Gardiner Area High School - Quill Yearbook (Gardiner, ME)

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8 THE QUILL Perspiration streamed from his face a. the full force of the sun,s heat hit him Dana brought out a handkerchief and wiped away the perspiration, realizing he'd better be moving on if he was to return to his car by dusk. He shifted his fishing pole to his other hand and with a medium fast pace moved from the clearing into the shady protection of the trees. It was dusk when he returned to his car, parked on the old dirt road. The night brought small relief from the heat of the day, for it had a dry warm breeze. Dana finished lighting his cigarette, blew out the flame of the match, snapped it in half with his fingers and then ground it into the dirt with his heel. He stood by the car for a while watching the night cover the forest. Far off he heard the screech of an owl and another scream - the fate of a rabbit - the balance scales of nature. The stars were out in full array giving no hint of a coming storm, a storm that would be welcome. Dana, finishing his cigarette, which he also ground into the dirt, slid into his car and started on his way home with a satis- fied feeling. He had good reason to feel happy, for three large trout were resting in his creel. He closed his eyes for an in- stant and could almost taste the baked trout. Mom sure does a swell job on cook- ing fish, he thought - with which he quickly opened his eyes, realizing if he didn,t stay on the job of driving, he would- n,t be around to enjoy those fish. Now it is the month of September and Dana is returning to try his luck again in the field of fishing. It is a typical Septem- ber day, blue sky, a brisk breeze, and the kaleidoscopic colors of the trees - when suddenly the woodland silence is broken by Dana's car bumping along the dirt road. He had been delayed in making a return trip to his fishing hole because of the start of school. As Dana turned, or rather bounced around a bend, he noticed a sudden change. The shrubbery and pines were not as green as they usually were. He slowed the car and admired the autumn colors of the scat- tered trees, wondering why the pines and firs were so listless. An idea of what might be wrong hit Dana like a shot, but then he added that there was rain just last week! However, as he turned around another bend in the road, Dana saw that his uhunchf' had been right. Hundreds and hundreds of acres were burned! Plant and animal life had perished. Started by what? A match or cigarette tossed by a careless fisherman, most likely! Dana felt a sense of pride come over him. He could feel secure that none of his cig- arettes or matches had done this. He al- ways made sure they couldn't. Going on, Dana approached the spot - here he had left his car. He could hardly recognize it! Making his way carefully among the cemetery of trees, for he realized the danger of walking through a dead for- est, Dana soon stood by the once cool stream. All that was left was a stream bed, the shriveled bodies of fish and a young deer which had sought refuge from the flames. Dana stood there a while, hardly be- lieving this was true. But it was! Who could do a thing like this? He shook his head slowly and just as slowly made his way back to his car. As Dana started towards his car, his eyes chanced upon a badly burned piece of paper. He stooped and picked it up. As the sun beat down upon his head, Dana smiled wryly when he realized what it had once said: 4'Break matches, and '5Make sure cigarettes are out.', Sally-Ann Forsythe, '52 THE GOLDEN RULE Norman Shields walked along in the glare of the late afternoon sun. He walked quickly and looked up at the tall buildings, trying to forget how hungry he was. Suddenly he slipped, and glancing down to see what he had stepped on, saw a small, blue purse. He picked it up and looked at the identification. Miss lVIary Anderson 46 Maple Street Holyoke, Mass. He then took out the small roll of bills and counted out twenty-eight dollars. For just a moment he hesitated. Then he stepped de- terminedly into a small restaurant and ordered a full-course meal. When he had finished eating, it was getting dark and he had to walk four blocks to find a men's clothing store that was still open. l'Vith his purchases in his arms, he started for the dingy, little room where he had lived for the past three weeks. Tonight he could face the landlady and would not have to sneak up the stairs. Norman Shields sat on his narrow bed and looked at his packages. His stomach was full, his landlady was paid, he had a whole shirt, new shoes, and stockings with

