Glass High School - Crest Yearbook (Lynchburg, VA)

Page 12 text:

Che Critic-Crest 1935 Swift is the Flight Swift is the flight of youth—a sudden sweep Of wind, a wave against an endless shore Recedes into itself, is seen no more, An impulse in a vast and changeless deep. Into this surging sea of life, youth came, Radiant, with candid eyes aglow, Unscarred in mind and soul he did not know Of guilt, of sorrow, no, nor even shame. Now, may the Hand that cherishes or mars, That gives the hopes, the traits that shape to grow Youth’s probity of soul, to each bestow Strength to surmount ambition’s sternest bars; For, youth, aspiring, ever strives. Although Blinded by sophistry, he gropes for stars. —AupDrREY N. Lona, Class Poet : iI | (eo)

Page 11 text:

—s : = ee eS Se ——E ——=—S = —— SSS ——— SS SES ESSE SS SS) —— — “ J3 =f SSS pea — SSS SSSS o4H}!]]—5 ———— = t a Z——= : SSO Up r SS SS Sa = = , ‘i 1 mi t= 2-4 ZAMS

Page 13 text:

Che Critic-Crest Chapter 1 a@OUNG Sam Sucker poked his head through the mud and yawned widely. He was mildly surprised to see a few energetic fish swimming by with OY clean handkerchiefs in their pockets and slick brown books under their Te but he was too sleepy to do anything about it. Just as he was dozing off again his mother shook him by the gill and handed him a clam shell. “Hurry!” she said, “You'll be late for school.” Giving his fins a preliminary flip, he slid cautiously into the stream. Fish were swimming about excitedly. He caught glimpses of his acquaintances—lazy suckers, snoopy little catfish, ubiquitous tadpoles, and an inky squid or two. Sam didn’t want to start to school; he did it because he was told that it was proper. As time went on, Sam was swept into deeper water. Gradually he and his companions became accustomed to the increasing swiftness of the current. Those whose work conformed to instructions and who talked at the proper time and were quiet at the proper time were praised; and those who did no work at all and exchanged clam shells, chewed fishing worms, and blew bubbles were caught on snags or stranded on sandbars. Sam, who was neither good nor bad, drifted downstream. He did notice that the river was becoming broader. He was just a normal fish. He believed everything everybody told him, wept when he was reprimanded, beamed when someone patted his fin casually, did from force of habit everything he was told, and took the blame for the other fishes’ errors. Sam had no aspirations—no regrets. Sam was a Sucker. One day Sam, in a reckless mood, swam above the level usually occupied by suckers. Climbing up as far as the surface of the water, he po ked his head through. The broadness of the opaque river, the green of the trees on the shore, and the ineffable blue of the sky dazzled him. Above the river wheeled a silver gull—a sure sign of the proximity of the ocean, if Sam had only known. Sam was overcome with emotion. How he longed to be in the gull’s place—to see the river as a whole. He wanted to be above the petty affairs of his little world; to look down instead of being looked down upon. Sam, for the first time, had Aspirations—and it didn’t feel good. It never occurred to him that the gull might be envying him. Who is a sucker, that he should dream? Sam was afraid, and he dived home. For a while his mind retained a vivid image of the gull against the sky. He felt superior to the ordinary fish and seldom condescended to speak to them. As the days wore on, however, the image faded, and Sam drifted back into his old, slack methods of living. As the fish neared what Sam guessed to be the mouth of the river, they were not allowed to talk in the corridors, they must observe traffic rules (keep to the 9