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

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hazy mountains in the distance formed an imaginary fence, making an island paradise for my few thoughts. These mountains were a gown of shaded pur- ple with a collar of glistening white sequins that sparkled when the sun's piercing rays touched them. The distant trees stood stately and tall as did the one in which I was sitting. Their lofty branches swayed slowly in the whis- pering breeze that seemed to be calling to them, and, as if drawn by magnets on the sun's rays, these branches did look as if they were answering the call of some hidden voice. hidden in the mysteries of the skies. My thoughts at this time were usually shattered by the buzzing of a bee mak- ing ready to perch on some sleeping victim, or the ringing bark of a tired dog calling for his master who was lazily sifting the hay in the loft of the barn. Then, as if by magic, all became still again and I returned to my enchanted paradise once more. Looking up into the sky. my main interest was the clouds: not ordinary clouds such as we know, but living clouds. They floated slowly over the velvet blue of the skies, forming different shapes as th-ey stayed on their perpetual courses. They were floating like the whitecaps on a sea. floating like snowflakes to some un- known fate and floating like pieces in a puzzle. Then suddenly everything was gone, as the crimson gold sun lost itself at the horizon, and at last the dia- mond-like stars dominated the heavens. CLAIRE SPELLER I AM a lonely windswept hill some- where in Korea. Centuries long gone by have seen me standing here, peace- ful and serene. But now my verdant plains are wet with blood that men who fought for freedom have spilled in th-eir wake of death and destruction. Still the echo of the sound of tramping feet and the bursting of shells rings clear in my hollows. The cry of the wounded soldiers still sighs through my canyons like the cry of an infant who longs for his mother's protecting arms. No longer are my fields fresh with flowers. Now they are laden with rows of white crosses which hallow my grounds. The ones who lived through the torrent of terror which swept clean my plains will never forget me. I justly deserve my name. I am Heartbreak Ridge. ROBERT MCCARTHY 21

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ngiarrlufsf ON BOTH sides of the very narrow country road. huge. bright green trees were growing. Their branches en- twined at the top. forming an archway over the road. It was like the archway in a church. Through the openings of the embracing branches golden stair- cases from the earth to heaven were formed by the sun's rays. The birds added the final note by singing their hymns. The scene was beautiful but under the circumstances we didn't whole-heartedly appreciate it. for we had run out of gas and it was a one mile hike to the gas station. CLAIRE SEBURGER I LOOKED out of the window and saw a riot of colors: reds. greens. blues. yel- lows: every color was there. Never had I seen such bright shades. The sun only increased their brilliance. Of course. I knew the reason for their ra- diance. for hadn't I washed the clothes on the line myself? PEARL SCHNECK A TREE is one of nature's most beautiful creations. In summer its branches and leaves provide protec- tion for nature's children. In winter. its snow-covered. tentacle-like limbs paint a vivid picture on nature's can- vas. A tree also serves practical pur- 20 x il . if 5 f --5 s 7 it 'il ali J ' tp , Gi 1 E ' 'fx lf f Q J eil - , Z X r' vs. ' fi g ff QL ,QB ,E -' E, V, if ha s . ,1- 'x 5' .4 l' Q' 4 M sig ' ,W i g A :Q f-:gs ggr s .-g ii gfil gi. , W- -1.5151 f f' s 2. '-wx. x 1.1: 2 ' ,A i e was? site Q .fit 3 .1-513. 'uit 3 .zezasff 4122 'FTS' . .lf poses. When cut into lumber it pro- vides a home for men of all colors and creeds. Set firmly in its founda- tion, it remains a silhouette against the picturesque sky until its master. God. wishes to dispose of it. IUNE IORDEN IT WAS usually my habit. on hot sultry days like this. to sit in the huge apple tree at the back of our vast orchard and witness lazily the amazing won- ders of nature surrounding me. The

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'lw his N in - I. s ' g A S i s Q Q A . . X 1 ,Q S . N ,fs ? 5 Fig X Y A Q is 3 5 0 L X A C , Nu Q :fl E b E FLASH! A mysterious glow appeared E in the distance. The early morning H snow filled the air. denying the eyes the right of perceptive vision. The low. unearthly rumble once more resound- ed, splitting the perfect peace of a De- cember morning. The sound's last echoes are heard as winter's torrential armies of glistening white once more close the distant gates from which a brilliant glow emerged in the darkness of dawn. During that instant's illumination. a number of tents were revealed to earth against the new snow-covered wood- land background. Winter had arrived quickly for some. but not half soon enough for others. To the newly indoctrinated forces of an in- famous human conflict. winter, along with its inevitable suffering. carried the hope of delay at cessation of hostilities which every day added to the list of human heartbreak and agony. How- ever, to the more seasoned participants of the conflict. winter brought memo- ries of the previous year. Last winter. they had also entertained such ideas of returning home in time for Christmas. that of a stop to the outrageous spilling of human blood at the front and human 22 tears behind the lines. Instead. they. who had survived. witnessed such things as the pen put to paper may not well describe but that the blood drained in the earth well discerns. These men knew all too well that winter in Korea brings no hope but only despair for the men destroying the ene- my in order that they instead should survive. Among the Army tents. which a dist- ant flash of an explosion had revealed through the snow, was that of P.F.C. Roger Nelson and his buddy. That ex- plosion had seemingly disturbed young Nelson in his dreams. for his buddy. although asleep, had trembled. Yet Roger slept on, subconsciously strug- gling to hold onto one of the few pleas- ant dreams which had come to him dur- ing his brief stay in Korea. Truly it was a pleasant subconscious thought that lingered in his mind. He was in Korea, but his thoughts were at home! Home. -1 a tenement building on South Second Street. Brooklyn. Home, -- his parents. brother and friends. Home - in America. enjoy- ing peace. It seemed hard to imagine that there was peace somewhere. Somewhere men were not troubled with the thought that they were for the last time seeing the light of day. Somewhere, children were happily playing in the street. and not crying over the body of a parent! -Crash!! A third explosion. not too far away, for the ground trembled, awoke Nelson! It was yet early but the sun had risen and the snow. which had stopped falling. was melting. A fateful day in Roger Nelson's life was begin- ning. The day began routinely for an American patrol in the front lines on that December morning. Nelson and his buddies went about their usual busi-