Girard College - Corinthian Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

Page 11 text:

January, 1933 9 We Danced — E WERE first aware of it as if in the dark but, paradoxically, we were long in the dark about it. Spring found us—well, we averaged sixteen! We found spring and held it tethered for one short evening. There were daffodils; there were roses. Per¬ haps the verdance was imitation and the color unreal—we could not reproduce the flush of enjoyment that we secretly noticed on certain faces. We even forgot rhat music was being rendered so that we might step out: one, and two, and thi ee, and four! In the pleasant atmosphere there throbbed something of which we could not have our fill. We were happy. At the opening of the Christmas season we tried no such transition. We shut out the cold and crowded the hall to overflowing—with what must have been the Christmas spirit. Let us say that the decorations were but a means to an end which, we feel sure, we did achieve. We were, by this time, sold on this social idea and we carry the Christmas affair among our brightest memories. Again a curtain was drawn; again we found spring. It was apple blossom time. The soft glow of light, the delicacy of color—they lived, glowed, and breathed into our hearts a serene sort of joy. In this, our third success, we reached a climax. We found the decorations a logical topic for conversation— there was plenty of it. The feeling that we entertained for a time made us al¬ most ashamed—why, we were softening! Perhaps, after the manner of a senior, we made a last, flippant thrust at) decoration. Originality was what we termed it, and we were proud. The color¬ ful simplicity of the whole scheme attracted us. We danced in a world apart— beneath clothes-lines. The informality of the line, the careful disregard of color choice made us feel—shall I say “homely”? The tumble-down shanty has a place in our memory and, (may I quote the Girard News?) “at our dance it rained punch. In the playful spirit of the thing we dipped our drinks, from a rain barrel. We were no longer in the dark ; but alas! to all good things must come an end. The materialist in us rises as we make acknowledgement to Miss Smythe, Dr. Stewart, and Mr. Gares, without whose help—that’s trite yet we are very grate¬ ful. Remember, you Juniors who wish to start off right—their hats are in the ring!

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Looking Backward Bullock, McCullough, Schiavo, Server, Bove, Bryan, Davis, Kingsmore, Land, Melson, Shiner, Solomon, Wedekemper, and Wood. It is done. The beach is calling the ghosts back. Ere they go, however, they pay their respects to Messrs. Frey, Carey, Banks, Cullen, and Pfouts whilte the class look on with approval and appreciation. The land of the beach and jungle is now dark, and pan-like music steals silently out over the starlit waters as Orpheus woos the waves. Soldier, Miner and Politician T HE tourist trade would not be so profitable if travel were not enticing. We Girardians have known this enticement. In June of 1931 we were faithfully guided to the various points of interest at Valley Forge: the Chapel, the carillons, and the museum. But it was when we were left alone that we got so much out of our stay there by just wandering through the nearby woods or clambering over grass-clad trenches. Despite the softening effect of the time, the surroundings still reveal pictures of American struggles for liberty. We realize then why this place has become enshrined in the hearts of our countrymen. Can any boy look at those front line trenches and not picture the scene of America’s early struggle ? Shenandoah—means ascending rickety flights of black wooden stairs and gazing down on the work-a-day life of a breaker. Here breaks the noise of shifting screens and sliding coal which left us with a confused notion of the min¬ ing industry, but the cool quiet of the underground was different. No explorer could ask for more than to be drawn from the depths by a steel thread, like one resurrected and transported to the green valleys of Shenandoah. As the last act to a glorious pageant our trips culminated in the Capitol City. With apologies to Henry Van Dyke one might say, “Oh, Washington is a man’s town; there’s power in the air.” But such a feeling does not spring wholly frohi an impression of vast riches and resources. It rises from the knowledge that here is the symbol of what the shabby men of Valley Forge died to create. It is the symbol of what courageous miners, laborers, builders, craftsmen, teachers, and artists have sought to maintain. It is the duty of every citizen to know how his government is run. We departed from Washington feeling that our stay there had not been unprofitable. For some of us these brief visits have been the opening wedge to a life of travel. On the other hand many of our number will lead a sedentary existence.. But when the years have passed and we meet once more, not one of us will have forgotten our three trips together.

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10 Looking Backward “Sound Off ” ‘‘ ATTENNSHUN ! Eyes to the front, head up, chest out, chin in, and keep your AA hands at your sides. Yes, you!” We staggered and resigned ourselves to the life of a recruit. The ensuing months brought much discomfort, and we emerged with a knowledge of how to whisper without moving the lips, but withal—a soldier. Some of us were naturally ambitious, yet it was the harassed life of a recruit that climaxed our resolution to become an officer some day. The first to receive this honor was John Guarini, Captain of Company B in his Senior-One term. He proved himself a good soldier and an efficient officer and became Senior Captain and Captain of Company A in Senior-Two. Till their Senior-One term, he was assisted by four sergeant classmates: Charles Pool (Supplies), Charles Gould, James Wood, and William Wilson. Although John left a gap in Company B not easily filled, Elmer Bryan icon- ducted the work admirably in his last term with Jack Specht serving as his First Lieutenant. Harvey Melson was a Lieutenant in S-l, and Anthony Schiavo held the position of Supply Sergeant here at the same time. Lest the necessary business of listing the various company officers grow monotonous, now is the time to interpose the Staff. Little did they think four years ago that theirs would be the duty of drilling recruits and forming the parade. But Fate has his way. Rexford Tompkins was made Captain; Claude Commo, Adjutant; Robert Spatzer, Quartermaster; Charles Wedekemper, First Lieutenant; George Carroll, Sergeant Major; Howard Shultz, Battalion Sup¬ ply Sergeant; and William Server, SJergeant of the Staff. But to our companies again. Herbert Nagel captained Company C, and Jack Shiner was his First Lieutenant. Six sergeants came from our class in the persons of Dawson, Godfrey, McAnally, Morris, Wambach, and Worman. In Company D, William McLaughlin was Captain, Robert Jones, First Lieutenant, while Silvio Pastore was Supply Sergeant, and Caron and Betz Sergeants during their S-l term. No matter what one’s position, if he does his work better than the rest, the world will notice him. The proverbial mouse trap is ever before us. In June 1931, Private Joseph Kingsmore, took second honors in the Individual Com¬ petitive Drill. Our Battalion days are over and the last parade has been formed. March¬ ing past in review, we trust that General Brookfield, the Commandant, will realize that our “eyes right” embodies our appreciation of a better standard of military performance. After all it is the future to which we look, and it is pardonable to think of the Battalion as we shall watch it drill many years from now. Yes, it is fine; the movements are clean-cut and snappy. But look, a few are shaking their heads solemnly, and gravely voicing their opinions. “Well, good enough, we must say. But when WE were here—” It is to be expected.