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THE I am young, still it seems to me the phrase has a very truthful ring to it. I suppose freedom is a very difficult word to define properly and have everyone agree. The merchant in Gardiner, unable to park in front of his shop because of parking meters, compelled to take his car off the street at night by city ordinance, burdened by business and corporation taxes, forced to post ceiling prices and to abide by credit restrictions, may feel that he has little free- dom. The shoe factory employee, punching the time clock each morning, forced to drive to work at certain speeds, park in a certain place and surrender part of his wage in tax before he even receives it, may likewise feel abused. And so even the lad a little older than myself made to give up his home life and join a branch of the service may have lost sight of the true meaning of freedom. Webster defines freedom in this manner, Quality or state of being freef' but there is always a practical everyday meaning. Upon careful consideration we are apt to find that we are extremely lucky and very free. The shoeworker is free to own a car he drives at certain speeds because free men protect other free men. He doesn't have to be a shoeworker, he can work in a drug- store, a service station, or a foundry if he chooses. The merchant, after all, makes some profit, he doesnit have to pay a c'mob for protection, he doesn't have to give for the good of the partyug his prices are limited in order that other free men can buy on a free market, and he can live, buy, sell, or set up shop anywhere at all. And the lad a little older than myself is, in reality, certainly doing his part in actual proof that freedom concerns everyone. These lads are giving their time, courage, blood, and in all too many cases life itself, that they and we may remain free to be shoe- workers, merchants, or students by our own choice and not by decision of the state. We should all praise Heaven that our lives, our homes, and the air we breathe are as free as they are and realize that this government with all its faults is far better than any other form known today. Now these are the opinions of a student, but I have tried to say that even students should do all in their power by word, deed, and action to preserve this word that many older persons, all too often, kick around but do nothing about. I honestly believe that 'Treedom is everyone's job. -Verdell Jones. '55 QU ILL 7 MY JOURNEY I am a drop of water, born out of the sky, descending earthward with many other little raindrops. Striking the earth I bounce, land again, and run downhill with my com- panions. There are so many of us that pres- ently we make a brook, growing larger, as we cavort and frolic over the moss-covered stones. Often we slow almost to a stop in the midst of a mighty forest. I remember the times when everything is so peaceful- squirrels at play on the mossy banks, deer nibbling at twigs nearby, chirping birds fluttering from tree to tree - all these must be left behind as we go singing on to the sea. Our number has grown so that we now form a broad, deep river flowing through the brightness and gaiety of the many cities on our course. After a long time, we finally reach the sea - there to remain and rest until the mighty sun draws us upward to start the journey anew. Richard Harriman, ,52 VVITH WHAT WE HAVE If I had wings and feet so free As God has given bird and bee, Ifd fly away to be alone W To find a place all of my own. I'd build a world up in the blue With castles, houses, mansions, too, For neighbors I would choose my own, And only peace would make its home. God gave no wings to you and I, Only birds and bees can fly So here on earth Weill have to stay Until God calls us on Judgment Day. And, since we have to live today Upon this earth, in our own way, Letfs do our best to maintain love And hold our faith in Him above. -Herman Seavey, ,54 IT'S UP TO YOU A hot breeze whipped across the small clearing, stirring up puffs of dust from the ground. Dana scowled as he watched the puffs slowly descend to their resting places, from which they had been rudely lifted. Dana had right to scowl, for this was the dry month of August - which was an invitation for the greedy fire? He looked about him, at the tall stately pines, the clear-cut mountains, the birds swooping and gliding, and he smelled the tangy pine odor and wild flowers. He tried to visualize what this beautiful spot would look like if a fire ever raged through it. No, it would be hard once you get used to seeing tall, green pines, instead of black poles of wood, stick up right in the ground! J

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THE QUILL 9 no holes in them, but something was wrong. He got up, went out, and walked along, not noticing where he was going. The trucks. ears. and buses rattled along the dark streets. One car went by, filled with noisy. laughing, high-school boys and girls. Those were the days! Then he had had friends. fun, and faith. He was the star football player. Probably everyone but him had forgotten that day when they played Cilecath High. The day he had run thirty yards for the winning touchdown after play- the last quarter with a broken wrist! But what difference did that make now? He had been a success then. In fact, he had been a success until just a year ago. Since then he had met defeat after defeat. He had lost friend after friend by asking for favors and for jobs. Suppose IXIary Anderson' was like him. Suppose she didn't have any friends or any job. YVell, it was too late now. He had spent the money. Wfhat about the social security card and the picture of the little, old man with the horn-rimmed glasses? But no, if he took those back, she would know that he had spent her money. She might even call the police. Still ..... Norman Shields walked slowly, hesitating- ly. Once he almost turned, as if to go back. He kept on, however, and finally found himself in front of a large, brown building, which was obviously a rooming house - a cheap one. He went up the walk and re- luctantly rang the bell marked 'fAnderson.,, He rang a second time, more firmly now. Finally, on the third ring, the door opened and an old woman peered out at him. Sorry, young man. You're about an hour too late. Mary moved out bag and baggage about ten o'clock. She got a telegram saying her uncle died. Left her some money I guess. IVhat you callin' on her so late for? No, ainft got no forwardin, address. Did ya. know ...... ?', But the landlady was talking to thin air. Norman Shields was already half way down the walk. He quickened his steps toward the little room that somehow didn't seem as dreary as it had before. f'Do unto oth- ers as you would have them do unto you. Suddenly he smiled at an old man who was passing by. Perhaps the smile had little meaning to the man, but to Norman it was the beginning of a new way of life. Tomorrow he would get a job. -Barbara Dessler. '52 THE NIGHTMARE All I can remember of the beginning is- well, slowly rising from a dark mass that covers me, rising into a strange warm light that seems to be coming from a round gold ball hung above nie. I feel as if I were just being born. A month, two months, I continue to grow. Before me those of my kind grow along with me, not moving, not speaking. By Heaven! What is this? A monster - a huge hideous monster 4 coming, coming for us. Wfe stand silently, showing no sign of fear, for we cannot. One by one we are torn from our places. Almost a part of us f- this refuge 4 the only place we've known, but what cares this monster? Well, today I was spared, a brother, a sister, and many friends were taken by this friend. Sparcd another day - another night! Maybe tomorrow Ifll join the other un- fortunates who have gone before me. It is three or four days before the uMonster comes again. This time I feel the pain of being ripped from my home, thrown along with my kind into a round, deep prison. After collecting all of us that he wants, he carries us within his great portals. I remember being put, along with the rest, into another dark place. Slowly I notice that it is getting warmer, warmer, my body is wet, the heat is becoming unbearable. Then darkness, deep, sweltering darkness! Then after an eternity I awake. I can hardly see or think - my body is drenched. Through the steam-filled prison I can see that awful face. My companions, some of whom seem to think no more in life, lie amid the steam. One by one our wasted bodies are taken into the open air again, but not to free- dom, for we are placed on a flat hard sur- face before another great giant. He lifts me up. I see the great powerful jaws widen and then feel the excruciating pain of hav- ing flesh ripped, literally ripped, from my body. Again and again relentlessly the mon- ster tears at my body. I can not think very clearly. All I can see asI lie mangled is the grinning, drool- ing jaws of my assistant. Again my mind stirs as I lie upon the ground, dying, lost to the world. And then in a flash, through half gather- ed thoughts I see the world before me.