Lima Central Catholic High School - Flame Yearbook (Lima, OH)

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lndasfrfhl Arts and Model Airplane Hubs AIRPLANE CLUB President ---- Merlin Dull Vice President - - Earl Dillehay Secretary - - - Jack Mohr Associates Secretary - - Tom Myers Treasurer - - Leon Dunning Advsior - - Mr. E. Clark Because of the interest in airplanes, the members of the Industrial Arts Club decided to' be- come a part of the Airplane Club. One of the members had a strange tale to relate. It seems that he had entered his room and heard one of his airplanes airing its views. Its conversation was this. Cavalier is my name. What's yours? I'm a sm-o-o-th red endurance plane. I've been bumped, plugged, rattled, and l've even crashed. I have been through all sorts of crises, but my lettering hasn't even been scretched. This shelf is getting dusty. In fact, I am too. What if I die? That would be a catas- trophe. Who would remember me? Ah! What a life I have led. It would be a pity if I were forgotten. My lovely life would not even be a memory. What shall I do to avert this danger? Let's see: ,, I was born in a factory. My crib was a dandy cardboard box and the blanket was the plans. What a wonderful childhood I had playing with my friends in a corner of the factory. But fate stepped in. CWhat's an autobiography without a little sadness?j Faithful fate came to me in the form of two men and a truck. They grabbed me and some of my friends and threw us into their truck. Soon we were bumping along the highway, feeling like a student of Central after the noon bell has rung. Through the night we rode in that merciless truck. Dawn found us being unloaded into one of those elevators that sink down below the sidewalk. Endless days in a stuffy storeroom followed. At last, a light! I was pulled off the stock and taken upstairs. Soon I found myself on a counter under some other plane kits. Struggling for a peep of my surroundings, I discovered that I was at a hardware store. Then I saw a boy approaching the counter. He asked for an airplane kit. In vain I kept pushing myself up, but the planes on top were too heavy. Anguished days of wiating followed. My heart would jump into the propeller and then play hopskotch on my ribs. At last Fate played hookey one day and I became a proud owner. I was taken to a club meeting and pulled out of my box. Slowly my bulkheads, ribs, stringers, and braces were shaped into my skeleton. I was planked with balsa and covered with silkspar. After being carefully lettered and painted, I was taken out to the airport for a test flight. Several other planes were tried, and then my owner tuned me up and then yelled, all set , and off I went. First, I soared up, up! I felt like a bird freed from a cage. Then to please my master, I made aloop, a dandy loop. Finally I went into a power dive. Down I went with the rush of air whistling past me. I began to get dizzy. The ground kept playing tag. My funeral was brief. My owner tenderly picked me up Cin pieces, of coursej and put me in my box. He lovingly held me as we left the airport. Upon reaching home, sniff! he brushed his sleeve across his eyes. Sniff! He took one last long look at my broken remains. Sniffl Say, what is this? I'm still alivef My emotions have carried me beyond the present. I better get back on the beam! Oh gee! I'm in a rut! I've lost my creative mood. Oh, well! I'll stock up for another day. DEANA FILLIPS -127-