Hersey High School - Endeavor Yearbook (Arlington Heights, IL)

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q 'H'i4.'Mi . Wff KURT JACOBS '82 THUNDER AND TEARS A man becomes saddened as quick as the seasons change. Just as the violent wind blows the clouds, A man is hit with the violence in life. One minute the sun shines and his life is full of joy. Then suddenly a dark cloud passes and the joy is taken away. That cloud pours its rain as the man cries his tears. Can anyone really understand the spreading of the clouds or the thunder within? Is there ever a time when all is just right, When not a breeze nor a cloud can be seen? If someone finds that perfect day, Will he not shout so that all mankind can be happy? So many unanswered questions, All of which are like the changing weather. Who knows if the clouds will appear. Or, if tomorrow the sun will shine? Who knows if a man will be happy, or so sad that he cries? by Kelly Werth '81 f ,.iaf-5, 7- . I fi' Aff! N f ' f ..,..,g .. , - ,,, .ff , -5 . I 4 X -fe' fr' i4.lVif.i-- xi 5 X ,-q,iwz.u-f ' 1 ig fl 3, sw ' rf-' -4 I .v' M wtf 1 f . f :UM 2' Y ' I ' H .yr 3 . 'V .idgtxiviv 1 1 1.1-xg? 2 ' A v ,5 Lf km , 191- 3, 1 4 .4 1, . I v ,,f ., . , x , . H. , 1, ..f, Q4 f f . I 1 bl Q , f , at .ff .f'N'i', X .35 f.i ',, L11 9 51: ' .' .' fx' . A ,. . If . ,, M ,. A. ...fr 3 Q an 1 I' J ' I DOUG RYAN '84 THE BOOK OF LIFE Life is just a book with many, many pages, They carry on all thru the ages. I have many chapters to go in mine, But somehow I feel I haven't written a line. Was it all just a dream, a silly, silly dream? Just a pie topped with strawberry ice cream? I look back to when it started. Wasn't it just yesterday I took my first step? Blew out my Ist candle? Skinned my knee for the lst time? But the years go on, and later The pages will yellow, but not now. I have time and lots of will,' The past chapters though, they do stand still. Sixteen have passed away, How I wanted them to stay. But Time says, No, You must get up and go. Life is still an unnnished book for you. Go. Make more pages, y'have much more to do. by Ann Kruckmeyer '82

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The green grass weeps, LETTER TO THE WORLD the yellow flower sheds a silent tear. To accomplish great things, Even the dark earth is wet with dew - the silent pain coming from watching, helplessly, we must not only act, But also dreamg not only plan, as they are systematically destroyed ' But also believe. by an unfeeling SUPERIOR race. by Dave Brown '81 by Monica Wendell '83 LINDA HAMMANG '83 LINDA HAMMAN G '83 2 far-R f f I 4 ,7 Iqvw 5 otii t' ,'ti. , t 1 ,K ff, vj, i 7 1 fj g A t ' it gf f , 'xt X XJ ANNA MASELLA '82

