John Adams High School - Clipper Yearbook (Ozone Park, NY)

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the dean's office. Those in the know said they were making out the list of those who were to receive athletic awards. Then came june and a long line of athletes paraded through the Holwell auditorium to receive their team awards. But for Johnnie Thompson, sitting in the third row it brought back old memories. He looked at this ceremony with tear-misted eyes. Oh, to be in that line! But it was impossible. The team awards had been given out, and a hushed silence fell over the assembly as the students awaited the voice of their principal. And now, he continued, I have yet one more award to make, the Holwell medal, the highest athletic award this academy has to offer. I now have the great pleasure of presenting it to Mr. John Thompson for the greatest athletic assistance to his school during the past season. And as thousands cheered, the principal continued: A former athlete, who could not continue because of a great physical castas- trophe, this lad, here, assisted more than anyone else in bringing the championship to Holwell University. Let this show every one of you that you too can assist in ath- letics without actively participating. Thus the dean finished. When happy Johnnie limped off the platform into the surging crowd of students, they were anxious to grasp their new-born hero and lifted him to their shoulders in a parade of triumph. l It's empty-echoing and chilly. White tile walls gleam dully and merge into the far inky black. Clacking wooden heels on an iron stairway-a cough-rattling in the thin silence. A lady in furs shivers. The yellow light is bleak. The signals blink from red to green. The train roars to the platform Flicking grey and yellow shadows and slides away again. Once more it's empty-rather echoing-and chilly. Mary Browne 'l'i--aE- 1n..iiw1i.-ie25

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It was Johnnie Thompson who discovered the nervousness or the opposing catcher in the season's opener against Darton College and therefore advised Williams to attempt a steal home with the win- ning run. And as he predicted, the catcher did muff the ball in the ex- citement, and Holwell won. Yes, Johnnie knew his baseball. It was Johnnie who under- stood that a big hulk like the Bolton's heavy hitter was easy for a ball thrown shoulder high. And Bolton's star hitter was struck out three times because of Johnnie. Then again, against Jamestown, the league leaders, Johnnie rec- ognized that the Jamestown pitcher was blowing up in the fateful final inning. Through his advice, three Holwell hitters waited, walked, and filled the bases. Jamestown excitedly yanked the pitcher out. Then Johnnie advised a pinch hitter to be sent up. The sub- stitute, not having had sufficient warming up, threw one over the center of the rubber and Samson, the pinch hitter, smashed out a double to deep center field, causing Holwell to score the two winning runs. Yes, Johnnie certainly was acquainted with the old Diamond Game. His work helped out Holwell in a tie for the championship. Then came the championship game. Every one of the 10,000 odd people at the contest will remember how Holwell was being sh-own the dust of their opponents. Through five innings Holwell had been kept scoreless, while their opponents had piled up a grand total of four runs. The despair of the losing team had moved into the Holwell stands, and that side of the field was as hushed as a hospital street at midnight. But they will also remember how a short crippled lad had hobbled onto the field and grabbed up a Holwell megaphone. Come on! he yelled, give them the 'Fight On, yell. Something of his pep and vigor must have entered these stands, as they all remembered who that weak lad was and what he had done. With one accord the age-old cheer rang across the diamond. Those who were there will remember how the Holwell team seemed to have new life in them afterwards, and h-ow they came up in their half of the sixth and began to clout the old cowhide. So that was why Holwell won that ball game. The next day the head of the gym department, the dean, and various members of the faculty were seen in animated discussion in QL!--r-u-as 1n.an-tit.:-e

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SPIRIT VOICES BY WALTER STOREY 'x g , ll .V L. lsigft he blare of the bugle and the roll of the drums that echoed and reechoed across the earth's surface two decades ago has faded. The clamor and cry of the people caught in the turmoil of the war has receded, and the post-war excitement has calmed. But still the rumble of the guns and the horror and the grimness of the war have been carried over the years to us. They have been carried over by men who knew the war and died in it. They were the poets of the war. The outstanding three and the three destined to live the longest are Rupert Brooke, Alan Seeger, and Joyce Kilmer. They were poets, all of them, but contrary to the conception of poets, they knew how to fight-fight hard and grimly. While they were close to the sterner side of life, they had in them that spark of beauty and appreciation of beauty which distinguished them from other men. They, with their pens, created something of the war which has out-lasted and outlived the roar and din of the actual battle. The first one of this trio to pass on was Rupert Brooke, who was born at'Rugby, England, on August 3, 1887. He was educated at the school there, where his father was a master. From Rugby he went to King's College in Cambridge, where he won a Fellowship. The following year the Great War broke out, and in September, he enlisted as a sub-lieutenant in His Majesty's Navy. On the last day of February 1915, he sailed with the British Mediterranean Ex- peditionary Force, and he was never to come back. On April 23, at the age of 28, he died of blood poisoning. He was the first of the war poets to be killed. He was intensely patriotic and his devoti-on to his mother country, England, is best expressed in the stirring lines from his poem, The Soldier. 2641's-as :L.lnfn'n.-nQ