Jersey Shore High School - Orange and Black Yearbook (Jersey Shore, PA)

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JERSEY SHORE HIGH SCHOOL 23 Everything seemed strange, the hustle and bustle of cars, and people always on a half run. Arizona people are easy going people, and I could- n't understand why everyone should be in a hurry up here. It was August 27 when I arrived in Jersey Shore, just in time to start my schooling for the second time. I was enrolled in the Broad Street School, and got into trouble the first day: I got my hand stuck back of the radiator. NO GREATER LOVE KLINE BUPPINGTON -Only God and the Russian government knew they were there, and both seemed to have forgotten they were there. HE sun rose sullenly on a lonely Russian outpost - sullenly because of the utter look of desolation which it beheld. A weary sentry trudged slowly back and forth, flailing his arms in an attempt to keep warm, and stamping his feet in the snow. A bleak picture pre- sented itself to this same rising sun, veiled by the heavy clouds which held an ominous promise of more snow before the day was much older. The post was a small garrison of Russian soldiers, placed in the northern-most section of Siberia, the reason for which was hard to see, since there was nothing up there to protect except this bitter God-for- saken tundra which nobody could ever want. But the most Imperial Government had to send her soldiers somewhere to keep them from clut- tering up the cities. Such were the musings of Paul Korsavitch, the post's young lVl.D., as he awoke from a troubled sleep to wonder again if the supplies would get through today, from the base 200 miles to the south. No supplies had arrived for three months now, after the big snow which had lasted for two weeks. The situation was becoming tense. The men were forced to live on dried meat now: sometimes boiling it, sometimes frying it, and some- times just eating it. In a few more days they would be without even that. A few of them were down with scurvy, and nothing could be done to cure them without the necessary fresh food. Then. too, the men were becoming tired of each other, sick of seeing each other's unshaven faces and hearing voices which irritated them. Why, just yesterday Big Pete had knocked little Ivan Strarkoski half-way across the room. because the sound of his sudden, piping voice had irritated him. Their temperaments were worn to the quick by the lack of some occupation and the anxiety of waiting ,.,......... waiting , . . . . waiting. The young doctor went about his tasks that day, caring for his patients while a dim plan formulated in the back of his head. He began to realize that unless a dog team got through within a few weeks, the whole company was doomed to starvation.

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22 THE ORANGE AND BLACK EIGHTEEN YEARS HAVE PASSED Cl-IARL GETGEN WAS born November 1, 1919 at Uncle Tom's Circle Star Ranch. Twin Falls, Texas. I was christened Dareth Gainesworth Getgen. I do not remember anything of my life there, because I was only thirteen months old when we left the Red River and went to the D-O- Bar, Dad's brother Dareth's ranch in southern Texas. Mother and Dad came North to Jersey Shore, Pennsylvania QWher- ever that waslj and left me with Aunt Ida and Uncle Dareth. I stayed with them in Texas till I was four years old. I had a pony of my own and ideas of being a cowboy like Uncle Dareth, but Aunt Ida soon abol- ished these. Her son, my cousin, Baten Worth, was gored to death by a breeding bull which broke loose one morning. This hit Aunt Ida hard, because he was her only son. About a year after his death, Aunt Ida had to have a change of scene to recover from a nervous breakdown. Uncle Dareth moved to Arizona to his birthplace. It was a great change from the rolling plains of Texas to the mesquite and Chaparral brush of Arizona. After I got used to the change, I liked Arizona better than I did Texas. It was here I saw my first real round-up. Uncle Dareth was recovering from a broken arm, and so he took me on my pony to watch. Everything was hurry, hurry, hurry, but the maximum efficiency of a round-up crew was acquired. Everything moved along smoothly till I was six years old. Uncle Dareth decided it was time for me to get some book learning: so he en- rolled me in the school at the little town of Split Rock, about ten miles from home. I didn't like school so well: so I was always inventing new excuses for staying home, from headaches to slipping stones under my pony's shoes. There was no one else my age near to play with, and I sought my own amusement, which sometimes led to trouble for me and the men. I remember the worst trick I ever did was done unintentionally. I went out to the South corral one morning to see some new colts. I played around the corral for a while and then left, and forgot to close the corral gate. It was not discovered till afternoon, and by that time the horses were scattered over the range, with the young colts making a prospective supper for the coyote. It was a good thing there was no preacher within a mile radius, or his face would have been red when this was discovered. It was about l 10 degrees in the shade, and to run horses is hard on theml Another favorite habit of mine was getting water in a bucket and soaking the men's ropes in it. If there is anything a cowboy hates worse than walking, it is getting his rope wet. One day a letter came from the North, and Aunt Ida informed me I was to go East. I didn't want to go, and she didn't want me to go. but Mother and Dad had their way, and I came East.

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24 THE ORANGE AND BLACK 1 He attended to his sick in thoughtful silence, seeming to be espe- cially attentive to each one that day. He loved these men, each for some distinct quality: and all, because they were a brave, fearless lot. He had a smile for everyone although he was utterly weary and sick at heart with fearful apprehension. That evening his report read something like this - Twenty more down with that damnable disease, and the men are acting like ani- mals toward each other. Today I smoothed over two more quarrels which might have ended seriously. Things cannot go on like this . . . A very troubled doctor retired that night, but not to sleep. Visions kept running through his mind, visions of starving men tearing each other apart, eating raw human flesh to satisfy an awful craving in their insides. Men who were no longer humans, but were wild beasts, mad- dened by the irresistible craving of hunger. When the earliest tinges of dirty light appeared around the edges of the sky, the doctor rose determinedly, drew on his clothes, and began slowly to pack the necessities for a long trek over the trackless tundra. He made the pack secure on the sled and harnessed the dogs - hungry brutes that would have jumped him the minute his back was turned, but they respected the whip from their earliest days of training. Checking over his equipment and making sure that no necessities were forgotten, he took one look around his small shack and then went into the storm. At a word from the doctor, the dogs set out on a trot southward. He turned and watched the encampment until it was shut off from his vision by the engulfing snowstorm. Then grimly he drove himself and the dogs unceasingly into the gale. Pk Pk elf Ak lk A week passed at the post, at the end of which the rations gave out, and five lay dead from the dread disease, scurvy. To make matters worse, at the slightest provocation the men were at each other's throats. The gale still raged outside. Another week passed. Now the men were forced to eat leather belts, shoes, gloves, parkas, anything made of leather. No longer was there any fighting in the barracks. These ravenous brutes were too weak to waste their strength in lighting. They eyed each other furtively, wondering who would be the first to be torn apart and devoured by half-human comrades. Pk PK Pk PK Pk Then one day, as if by an act of Providence, out of the blizzard stumbled three dog teams, laden with provisions from the base far to the south. The rescuing party had accidentally come upon the outpost after having pushed their way for three weeks through the wall of white. Starved men were carefully nursed back to health, and, after they had gained suflicient strength, they related the tale of horrible suffering and told of the heroic attempt of Paul Korsavitch, the young doctor, to save the camp.