Goodrich High School - Cardinal Yearbook (Fond Du Lac, WI)

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As my senior year was fast approaching, my family left forlEurope. In Europe we visited eight countries: The Netherlands, Belgium, Luxumberg, West Germany, Austria, Switzerland, France, and Liechtenstein. Our first night we stayed in Utrecht. The hotel was an experience for us. The halls had vending machines that sold beer. There was no T.V. I had a real fun time trying to figure out how to take a shower in a sit-down tub with no curtain to keep the water from spraying all over. While in Germany we stayed in a walled city one night tRotenbergj. Another night we fulfilled a fantasy I'm sure everyone has had at one time or another... That of sleeping in a castle lCastle Harberbl. We also visited the concentration camp where the Nazis sent criminals, homosexuals, priests, and enemies of the government. It is extremely sad to see man's inhumanity towards his fellow man. It was a very som- ber experience. We spent our last night on the town in Amsterdam-taking in some Indonesian food, some vibes from guys jamming tunes in the streets, watching drug deals taking place, and witnessing people solicit themselves. On our way back I thought of all the things that will never be the same. . . especially me. Cool temperatures, funny door knobs, sit-down showers, fast driving, cars, excellent meats, the different foods, the unique people, and all the spectacular sights that I may never see again. I am convinced, however, that America is the richest and most beautiful country that I have ever seen. -By Eric Nelson IJ MJ 5-9 Lu Lb QE at 'ii L- P-H rf' fl .,x .' - sit .H 'I Ya r' ti ll-. ka ivaxucnroxr lg Var Hx 'Q - 313,919 I IN I was impressed by Britain's buildings. Buildings so tremendously old, I couldn't believe it. Stone steps actually hollowed out from millions and mil- lions of feet moving to their destination. Inns and quaint shops of medieval times lean over as if to say they had enough of standing tall and wished to recline to rest their creaking but solid structures. With glory and importance long since gone, stately castles atop hills stand defiantly and proudly. Unfortunately, these impressive and beautiful places clash with today. Cars tear and roar among the narrow streets, blackening the walls and destroying what is in their path. Finally, trains rat- gb Ca ffcsnf-1-d 1 Q'--f '-122.3 rj 5 fl - 0 .QE Ui iii' 52 x 6 If lu 'I Ffffllr mreffffi 1 Pl if :Q tle and bang X, . N my . . -u.- I 4 H, W I p p ,. ,A x x 6 2 . V , A , ' fi ai . 'ii' I I l -X' l A - ii. 1 - Tafvv, gf ' W , lI?3YfVSz!,:': is . 1 I .- I ll. .ek . vi .4 ,n I' 1. TJ: viizjru U , 'inf 176-We their way an hour behind schedule. People at every turn rush on by without much of a thought to the ancient buildings and the message they have to convey. Because of all this commotion, I was frustrated in my attempts to appreciate the places of old, and I am sorry to have missed out on their messages. I shall have to return some day, perhaps in a more peaceful way to try again. -By Laura Morgan

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Goodbye, Goodrich Sometime during this summer, I will be leaving Goodrich and Fond du Lac to spend a year as a foreign exchange student through Rotary International. I know that my year will be fun and exciting-and, yet, I will miss my senior year and graduation. But, I think my past two years here at Goodrich have made up for that with all the memories I have and will share with others. I will always remember the start of my sophomore year. Good- rich didn't seem that big-until the next day when the juniors and seniors came. I spent the year trying to understand the semester test schedule, always finding new staircases, and being wary of upperclassmen who seemed to be allergic to sophomores . Since my locker was on the third floor for two years, I must have climbed thousands of stairs. I remember spending the summer with a nervous driver education teacher. The junior year added more responsibility to everyone. A job was a must to pay for gas, insurance, clothes, lunch food, and, not to mention, speeding tickets. Now it was our turn to yell t'Sopho- mores! when they got up to leave from gym at the ten minute bell. Now, it was our turn to pick activities first. Now it was our turn to come in second in the homecoming parade. And, now, it was our turn to organize activities to raise money for senior events. My past two years at Goodrich have given me many good memories to keep and share with my new family overseas. I real- ly will miss sharing with all of you the activities of the senior year. You will be with me in my thoughts and I'll keep in touch-I hope that you will, too. As they say in French, Ar revoir, mes amis! lGoodbye, my friendsll Wish me luck! by Iulie Strasser I ,f2Ff?ff'tif!1fiQ. L Qt 'Af 3 Ni .-, Q X f , .I i eil , ,lj lf. ,1 f' ,z3 ' wgw. .f Q 'K Frm The End of a Brilliant Future Iamie sat nervously, chewing polished fingernails as her seemingly mammoth history teacher, Mr. Hansen, took his leisurely time handing back the last grueling test jamie and her classmates had suffered through. After what seemed like a million centuries, Mr. Hansen finally reached Iamie's desk. Smirking down at her from his towering height, Mr. Hansen looked like an elephant ready to squash a timid mouse. Shaking like a leaf, Iamie grasped the paper Mr. Hansen unceremoniously shoved at her with a raucous laugh. Slow- ly she glanced at her grade. A big, fat, red D-minus! Iamie couldn't believe her eyes! It was devastating! Suddenly the room became a claustrophobic cubicle with gaudy, irridescent, orange walls that blinded and hurt her eyes. The chipped gray linoleum floor was three feet deep in dust and dirt. The two million year-old desks were midget size and on their last legs. Any slight move- ment would disintegrate them in a split second. Everyone Iamie looked at wore twisted, mocking smiles, and maliciously flaunted their superior grades. As Iamie sluggishly dragged her feet out of the splintered, creaking door of the temple of doom, she thought she would never again experience even a slight shade of happiness. An ugly D-minus had ruined an extremely brilliant future! by Denise Schneider Attack of the Killer Pickles I asked for a hamburger without pickles, and this is what you gave me. This hamburger has pickles on it, said the indignant customer. Oh, I'm sorry. I must have grabbed the wrong one, replied the timid wait- ress. Well, your mistake could have cost me my life. I'm allergic to pickles! shouted the customer, whose face had turned a bright pink in the midst of this excitement. I, I, stuttered the waitress whose face was turning very pale. Don't give me that! I want to talk to the manager of this dump! interrupted the customer. I'll go get her, replied the girl as she walked away, Well, hurry up! I don't have all day to wait, snapped the customer. A tall, thin woman with glasses emerged from the back room. She had a concerned look on her face. She walked right up to the counter where the woman was standing and asked cheerfully, Can I help you, Ma'am? You certainly can, if you are the manager of this so-called restaurant. I ordered a hamburger without pickles. just look at the hamburger I got. Look! exclaimed the woman as she shoved it under the manager's nose. I'm terrible sorry. I will have a hamburger with no pickles made immedi- ately for you. She walked over to the microphone and called for a hamburger without pickles. The worker making hamburgers was laughing the whole time that the lady was complaining. He stopped long enough to make a hamburger without pickles. The manager stood nearby to ensure that the hamburger didn't have pickles on it. When the worker had completed the hamburger, he handed it to the manager. The manager walked up to the woman and handed it to her. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, she stated in a pleasing tone. The woman grabbed the hamburger and turned around to walk out the door with her nose high in the air. The manager turned toward the trembling waitress, smiled and walked away. by Donna Weinshrott We-175

