Louise S McGehee School - Spectator Yearbook (New Orleans, LA)

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Thirty-two THE SPECTATOR A-Sailing We Will Go It was May-Day morn and Spring was in the air. However, I was barely in a doze, for I had been awakened four times for school, and four times I repeated that I didn't have to go to school until four o'clock. Thoughts ran through my mind, thoughts of washing my hair, and catch- ing up on lost sleep. But at that moment the telephone rang and brought me back to the spring morn. The telephone was for me. Who in the world wanted to call at this hour. Hello, my voice sounded like somthing foreign and scratchy. Oh, hello, Patsy. Huh? Sailing? Now? Oh, sure, I'll pick you up in a half-hour. Who? Dottie, Te and Monk? Okay, seeya later. Well, I didn't think I'd ever see the day when I'd sail in that boat. Of course, they had invited everybody else already, but-a sail's a sail. Now I had to wash my hair and get dressed, and I knew the wind would blow my hair and it would look terrible for May Day. Having performed these duties in a rather lazy way, and having picked up the said people, we reached the boat. I had never seen the boat in water, only on land when I was working on it. The moment we got within five feet of it, everyone seemed to change character. They spoke in a foreign language, associated with strange people, and did extremely odd things. Following them, I jumped into the boat and began to get settled-oh, disillusionment! They all set to work doing something and thrust a basket in my hands and told me to get some cokes. When I asked where, they told me, Over there. That didn't help much be- cause over there could be anywhere. However, I set off light in spirit. I passed one place that said Bar with a Falstaff Beer sign underneath. I decided it couldn't be there so I went to another place which was closed. The third place was about a hundred feet away with a number of cars around it. I figured shorts 'weren't quite the thing to wear here, so I went back to the boat to get a skirt. When I got back everyone was working on a part of the boat except Patsy, who was talking to a very nice, sloppy man named Oscar, who wore a dirty captain's cap, asking him to come sailing with us. When they saw me approach without the cokes, they looked upon me with scorn and impatience. Patsy said she'd go with me to the place, grabbed the basket out of my hand, and marched in front of me. I followed meekly behind, still thinking we weren't dressed enough to go to the store. However, we didn't go to the store, we went to the place marked Bar, stood at the counter and waited for the cokes. After Patsy had spoken' to a few of the men lounging around there, and after we had been scrutinized to the utmost, we left with cokes.

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THE SPECTATOR Thirty-one maui P90515 X Poem My F Qther's In The Army Oh! There's something Qbout Q soldier! Before 1 go rushing off hctlt-cocked with ecstQcy-1 must tell you Cot course I cQn't-but I'1l tryl how wonderful it wQs to see PQpQ G1l9f 'two yeQrs of living with Q memory. PQpQ of 1939 wQs Q mQn of fifty, short-Qnd Cl must be irQnkl fQt. He WQs someone who took me to the movies Qnd tQught me to drive Q CGI- Qn Qngel who Qllowed me to chQlk up Q 55200 Qccident to experience. I wQs Q kid in 1939-but this WQs Christmds, 1941, Qnd I wQs beginning to get scgred. WhQt should I tQ1k Qbout? Would he be stuffy Qnd old- fgshioned? Oh!!! Christmas, 1941-WhQt Q mQn! Why he QctuQlly Qsked me if I'd seen Qny QttrQctive young men worth getting under the mistletoe! And now, to top it Qll, he's in the Army Qnd Skinny too Che only Weighs eight pounds more thQn I do! Yes, 1'm icrtl. lust think-l've hUd to brQg Qbout my uncle in the Army, but now, l'm Q CQptQin's dQugh- ter. The whole iQmily hQs gone wild! My grQndmother expects Q second MQcArthur Qny time now, Chloe is disgusted thQt PQpQ isn't Q Genergl so she cQn brQg to the Colonel's dQughter next door. MQmQ isn't pgrticu- 1Qrly excited-she sQW him in the lQst wQr. LilQ wQnts to know it he's Q soldier or Q SergeQnt: Qnd whQt Qbout me? Well- He mQy be Q greQt big genergl He mQy be Q SergeQnt-MQior Or he mQy be just Q privQte in the line, line, line. lt's Q militgry vest, seems to suit the lQdies best! There's something Qbout Q soldier thot is iQne! fine! fine! 42.

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THE SPECTATOR Thirty-three We retumed to the boat and shoved off into the pen. There was a great hustle and bustle of rigging the sail, fixing the stays, guiding the boat with the tiller, all of which I found myself no part and only in the way. The other people seemed to think so too, for they seemed always to be screaming at me to move. Someone told me to do something and I was just about to do it when another person shoved me over and said they could do it better themselves. After that, I squatted on the boat, observed the scenery, and watched Patsy, Dottie, and Te fight. After a great deal of trouble with the sail, whereby everyone said every two min- utes that it was fou1, we landed upon the high seas. Life seemed a little more hopeful then, so I peered around at my friends-but they didn't pay much attention to me. Patsy was intent upon sailing, Te and Monk were- disrobing, and Dottie was busy envying Patsy. I began to get settled, deciding a sunburn would look nice with my white dress. lust as I was peacefully feeling the rays of the sun, someone ordered me to lie on the other side. Being an obliging soul, I moved to the other side. I now know that it was the low side, or in other words, the side that the boat tilts to. Unsuspectingly, I lay down, only to have an over- sized wave wet my lower portion and splash my poor hair, which by this time had given up a number of bobby-pins. Being a normal person, I jumped up, screaming. That was not the thing to do. Four different people yelled not to jump up and a little water wouldn't hurt me, and threatened never to take me sailing again. When I lay back again, I found Patsy's feet where my head should be. Without asking, I decided their position there was essential to the sailing of the boat, and I moved down further. A number of things happened in rapid succession after that--the loss of Patsy's bobby-pins, the loss of Patsy's shirt, the turning around of the boat, and a remark made by me. All were pretty bad except my re- mark. That was awful. As the boat turned around with the boom skin- ning my hair, I made a remark to myself. I merely said, I don't care if you turn the boat over, just don't turn me over. The wind carried my words to the ears of the four owners, and immediately I felt I should have to swim the two miles in to shore. All the sunbaths were disrupted and I was again threatened in louder and more definite terms. I remained more or less silent the whole way home, feeling the sun beating on me and my hair falling down. By the time we got to the pen we were all on friendly terms and I was assigned a job to do-to push off when the boat ran into things. I was rather proud of my job and I stood on the bow feeling useful. We came near one boat and I was just about to do my job when Patsy did it and fell into the water. We came near another boat and I had my foot out when Dottie came and