Hamden Hall Country Day School - Perennial Pine Yearbook (New Haven, CT)

Page 59 text:

What was that, a fire?-No, the sun was standing deep on the horizon, as a red ball, but it changed very fast into darker red until it was lilac. I was so deeply impressed by that picture which I saw-on the left side of the plane the night with the stars, and on the other, sunset and the light blue sky. Very soon it was all dark around us. In our plane it was quiet, some were sleeping, and others reading. Slowly the time crept. We were all glad when we saw the lightfire of an airport. It was Newfoundland and two o'clock in the morning. We had a wonderful sup- per there and after a short nap we started again. ' I In the distance appeared the first lights of America--Boston, New Haven, and then the airport of New York, the Empire State building and radio station with the beacon. Our plane made a large circle around the city, and in a few minutes our bird rolled on the ground. I never shall forget all that I saw on this trip over the ocean. Anneliese Kluthki Form V A MOON CHILD Sometimes when I sit and dream, The thought comes, and I say, I wonder, Rob, how it would seem, To be a moon child far away? Do they play hard the livelong night, Soccer, tennis, and all, Or must they always shed their light, With never a chance for ball? I wonder if their clothes look funny, Are they silver, blue, or gold? If we met them we'd say, Sonny, Is a moonbeam costume cold? Do they wear rubbers on their feet, When rainclouds chance their way, Can silver moonbeams their friends greet, Along the Milky Way? I would like to be a moonbeam, And Climb that shining silver stair, Then slide down brightly all agleam, And smell the cool earth air. Robert Manstield Form I iffy-live

Page 58 text:

MY TRIP FROM GERMANY TO AMERICA BY PLANE Very early in the morning of October fourth the Western Air Line plane started for America with thirty-six students. Very excited, my two companions and I looked out of the window of the airport building. It was four o'clock in the morning, and we could see only the shadows and lights on the airplanes. Suddenly it became morning. The sun rose in all colors from behind the hills. From the window we saw the silver birds moving to the starting place, and after a few minutes they were flying into the blue air. After hours spent in yearning, waiting and watching, at six o'clock the pilot called the names for the Western Air Line. After the pilot had checked our visas and other papers, we climbed up the ramp into the plane. Here we found very comfortable chairs, and on the walls, small windows. That was the picture of the airplane. I had my place just in front of the wings, and so I hoped to have a good view. The propellers began to move, first the two on the right and then on the left. There was a terrific noise and the whole bird vibrated through and through. The plane began to move-at first slowly, then faster and faster. In the middle of the field there was a little bump and we left the ground. Our bird climbed higher and higher. Beneath lay the world: in the distance the blue hills of the South, and the town of Frankfurt like a toy village and beyond, the silver line of the Rhine. I never shall forget the picture of the colors, the yellow of the cornfields and the dark green of the forests. Suddenly in front of our plane appeared a dark blue line. Very slowly it grew larger. It was the ocean with its white crowns on the waves. In our plane it began to be very uncomfortable, our bird was taking its first exercises, rolling from one side to the other. The clouds barred our view. Our stewardess called, Fasten your belts. The heavy woolen blankets were now a good protection against the cold breeze. Our plane was sinking and tossing all the time. The stewardess came with a large perfume bottle and for the first time the students got a taste of airsickness. But with singing and laughing the storm was soon forgotten. An hour later we arrived in Ireland with its green fields, hills, lakes and small islands. The clouds sometimes allowed us a view. Here in Shannon was our first rest. After some refreshment and walking on the field, we left Shannon three hours later. Our only desire was No storm. The next flight was the longest-12 hours over the ocean-clouds, water, rain and snow-all the time the same picture, hour after hour. fifty-four

Page 60 text:

Paia, Maui Territory of Hawaii Friday, July 30, 1948 Dear Miss Stewart, We are staying in Upper Paia, a small town surrounded by pineapple and cane fields, and situated in the front yard of Haleakala Mt., on the island of Maui. Maui has some- times been described as the place where upineapples grow in every field, but not one can be bought at the market. This is because they are sent directly to the cannery. Haleakala has one of the largest extinct craters in the world-a crater which is truly a rival in beauty to the Grand Canyon. Upon our arrival in Paia, we were initiated at a luau CHawaiian feastb. A pig was wrapped in broad ti leaves and baked underground on a bed of hot coals. After five or six hours the meat was uncovered, crisp, tawny, well-watched, not over-roasted, crackling- and devoured with relish. We also ate poi, sweet potato, raw fish in soya sauce, chicken, sushi Crice cakesj , what looked like whole crawfishes, taro leaves, seaweed, opihi Csnailsj , and coconut pudding, all of which was washed down with cokes. I can honestly say that I tried everything, although I am not very fond of seaweed and snails. The Hawaiians afterwards sang and danced, and taught us songs with words like these- Kuu lei awapuhi, mele mele, Opu ia mekeale, ona ona-- They are no longer a jumble of vowels to me, but a part of one of the wor1d's most beauti- ful languages. Now, after our first luau, we are almost full fledged kanakas, and not molohinis any longer. Two weeks ago we drove to Hana, on the rainy side of the island, and stayed for two days at a cottage near the ocean. In my opinion, there can be no more beautiful scenery in Hawaii than that found on the road to Hana. We saw waterfalls of all sizes and varieties, mango, kukui, breadfruit, bamboo, and koa trees, huge cliffs overhanging endless beaches, a valley that still shelters an ancient Hawaiian village, and a very hazy glimpse of the island of Hawaii, 35 miles to the south of Maui. The trip took more than three hours, since we stopped along the way for yellow ginger blossoms, mountain apples, rose apples, and African tulips. The road winds in and out of thirty-two gulches, each with a pattern of red and dark green mango trees, and very light green kukui trees that contrast with the mangoes. We stopped for a picnic lunch beside a small waterfall, and did not arrive at Wainapanapa Cave, in Hana, until after 3:00 P. M. This cave, the most fascinating and mysterious place that I have ever seen, consists of lava tubes partly filled with icy, fresh water, although the cave is very near the sea. We swam through the tubes with candles in our hands, my uncle Colin leading the way. In the first room there is a reddish rock-the bleeding rock, where a princess was killed by her disappointed lover. We climbed out on a ledge to recover from the first shock fifty-rix