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What's Paradise? Mile long beaches? A crystal blue sea with white-capped surfs? Palm trees swaying in gentle winds? An island in the sung in the ocean: in the Carribbean maybe Puerto Rico, Iamaica, Martinique, St. Thomas? Barbados fits this hapless stereotype: a Carribbean is- land with blue seas caressing white beaches. But if this is Paradise, then it has hidden drawbacks only visible to its natives and lon -stay visitors. Laziness is its worst enem . Its inhabitants sack ambition and zealg however, they dlb express a fervor for love towards their homeland, but their patriotism stops there. Like of crime, greed, or insensitivityg but that doesn't mean that you can't find friendly, helpful, unselfish Bajans. Are these characteris- tics of Paradise? Does the perfect Paradise exist? Is Paradise filled with love, happiness and security? My paradise is. Does Paradise show you new experiences, let you feel new emotions, give you opportunities? My para- dise does. I've been fascinated and bored: welcomed and alienat- ed. I've felt isolated and lonel . I've learned the meaning of need, of the value of friendls, familiarity, and opportu- nity. And I've learned about Paradise and its stereotypes. When I'm happy I'm in Paradise. When I'm love I'm experiencing Paradise. Where I'm safe and secure is where my Paradise is. Can you find love, hap iness, and security on an island such as Barbados? Maybe. But it's riot my paradise. But, just being an island, nestled in a remote art of our planet, neither guarantees nor negates one's chances of findin Paradise. My not-so-perfect I fi , I K '26-T ' Qf'fCLT5l , fi -f x 4,73g?oA - , f V X Il t I ' I 2 -5'-7. fait ' I 'I T. ., dgffsa X - I I It -1' I ? 'fs . llli ' I Wx tl NN xx K ., It X xt ' ll tl lyk ? ,Z If X - ' ?' aradise is here with my fiiends and family, who give me happiness, love, and security. lThe author, Dianne Holland, spent two months in Bar- bados on an AFS foreign exchangel lf X I I I I 4- 1 t , X I K Xt . ' . X ' ' 1 . X i ' ' x I R5 ,, x ,X X I. all .A K 17? k . I.: -. ' nd X , K ' 1 me I -f V 1 HB6 gi? Oh, look! It's a Koala bear! I wish I had one for a pet, mum. They're so cute and cuddly! A little girl pointed excitedly at my sister and me-the newest exhibits in Average City Zoo, U.S.A. But we're not bears, I protested to Kandy, we're marsupials. Everyone knows that, don't the ? As the day wore on, I found out I was wrong. Everyone decfared that we were Koala bears. Boy, maybe I am wrong. Maybe, we are bears after all. My thoughts whirled that night as I tried to slee . My baby sis- ter, Kandy, and I had been shipped to the Uniteclf States from a wildlife refuge in Australia, and we had arrived just last night. The next thing we knew, we were in the midst of a crowd of strangers who called us neat, and tried to feed us popcorn, of -By Dianne Holland - 'X . l' , f UM ' , .- ni 1 , f 3 A . -'tf'ges M .J Ns .V !'g' . J A-if ': W5'5'f ' . X all things! They talked funny, too. The next morning my sister and I inspected our surroundings. There were bears on one side, and monkeys on the other. So many more people stopped by our cage, than by the other animals' cages. We began to fee conspicuous. So over lunch, we decided to ecome more normal, then everyone wouldn't point and stare at us. Since everyone was callin us bears, we decided to try to act like bears. Kandy and I ambled around the cage, sat down once in awhile, swatted at things with our paws-but when we tried to stand on our hind legs, we couldn't do it! Bruno Bear was doing it, so we had to be able tog but no, we failed at it again and again. continued on page 178 We-177