Franklin K Lane High School - Senior Echoes Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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AIThough They looked so much alike people offen misTook Them for sisTers, Alice had always been more popular af school and had more daTes Than her besf friend. Whenever Anne had one of her moods , Alice had been able To snap her ouT of iT. Even by mail, her old friend had been able To bring a spark of cheer To The small aparTmenT. Anne puT The lasT dish on The shelf and puT ouT The lighT in The miniaTure kiTchen. A reflecTion of The sTrange sfifled feeling swepf over her, and she hurriedly closed The door and prepared To go To bed. The room seemed Too silenT, excepT for The slow, sTeady Tick of The alarm clock on The Table. WhaT's wrong wiTh me TonighT? she asked herself, impafienfly Tugging aT The sleeve of her bafhrobe. I'll Take an aspirin and go righT To sleep insTead of reading. Tomorrow I'll be fine, and l won'T jump aT my own shadow. She puT one small whiTe TableT inTo her mouTh, Then reached for a boTTle and Took anofher. .She snuggled down befween The cool sheefs and Turned off The small lamp nexT To The sTudio couch. Immediafely The warm oppressive air swooped down aT her, and around her, leaving her gasping. Don'T be so silly, Annie , she said aloud. You've really goT a bad case of iiTTers. BuT she couldn'T laugh off The sTrangling, TighTening ThaT was gagging her. She lay back and Tried To sleep, Tossing This way and ThaT, vainly Trying To rid herself of her TormenTor. Finally, wifh beads of perspirafion Trickling coldly down The back of her neck, she goT up and snapped on The lighT. She opened The door, and wenT down The hall To The Telephone To call Dr. Bafes. She puT down The receiver wiTh a sigh of relief. l-le would be over in an hour, as soon as he finished his hospifal rounds. When Anne Rogers re-enTered The aparTmenT, she did noT see The man aT firsT- he was sTanding aT The opposiTe side of The room, fingering a small leaTher handbag, examining iT closely. Oh! gasped Anne, as The scarred face looked up. Then, WhaT do you wanT? Gef ouT of here!l as he flung The bag aside, and puT his hand inTo his pockef. He walked across The room and closed The door: Then sTood wiTh his back To iT, facing Anne. So you're The lousy dame who senT Bender up? l-le smoThered her weak proTesT wiTh, You been playin' hard-To-geT, ain'T you? Well, Today I caughf up wiTh you on 43rd STreeT, and Tailed you here. Anne was in a frenzy of fear. BuT, you're misfaken. l'm---. ShuT up. Save your breafh, sis, because in iusT Ten seconds you're goin' To need iT. The noise won'T boTher you neifher. This silencer will TTx ThaT. l-le whipped a revolver ouT of his pockef, and poinTed iT aT Anne. Oh no, no, no, you'rei . Anne felT The sfing of The lead as iT pierced her flesh. Then The hoT blood bubbling up and choking her. She drew a breafh, buf iT was blood, hoT and heavy where iT sTuck in her Throaf. Her hearT gave a final sickening lurch, and The blackness came closer and closer, down and around her, Till finally iT closed in forever. As he Turned ouT The lighT and closed The door, The moon rose high over The ciTy, and in her paTh looked down on 320 W. l25Th ST., ApT. BZ. There on The floor of The large room was a small leafher handbag, and on iT, in shining gold, gliTTered The inifials A. R. MeTa Moore I2 SENIOR ECHOES

