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

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S - if-1 , Q QLOQG 'f'JiJk' fr , - R -,gs X vigil 'I Xe 1 W 'ltr 'VE' X-ft X I .. I5 I X N- .1 rpg, X X .1 .lim I Til- i .iiibzn -li 'f ilm N. :Te if I tj it I M I A' -I3 P-A, ' ..., . .1 ,Y ' , at , V. -55N T ll' ' iff f 'fi Y if ' .iffy ff ii'-Eli. I 1, rr i all . I . -Eff . I ' rv X, jf. - h 59 '- ATIFIF ' ry fs in 121'-is ' I -fra .- ' Y l --, ' 4 T - i '-rl' STEUNGUIAN Senior ook Back CYNTHIA RUTSTEIN THE FUTURE holds something different for each one of us. As I gaze back upon the events of my past four years in john Adams, I realize my mistakes and wonder why many of them could not have been prevented. In a few days upon graduation, I will take a large step toward adulthood, not knowing what profession I will pursue. In the fall of 1953, I entered John Ad- ams as a timid freshman, unaware of what was ahead for me. I had a limited outlook on life and wasn't prepared for future oc- currences. Now, leaving as a Senior, I feel melancholy and will always have the memo- ries of my high school years instilled in my mind. The G.O. dances, the basketball and soft- ball games, the never-ending excitement of the swimming meets and the wonderful career conferences, the teachers who took special interest in me to help guide me on the right path of life, the many people I learned to Ioveg the dramatic presentations in which I participated, and the one in which I forgot my linesg the last minute rushing of the galleys to the printerg some of the reports I received that made my par- ents proud of meg the public speaking con- tests I never won. Those of us who participated in these activities learned that there is a master word. work, Not only has it been the touch- stone of progress, but it is the measure of success in everyday life. Wfhen suddenly experiencing sorrow, disappointment or dis- couragement, work is the remedy to bring you back to a normal and happy state. All of us learned ilu! among all, This word, work, has inspired the great men of the earth, our Pasteurs, Edisons, Rodins and .1 host of others. Wfe learned that when failure whispers to us, we should disregard it . . . and work. Vlfe learned just what type of work we were to engage in. Then it is, as you improve, that work grows upon you and becomes a part of you. The one who meets his life work easily, is the one who is the happiest. We also acknowledged that there are no easy jobs and that those who lake pride in their work are the great lead- Ufnfflfflfrnf nu llagr Sli

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ehanged her minel anel we-nt into her room, Charles sighed deeply: Laura is wonder- ful, but she doesn't unelerstanel, and, l ean't tell her. The tall, dark-haire-el, good look- ing man tell down on his be-el anel slowly rolled over on his stomaeh. He was thinking baek, baek to his boyhooel days when the same fears tormented him. lt was always elarknessg he remembered he was always terrified of it. He remembereel onee when he was ten years old he had a terrible heaelaehe anel he was taken first to a eloetor and then he was tolel to go to an eye doetor. 'l'he doetor, a big burly man, took him into the dark room to examine his eyes. Charles became frightened and started sereaming anel soon beeame so hysterieal that he punebeel the eloetoi' and tried to nnel his way to the exit. He kept bumping into sharp instru- ments anel tripping on blunt obje-ets. He' knoekeel over a tray of red lieyuiel and be'- eame soaked with it, lle' tell twiee' and with his hysterieal se reaming he beeaine so hoarse' he eouleln't even talk. As he piekeel himself up from the- eolel lloor, he was suelelenly blinded with a bright stream of light, The doetor hael lin- ally opened the door. His mother anel elael eame' running in and took him outside and finally home, The examination was never completed and from that day on Charles Browning would never go to an eye doctor, or for that matter, ever stay in a dark room. He elidn't know the name for being afraid of darkness, but he did know that there was something terribly wrong with him. His headaches came every night and only when it was dark. He would always dream the same dream, night after night, that he was walking in a long dark hall with a blind mans stick as his only guide. ln back of him was a shaft of light-but he couldnt turn around to face it, he could only walk ahead into darkness. At the end of his dream, he would wake up yelling for help. but soon stop for the room was always well lit. Laura made sure of that. Tonight though, why hadnt the lights been on? Laura cer- tainly didn't forget, not after six years. Oh well, he said aloud, l'll t.1lk to her tomorrow, lle ltttlleel oyer on his baek and soon liell asleep. llie sleep was deep and l.IItellsttIt'laeel. As he opened his eyes to greet the new day he saw standing oyer him a man, the same' big burly eye eltjelelf who treated him llllllll' years ago. i'Hello. Mr, Browning. elo you remember ine! . he smiled thiekly, XWliat elo you want here, get outg leaxe me be. Now eome, Mr, Browning, l'm only an eye physieian. l eouldnt hurt you. Did you know that your loyely Xyile sent tor me, Mr. Browning! She- says that you hayer been haying migraine headaehes and nightmares about blindness anel slle' also states that you are- alraid ol darkness. lt you ask me, Mr, Browning, you need a pliysieiatrist, but maybe- your troubles ell! lie in your eyes, so Mr. llroxxning, let's haye a look. l.aura, what hayeg you eloneg eltb you know who this m.in is, what .iie you trying to elo to me! l3ai'ling, lie still, Ur, .Xlosse IA is only go' ing to elleeli your eyes, As the eloetor approaelieel him fharles eringeel away. Reealling the time in the dart: room, the' reel lieyuid, the blunt obieets, the eloetor's eolel hands. Charles started seream ing, His heaelaehe eame' baek, but now it wasn't dark. XVait f-it was getting dark but it was early morningfnever the less, it was growing darkerfelarker-and and then darkness forever. Mrs, Browning, your husband, hes to- tally blind, incredible but true. l don't be- lieve I've ever seen a man go blind before my eyes, but there you are. Charles, Laura screamed. Can yoa see ? Charles smiled, Mommy: daddy, take me home from here. The man is mean and I'm afraid of that dark room Charles, Laura cried now, XWhat are you saying-do you feel alright? Please take me home now. l'm afraid of this dark place. please take me home. ltis so very dark .... 7 .5 Yi' ,gin Xix 1 f1j:.,,,' T14 ' A 4 P 1

