Lake View High School - Red and White Yearbook (Chicago, IL)

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jlze .SJ0cia!.S?cience:5 .gyroufcl .fdwalfen 5 A study of the many Helds in the Social Sciences is necessary, if we are to develop into Ameri- cans who are appreciative of our hard won heritage. Not only for our own country, but reaching far across the seas to lands that are foreign to us, this Department purposes to increase our knowl- edge of our native land and other countries, and causes us to be mindful of the treasures we possess upon a free soil. A panel discussion on one of the maior problems of today is being conducted in Civics 2. Past events in Amer- ican History are brought to life through Visual Aid. The dramatization of a scene in the develop- ment of our great West.

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raining in RMU ana! .wduidion id igrouiafeal IN THE SPRING . . . A clean blue sky with an occasional fluff of white float- ing by, the soft splash of the rollicking waves as they break along the shore, budding trees, a graceful bird, a busy squirrel, and a carefree boy. These are the things that make a spring day. Occasionally there is rain, warm life-giving rain, which, after it passes, leaves the air fresh and crisp, with a pleasing smell that delights the nose and clears the mind. Green . . . green all around . . . with a stray patch of bright young flowers garnishing the lawns and rolling hillsides . . . Nicholas Poolos AA-6 THE SAGA OF POOR MORTIMER ' How do you do! I am Mortimer. I am a marshmallow. I live inside a cellophane bag with about sixteen other marshmallows. We live on a pantry shelf, and the only thing I have to complain about is that it is awfully crowded in here! l can always feel the other marshmallows breathing down my neck! Being a marshmallow is not too bad excepting that, when the weather is damp, I can feel myself going to pieces! I have a crush on Minnie, one of the girl marshmal- lows in the bag. She is so cute! Her skin is as white as snow, and when she smiles at me I iust about turn to powdered sugar. Someday soon I hope to ask Minnie to marry me, and then we can raise lots of . . . sweet violets. At times, I wish something exciting would happen. Well! Looks like my wish is going to be fulfilled. Here comes the lady of the house, and she is looking straight at me. She iust pulled the bag off the shelf and ripped it open. YEOW!! The little witch iust stuck a fork into me! She does not realize how tender I am! Now she is carrying me somewhere. She iust dropped me into some cocoa. Ahh! This is the life. Just floating around. One thing bothers me though. l seem to get smaller, and smaller, and smaller, and smaller . . . Bye. Grace Olivia 3A-4 Exploring the world of books. THE NEW ARRIVAL The day had come when we were to see her for the first time. Mother and Dad were iust as anxious over her arrival as my sister and I had been. The time had come when we were to decide upon a name for her. The final decision was Betsy . Anxiously awaiting her arrival we took turns going back and forth to the window. Minutes seemed like hours, and the hands on the clock seemed to stand still. The silence of the room only brought about the louder ticking of the clock, and, at long last, we were informed that she was here. She was so sleek and streamlined in her new powder blue coat. She lived up to our fondest expectations. Every part of her was glistening in the sunshine. The height of our anticipations was realized when my brother drove up in front of our house with our brand new car. The anxiously awaited new arrival had come! Barbara Buehlman IA-3 THE DECISION ' On a cold wintry night, a heartbroken boy carrying a gym bag, stopped on an isolated bridge. As the boy peered over the bridge landing, he saw himself in the reflection of the icy water. He was on a basketball floor, standing on the free throw line. The game was nearly over and his team was behind by one point. An eerie silence hung over the crowd. The first shot he took missed the rim by a foot. His next was as bad as the first. The game ended--the opposing team, the victor. These unpleasant memories were recalled by the de- iected boy on the bridge. lf it had not been for him, his team would have won. Why could not he have made that shot? Again the boy peered into the water. This time it did not give him a picture, but seemed to offer him a way out. ' All right, he said to himself, if this is the way it has to be, I shall go through with it. Yes, it was on a cold, wintry night that a gym bag floated down an icy river, and a boy decided to try his hand at football. Bruce Galler 3A-l l

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2 0 a greafer Ylnclerfifancbng o uman mfafiona ilad The classes in United States History strive to acquaint us with the back- ground of our country, and the reasons for its establishment. In the Civics class- es we dwell upon our republican form of government and the democratic way of life, and are encouraged to profit by the mistakes of our ancestors so that as potential leaders we will be able to as- sume civic responsibilities, and guard our freedom at the same time. Through the medium of open discussion, debate, the textbook, and visual aids, the events ot the past are revealed to every stu- dent before he leaves high school, to be grasped and used in his lite as a citizen of tomorrow. Parents greeted by the faculty in the Social Science Department. Charts ot all types help us to understand what we study. We learn to recognize the flags of the United Nations. X TH e GRE ffl, DECl5lO'f4