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This story is lovingly dedicated to all those who have not only experienced the useless, selfless de- struction of a personality, but have been able to un- derstand it as well. The boy is young-fourteen to be exact. He has wavy, curly blond hair that comes down to the middle of his ears. He has soft blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and an innocent, contagious smile on his face. He is a little bit tall for his age and a little bit skinny, too. Strength, his paren ts had told him, isn 't so important. Develop your mind. And he had believed them with his whole heart. He wore a pair of nicely pressed green pants that his mother had laid out for him, a pair of black leather shoes, and a green and white flowered silk shirt. The shirt was very special to him. It was given to him on his last birthday by his father and mother. He loved them very much. How proud he had felt that morning as he kissed his mother good-bye and walked out the door, carefully groomed for his first day of high school. Now, with his books in his hand, a brand new folder and notebook for each class, and two new pens and pencils, all organized with the ut- most care, he was ready to begin this special adven- ture. For the last three weeks he had dreamed of this day almost every night. How he would meet all of the wonderful, friendly people his older sisters had told him about. '7t's the 'funnest' time of your life, he had heard. Now as he walked down the hall, he was amazed at all the activity and all the people. The hall was lined with benches on each side which were Hlled with people. They all appeared to him to be juniors or seniors, and he smiled at them, hoping to make some friends. Suddenly, he was on the ground. All of his folders, put together so carefully, were strewn all over the hall. All of the papers were dirty and his pens and pencils were not to be found. He had been tripped, and as he was, a seam in the arm of his green and white flowered silk shirt had been pulled and torn. His pants were dirty and his hair was messed up. As he got up, he looked at all those faces. Faces he had trusted, respected, looked up to, and believed in. They were all pointing and laughing at him. His eyes were watery and a single solitary tear rolled down his soft cheek. And he felt very, very sorry for them. by Dave Brown '81 K-...af I 42' 'QV Q3 12751 A DIFFERENT KIND OF SUMMER Last summer I did something that my grandpar- ents, my father, and his brothers and sisters had to do, sometimes a week at a time, to stay alive 40 years ago. I was in Poland, and Ispent a month at my grand- mother's in Dzierzak village. The village is nick- named that because almost everyone who lives there has the last name of Dzierzak. They are all related to me in some way. One night my uncle was telling my cousins and me about how our relatives and their neighbors survived during World War II. During his story he mentioned an underground room which was beneath my grand- mother's house. Long ago it was used as a bomb shel- ter, and hiding room. Whenever bomb sirens were heard, everyone in the village came to my grand- mother's house, and then went underground. Young men did the same thing when they heard that the Nazi' would be coming and taking some of them away to serve in the German army. I had never heard about this underground room, and I wanted to see it. My cousin and I decided that we would like to see howit felt to be locked up under-ground, and not to be able to come out when we wanted to. The next morning my uncle took us down to the room, and then my cousin and I were on our own. Our goal was to stay there for at least 48 hours. The room was large, dark, and empty, except for a few chairs, and some games. The first hour dragged on slowly, and by the time the third hour started, I felt that we had been down there at least a day. I was very rest- less and bored, there was nothing to occupy time wi th. I was afraid to sleep. If someone asked me wh y I couldn 't sleep, I probably couldn't have given him a decent reason. I remember that at one time I was walking around the room, and I knocked over the candles that were keeping it lit. My cousin started screaming because it became very dark. Wh en I final- ly got another candle lit, we decided that we couldn 't stay down in the room any longer. So, after 26' hours underground, we came back out into the world. I am glad that L at least, stayed underground for a little while. It wasn't very much fun, and I 'm relieved that I wasn 't around when people had to sit in rooms like the one I was in for days at a time, not knowing what to expect when they came out. by Bea Dzierzak '83 . E-in - ' ' 1- -: 1' r-1: 11-1 I no ,- -- , ,M -.gig -. - . . may t - . -' x 4 - - .....,...-.,,......- -, . yy X ..f: ,- . a V f -.-M ..-...Qf- -2-f':'a if ,r - - . .... -..N-,,-,,., ..- -,4,. , - . . -r ' --,.,...,..... . ,- Q, .ga-f ..--gxqfse -L: ., . ij- 5'I.'f4' i faif 5 'Q:.g. 2 - , - f' 49 4 ...X . rj Q 3 i 41 g .1 ffl! f f V' 17 7-15-f ' -fia za..-I l - S3 P xi-fa 'Q 9 X4 1 j 13.411 ' ' . '7?57'5?Q uf. - war.- DAWN SMIDDY '82 . . . qv, 4, ,f ....., 5 M x, .Q af X' . nf. . 4 1' W Y L Y K ftxj 3 , 32 I W 'S A vi- ,, ff- Q11 R lm' Y ff-vfl-7 -sw, 'Y I z . . 6 YF iviffg. 24, M1 yi 1 ,V QR 'rx H ' f I M., , , 5. 4 Q 1 , 1 A .ff fi 5 1 Q MYRINA APGAR '84