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, 1 NOONE can read a true account of Edgar Allan Poe's life and not feel that he was one of the world's ill-fated ones-born under a troubled star and an evil aspett. Fortune smiled upon him but was always eluding him. Poe's laik of the eternal mo- ralitiesu may be traced to a childs earliest sense of insecurity. His mother, a frail danc- er rather than an accomplished actress, sut- eumbed to pneumonia in Richmond, Vir- ginia, a year after the birth of her third child. Although the boy was only three years old, the shock of death and the feeling of separateness must have shaken him pro- foundly. As Hervey Allen wrote in the monumental I,riz1fe!: The Life mm' Timer nf Edgar Aflfm Poe, Even a child of three may be conscious at the time that his own little familiar world has gone to pieies about him , . .He must have experienced for the first time the extreme sense of fear and utter loneliness whith was to follow him to the grave. l believe this sense ol lear and growing insecurity was grave enough to the rhildg it int reased with the knowledge that he was dependent upon a foster father who sup- ported but never legally adopted him. As a result, l think he turned desperately to the childless Mrs. Allan, just as later in life the man turned to other women for love - not so much for love itself, but for love as a protection against a world that seemed not only melancholy but malign. lt was in England that he began to writeg a poem written at the age of twelve, reveals how early he was beginning to feel, and use, the abiding sense of loneliness and ter- ror. The unhappy tone of The Lake does not differ greatly from the normal morbid- ity of adolescence, but its heavy with his peculiar and languorous music: Elf! zebwz Nigbf had Ibrozwz flie ju!! I.-10012 tba! Jpal, at upon all, Azzzz' Ike myrljr wind uiezzz by Mznwzlzriizg in melody- Tbezz-afy, 168117, I would JULIE? To Ifae furor of Ibe lone late, Full of lone imagining Poe returned to America. Poe had extremely warm friends and admirers, and exceedingly bitter he Trage y of Israfel NINA C lAllNll rv w '0 jf: . 4ii' 'f enemies. llis Iiriimls Imttl him lin' his simple and ihihlhke tliaratler, lor. as tai' as he iuuhl lu, Pot was giiiemus and gralt ful. lhey also admired him tm' the genius they fell in all his work, little as they sometimes understood it. His enemies were of a more or less pubht tharatter, that is, those whom he reviewed unfavorably, whose literary pretensions he exposed, and whose weaknesses he laid bare and lashed with his peculiarly cutting ridicule. As these enemies were for the most part literary men and women, while his friends were mostly drawn to him by ties of per- sonal character and were not often remark- able for literary ability. I can see why the slanders regarding his character spread, while appreciation has been allowed to be- come forgotten. I feel that this, in some way, accounts for Poe's misfortunes. At the age of twenty-seven, Poe married his cousin, Virginia, who was thirteen, When Virginia died, at the age of twenty- four. he kept himself alive with work and morphine. There is little doubt that she was the inspiration of his most poetic work. She was Eleonora in the Valley of the tCoiz1ffz11ed on new piggy 9