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TO A FRIEND Can I begin by calling you a friend? Your love and kindness mean much more To me Than iusl' The common Triendship which does end In pain, and sorrow, and humiliTy. For you who share so Treely whaf is yours, And love your Tellow man as God does ask, For you who smile, and Thus make IighT my chores. And make The hardesf work a meager Task, Could I buT Tind The proper words of praise, I-low Then would Shakespeare look in jealousy AT clever eulogy and Turn oT phrase, And lines To live Through all eTerniTy. BuT Io, I'm noT Trom common Tar aparT, And have no more To offer Than a loving hearT. William NesTor As Anne Turned The key and opened The door, The darkness seemed To reach ouT wiTh long grasping arms To enToId and smoTher her. She had a sTrange sensaTion of sTranguIaTion before The click of The IighT swiTch broughT a Tlood of reassurance To The dark corners oT The one-room aparTmenT. Funny, she'd never had any Tear of The dark before. AII ThaT overTime on The nighT shiTT is making me iumpy , she ThoughT. NexT monTh I'II be back on days again, and l'll feel beTTer. She puT her coaT away and sTarTed Toward The kiTcheneTTe To make a cup of coTIee. IT was Then ThaT she remembered The small blue envelope she had Taken Trom her mailbox downsTairs. LiTTing iT from her handbag, she smiled aT The round, childish wriTing ThaT spelled ouT: Miss Anne Rogers, 320 W. l25 ST., New York CiTy, N. Y. IT was a leTTer Trom her room maTe, Alice Ross, who was spending a well-earned vacaTion upsTaTe on her aunT's Tarm. Anne opened iT and read: . Annie Dear, Y lT's so good To be away from crowds and courTrooms. You know, I was beginning To eaT, sleep and drink lawyers, and Thieving murderers. I'm so Thankful ThaT ScoTT Bender goT all ThaT was coming To him. I read anoTher accounT OT The case This morning. Seems ThaT Bender will be hanged in June, -and all because OT my evidencel IT kind of worried me Tor awhile, wiTh some of his gang sTiIl loose, buT I'm a diTTerenT girl now, Annie. You should see The improvemenT This heavenly place has broughl abouT. Anne Tinished Alice's IeT+er, Tull oT gossip and bubbling over wiTh enioymenT, and TeIT a liITIe beTTer Tor iT. Alice Ross had always been The peppy halT of Their Team. JUNE I945 I I

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ELEOY WRITTEN IN LANE'S SENIOR OFFICE The Iasf bell folls The knell of parfing school day, The noisy herd wind slowly down lhe sfairs: The ianifor homewarcl plods his weary way, And leaves fhe school fo clubs and dance affairs. Now fades fhe fhrong of sfudenfs from my sighf And all fhe halls a solemn sfillness hold, Save where some sfudenfs linger on, nof quife Finished for fhe day, or so I'm fold. I puf away my pen as darkness hovers And breafhe a sigh for all fhe work I've done: I breafhe anofher sigh for all fhe bofhers Thaf nexf ferm's Senior class musf overcome. As wearily I walk along fhe hall, I spy each room, all closed and 'ocked fill morn: Buf in one room, a Lane youfh, sfrong and fall, Sifs wifh his head bowed and a face forlorn. I-lis Epifaph Here resfs his head upon a wooden school-desk A youfh, fo forfune and fo Lane unknown: Cruel science frown'd upon his humble bes+, For on his card he gof a fiffy-one. No farlher seek his miseries fo disclose Or mock his woes which now his hearf dismay: For we cannof disclaim fhaf fear which flows, Wifh English Regenfs nof so far away. lvlefa Moore TOMORROW AT LANE Sfep inside my fu'rurescope, said my good friend, Professor Jonafhan O. Kearns, and we shall fake a frip fo fhe world of I97O. Ah, good, I replied. I-low abouf visifing Lane-High? I'd love fo see whaf ii' will be like in fwenfy-five years. We can do fhaf, said fhe professor. Fasfen your safefy belf: 'rake a deep breafh. Now-mazahsl We are off! Suddenly fhere was a loud crash of fhunder and a blinding flash of lighf, and when I looked fo see whaf was happening, I found myself in a helicopfer wifh my friend, flying above a sfrange, new world. We were rapidly approaching a huge, glisfening skyscraper. I noficed fhe name Franklin K. Lane High School engraved above ifs fronf enfrance. Lane? I queried in amazemenf. Why, if couIdn'+ be! Lane cerfainly doesn'f look like fha'r! Buf af once I remembered fhis was fhe fufure. I was viewing fhe Lane of fomorrow! There was a landing field afop fhe beaufiful building, and fhe professor broughf JUNE I945 I3