Lincoln High School - Bear Yearbook (Bloomington, MN)

Page 9 text:

Even sophomores take time out to talk between classes. If she puts that stuff on my hand I'll scream. Rock and Roll is here to st3y. Hmmm . . . seems to be working now. It is true that guys have learned to cook. Now what did they say that was called? Now everybody look over here. Sophomores 5

Page 8 text:

The Beginning It all began one sun shiny summer morning, when I awoke to find that it was no longer summer, for in fact it seemed that summer had indeed passed me by. Something in the air told me that morning, that school was about to begin. Maybe it was the smell of oatmeal on the stove, the sound of Dad cursing at the school lunch prices, or the feeling of vultures in my stomach. Yes, I knew it had to have been those vultures. As I was wisked out the door in the general direction of last years bus stop, I stopped to think, “where was last years bus stop? For it seemed that the bus schedule had not yet arrived a week before school started as promised. I high-tailed it up the stairs of the bus and somewhere found an empty seat. Only later was 1 to realize mine was the first stop. As I sat contemplating the year to come, 1 thought of the com- forting message my mother had given to me, Be brave, and face that school head on.” So I did, and it hurt. I entered the school door cautiously an. and as I walked in I was quickly snatched into the high speed pace of the school. Students, teachers, every- one hurrying around like they didn’t know what was going on. I soon found out that the hours started to drag on just like they had in pre- vious years. I knew that if 1 could make it through the rest of my World History class, 1 would have it made. Twenty minutes later, 1 was off again. That didn’t last long though because I got stuck in a traffic jam. Toward the end of the day. I began to wonder why all of those registration papers said to be sure to bring my student I.D. card the first day. I brought it, as told and my bus driver didn’t want to see it, no one wanted to identify me! My I.D. got stuck on the shelf in my locker, where it will lay, until I can find the Library. I was glad to hear the bell. Now just two hours of marching band practice, and I can call it a day. Till tomorrow where at the same time and place, those vultures will once again be flying. Cheryl Capron types Intensely during her third hour class. Mark Thomas uses the microscope during class. Our principal, bums on the sophomores. 4 Sophomores

Page 10 text:

it was my brilliant ideal Now this is the life. Halfway There I stand in the middle. The newness that was once, is no more. I think of the years completed not as a summing up, but as a graph of a process still going on. A past filled with growing and learning stands behind me. Before me; my final year in high school. I know that we as juniors, have just begun to touch upon a life that will open the gateway to many forms of change and opportunity. That everything learned is the key, and whatever still can be used will be. I haven’t set complete goals. I have reached no conclusions. With so much left to understand, I await my final years with fear and hope. Because the days pass so quickly, and time is hard to grasp. I feel that this year was my most imponant year. Another hour another class. Now this is the correct way to do it. Kathy Lande and Bill Bohn relax during break. You've got to be kidding! Lisa Ballstadt studies for English. Sitting in classes Is a very good pastime. 6 Juniors