on the round, with a flanged top and a multitude of glass doors. The lobby walls were hung with pictures of the actors. Another row of glass doors led into the main body of the theatre. Our seats were on the main floor, well toward the stage—very good seats we thought, settling into them carefully. There didn ' t seem to be much foot-room. Later we learned that every seat in the house is good. The stage seemed odd. A flat platform jutted out into the theatre, just three steps from the auditorium floor. The seats wrapped themselves around three sides of this rostrum. On the fourth side was a complicated arrange¬ ment of stairways, entrances, and a balcony. There were two more entrances, one below where we were sitting, and one across from us. There was no curtain to be seen. The whole stage was painted dull grey. It all looked rather drab—not what we had expected at all. We heard the long-anticipated sound of trumpets, the lights dimmed, and suddenly the bare stage was filled with colour, sound and movement. The productions at Stratford are carefully planned to the last detail. This planning shows especially in the costumes and the movements of the actors. In the battle scenes, players rushed up and down the aisles, making the students in the outer seats duck. Those swords seemed very authentic—and very close. No one could have wanted a more enthusiastic audience than we were. We cheered jolly Falstaff whenever he appeared and mourned his passing away when we thought he had been killed. We clapped and laughed at the tavern scene, thrilled to the clang of swords during the battle, and enjoyed every minute of it. After the per¬ formance, the director came out and answered our questions about the production. He complimented us on being a most receptive audience and said that very likely these special matinees for secondary schools would be repeated next year. Beyond question, all of us who saw Henry 4th will want to repeat a wonderful experience. —Mary Holden, 1 2A. ASSEMBLIES Forster ' s assembly program this year was distinguished by both quality and quantity. Pep assemblies seemed to be desired by the majority of the students, because of the fine performances of our teams throughout the year, and because of the efforts of a small but active Pep Club . 13A presented a skit in which they crowned Miss School Spirit . Boys from the senior class, in fancy costumes, represented each school in the city, and a Queen School Spirit was elected by the students. The applause meter showed that Connie? Conrick as Miss Forster won the competition hands down. 12A, with the help of students from all classes, pre¬ sented an assembly depicting student excuses for failure to attend basketball games. Ann Steer kept an eye on Barry Pepper, industrious Doug Brown mowed yards of stage, and pretty Nan Grey was carried away. Doug Howell outplayed himself as the M.C. in this spectacular presentation directed by Milan Crepp. 1 2B also presented a variety show for the amusement of all Spartans. Dolores Grondin acted as M.C., intro¬ ducing such performers as Liz Kulik, singer; Carmen Eaton, juggler; and the Forster Meat Packer ' s pet horse. She herself danced as the Happy Vagabond . We would like to thank all the people who contributed to the Assemblies. CHRISTMAS ASSEMBLY The Christmas Assembly is always the climax of the fall term. This year Too Much Christmas , a play in two acts, was presented by Miss Weller. It starred Eddy Hyttenrauch, John Blacklock, Irene Marshall and Brian Trothen. The choir sang three numbers under Mr. MacDonald ' s able direction, with Silent Night as the climax. All combined to make this a very enjoyable occasion.

Page 23 text:

Page Twenty-Two THE SPARTALOGUE — 1959 MEMORABLE NIGHT Along the decks they amble gaily With only care of what to do, The game of skill and sport are over And now they must invent anew. Let ' s watch the path the ship is cutting (That sparkling spray of foam!) Or count the stars that glow o ' erhead— No night like this at home. Among the many faces there Not one could ever guess That soon they ' d find their final home— Their final home of rest. Dash it all, what have we here? You say the ship is sinking? It cannot be; it must not be: The danger light ' s not blinking! So many died, so many failed To grasp at life ' s fast-fading hand, Yet no remorse, regretting now Can help the members of that band. What can it be that in men ' s minds They dare to tempt the mighty gods? It cannot be; it must not be: Or else be victims of the odds. AND THEN THERE WAS ONE The date is August twenty-seventh, nineteen fifty-eight. The setting is a United States Air Force base in the Mojave Desert of New Mexico. The place is a glass-walled control tower, crowded with military dignitaries, and scientists. The occasion is the first attempt of a jet plane to shatter the confines of the earth ' s atmosphere. From the control tower of the air base the viewers can see the poised profiles of two sleek United States Air Force experimental rocket X-9 aircraft. The planes are a bee¬ hive of activity as technicians and mechanics scurry to and fro making the customary last minute checks and test s. The picture changes as the broad expanses of runway become remarkably void of movement as the wail of a siren signals that the runway area must be cleared for action. Now, only two men stand beside each plane, one to help the pilot into the cockpit and the other to remove the ponderous blocks from the airplane ' s wheels. Two test pilots emerge from some unknown area and walk side by side towards the needle-nosed metal birds on the runway. Their faces are not taut with anxiety; instead their warm human laughter at some personal joke seems to shatter the tense atmosphere of silence which has prevailed. Indeed, as the two pilots strode to their planes and climbed into the cockpits one could not help wondering where and what human emotions lay cloaked beneath the plastic bubble of their oxygen masks and the bloated swellings of their thermal flying suits. Were they really as calm as they seemed; or was their stoical app earance and laughter a mere cloak for human fear? A blaring loudspeaker once more motivated a burst of activity. The runway was cleared for flight and the control operator gave the okay for take-off. One, then the other hurtled down the runway at screaming speeds until the noses arched upwards and wheels no longer touched our world. The first plane wheeled in a broad circle ' till the two were at the same altitude; then they disappeared into the haze of the afternoon sky. All eyes were then turned to the scopes and dials of electronic tracking devices, while on the runway trucks with mobile antennas started tracing the flight of the two planes. Meanwhile, the co-ordination control centre locked and guarded its doors for security reasons and was en¬ gaged in a wave of furious action. Plotting reports from radar and detection apparatus were relayed on to the scopes in the co-ordination center room, revealing the altitude at which the planes were flying. One minute, two minutes, five minutes, ten minutes went by until finally the planes could be detected no longer. They had flown through the atmosphere. The co-ordination center announced this via the loud speakers and pandemonium broke loose. Men slapped each other on the back and shouted phrases of jubilance. But in the control center room there was cause for alarm. After one minute the scopes had again begun to track the planes. True, enough, there were the blips on the scopes. But anxiety turned to stark fear and amazement, for now there was one. —Jean Holdsworth, 13A. —Arthur Armstrong, 13A.