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

Page 29 text:

HOW OFTEN and in how many differ- ent lights have I seen that statue. I've seen it when the bright sun twinkles the bronzed eye and transforms the clothing into blazing armour. I've wit- nessed the same statue on dark. dismal nights when the rain is iust a saturat- ing torrent. Yet to see his stalwart form. to capture the radiant smile of confidence seems to wann the icey rain. But today. the spring air is en- riched with the scent of flowers, the trilling' of birds and the statue of Ken- neth Duncan appears in a new light. a light of rebirth for the l-ong, cruel winter is over. I read the inscription as I have done so many times before. Believeth in Him that hath created ye. and ye shall be saved. As I do so I can only think of the story which places Kenneth Duncan in the hearts of all Kildare. Though, the statue wasn't in rememberance of the boy. but in commemoration -of his belief and faith in his Creator. Kenneth lived two hundred years ago when this town was sparsely set- tled. His father was the village smithy and when it came time for Kenneth to attend Sunday School. Mr. Duncan forged his son a cover for his Bible with the finest -of Scotland's blue steel. Ken- neth would never come straight home after Sunday School. He. like all boys. loved to roam through the woods with his dog. The two were inseparable. One Sunday as the two were roam- ing. Kenneth spied a cave. Without deliberation he entered. the dog be- hind. Darker and darker it grew until he was lost in a maze of inky black- ness. Then. in this dark black cave. he stumbled. he tried to move but his ankle pained him so he couldn't move. Of Scot'land's Blue-Steel HELEN WOLTMAN Suddenly a roar split the silence. Ken- neth. terrified. huddled himself against the wall. shaking with fear. The dog. sensing his master's danger. barked and snarled excitedly. edging his way forward. A low growl. a flash of fur and the fight was on. Kenneth strained to see the combat but he could only hear the gnashing of teeth and the scuffle that would soon result in death. They fought clos- er and closer to Kenneth who could make out the dog's opponent to be a mountain lion. As Kenneth struggled painfully to his feet to aid his bleed- ing. tom companion. the dog yielded his last painful howl as the cat's teeth sunk deeply into the dog's throat. Kenneth. tears glistening on his cheeks. rushed at the cat with his only weapon. his steel-covered Bible. His blow was swift. striking the battle- weary animal below the ear. The dull thud of the blow re-echoed from far into the cave as the cat fell motion- less. The boy limped painfully and mournfully home where it was de- termined that he had a broken ankle. How then could he have stood? How could he. so young and so excited have wielded a death blow to a moun- tain lion with merely a steel-covered Bible? So we have erected a monu- ment to that small boy who has proven to us that: Ye who believeth shall be saved. 27

Page 28 text:

Clairvoyance MARILYN BANDIERO MY KNEES shook slightly as I walked down the dimly lit corridor to the courtroom. The mirror-bright marble walls reflected my image. From around the corner I could hear the porter whistling happily as he polished the brass plate beside the door. Good moming. sir. Kinda early aren't you? Yes I am. I have some papers to put in order. My voice was calm despite my moist palms. Well, good luck, sir, and he started to whistle again. I entered the main courtroom and walked to my seat. From outside I could hear the steady drumming of the rain as it beat listlessly against the stone of the building. The sky was dull and heavy with scattered black- ned patches. Through the heavy mist that cloaked the world I could see the distant fields, with the trees weighted and drab looking in the early morning hours. The air in the room was dusty, as if the floor had just been swept and the iudge's bench cast a shadow across the table at which I sat. I removed my raincoat and hat. then took from the briefcase that was a gift from my wife. a sheaf of papers. As I sat looking fondly at it, it began to age, and soon the gold stamped initials on it were worn and tarnished, the leather soft and creased. I reached out to touch 26 it and my hand was one of an older man. I looked about me, the court- room was hushed and I could hear the excited whispers of the crowd as I walked confidently forward. I thought then of my friends who had called the night before to wish me luck. and I thought also of Lucy my wife. She had been so concerned that morning when I had refused breakfast. Through all my years of studies, it was always she who had pulled me through-always she who was strong where I was weak. That moming when she came downstairs with my raincoat. I was busy looking for my cardboard portfolio. When I tumed, she was standing there with the new leather one. He's famous. crowed an elderly woman. He's going to be made a judge, another said. Who is he? piped up a young voice answered by a neighbor. Why he's Ioseph Nebur. A loud crash of thunder brought me back to reality and I looked about me in amazement. The people were gone. the bench empty. I sat there awhile. dazed and at last a few early arrivals entered the rear door. and I realized they were coming to see me. To see me present my first case. I rose from my seat to go to my client and my knees were steady. my head high. I heard a few whispers. That's Ioseph Nebur. i They say he's going places. This is his first big case. D I glanced out of the window. The storm was over. The calm was be- ginning.

Page 30 text:

I LIKE the summer with its sticky, humid weather. I like to ride, all alone, through the hot, dim woods, with spots of sifted sun beating on the hard ground. In a minute I come to the hollows: the terrible, deep-bot- torned hollows, smelling of decaying leaves and dead water, where there is insufferable heat. The sound of the horse's feet is a confused heart beat on the swampy ground. I dismount and stand for a while, as the sweat HEAT WAVE trickles down my back. The green gloom is sultry, mystifying. From far away in the upper meadows a cicada reaches an unbearable, sharpening crescendo. The queer atmosphere is too much for me. Dizzy and faint, I climb upon the horse and find the path that car- ries me to a long field. The meadow grasses are dusty gold in all this heat and when I kick my horse and gallop, a million flies fly from the horse's neck and get lost in the eternal cloud of dust. A hot wind caresses me. It scrapes my temples and rakes my hair. Faster and faster, hotter and hotter. Veins begin to bulge through the horse's 28 body of muscle. Straining and throb- bing, I pull up at the end of the field. The sweat pours down my face making my hair cling, dank and damp to me. I slide down the horse's wet side and slowly we walk into the woods. The water in the swimming hole is soup-warm and dappled with leaves. Sitting down under a tree, I realize that I shall never stop sweating. My mind goes round and round, being submerged by the smells, the touch of bark under my fingers and the sick- ening taste of flowers on the stagnant air. This heat is immense, breathing, terrible. It throbs within, pulsating and liberating, like Indian tom-toms. How I wish for a breeze! I press my fingers desperately into the damp earth and I can feel the exquisite touch of wet grass against my cheek. 4, v ntl! yy x ff' bp lvf' Z' lk full' lit ll f X but flx G ll P. f 4 gf if A x ,, . 1 .. 'W 1 .-li' -mV'-1 V i:-ii--' -. V-..1t,:f.t.. It v.,::Jqf-- Qs. ffaliwf 11- t Q ,.,i,l'g5.. Q, 5 vga A. f1Q.kE,5 X 'VV 5 -V, 5 I I r t, , ...fr-1 ' IX fix if K f' llll '9f ' Xvll X ,- . . ', ' 2 'Yr'- 'Xjlb 37 ' lt if f 4,7 'Q ff- ' Y u Illustration by Norman Brown