Lowe High School - Towers Yearbook (Windsor, Ontario Canada)

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T H E T () VV EKS I’a«c Thirty-Five For The Fallen (On seeing a school plaque in my imagination) By chance. 1 came upon the plaque. Which hung upon the will; Without delay, my thoughts turned back. To boys who heard the call. Those days have passed; but thoughts remained— Sweet memories of youth Who laughed and played, and toiled and trained. Within our hails of Truth. With hands equipped; and hearts endowed. With wills to serve and give, They left these halls, forsook th crowd, To die that we might live. Herein the midst of fun and growth, I hear their voices still— “Free minds, fill hearts feed souls, fire youth To do the Father’s will”. We pray our deaths be not in vain. We know you will be true. And carry forth the Light to reign In hearts, and sin subdue”. “This happy land in which we rrst Is not so far beyond; And our last wish is your request. To make secure the bond”. —T4A STUDENT Blindness K ' c may have lots of money And think we ' re rich, oh sure. But it really isn’t funny when We realixe we are so poor. Poor, because we arc blind. When all around us lies Beauty which wc cannot find Because of our sightless eyes. Vie are poor because we are deaf To the voice of the wind and the sea. And at night we are scared to death Of the gentle murmurs of a familiar tree. As we walk along, our feet are bound To city pavements and country moor. Looking for adventure that can ' t be found Because wc are so poor. By MARGARET SCHRAM, C3B The Great Tornado One day a great tornado, Hit our quiet peaceful shore. And families who were happy Are not happy any more. It came across the river That is flowing gently by Between good old Canada And the land of liberty. The people all were resting From a day of honest toil When sudden disaster hit them, And brought on great turmoi l. W ithout respect for persons Or the rank they held in life it took the rich or the poor man And his daughters, sons and wife. And writhing like a serpent Scattered houses on the street The noise and heat were terrible ! The destruction was complete! This frightening tornado With hot and fevered breath Left many people dying And others cold in death. The telephones quit ringing The radios went dead. No light or water in our homes! ' Twas a time of fear and dread. Now nations get to-gethcr And the big four tiar their hair Because now in the atom age We have to live with care. They talk of great inventions. Jet propulsion and radar. By men with good intentions X ho have come from nxar and far. Rut in Windsor we have learned And 1 know you will agree There is a power greater Than atomic energy. If we have provokxd God’s wrath To create this awful strife Let us bow down on bended knees And pray for home and life. —BERNICE SHA X

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Page Thirty-Four T H E T O W E K S Wit and Wisdom . . . (Continued from Page 33 ) That’s Telling Him, Lady! A curb-cruising wolf drew up alongside a cute bobby soxcr and asked: Going my way, baby ? Said the bobby soxer: “No. I get a harp at the end of mine.” No, No, No! Which recalls the wolf of the woods who drove a gal out into the bosky places, turned off the motor and asked for a kiss. She shook her head for a half hour before he discovered she had her nose caught in the windshield wiper. Questions! Questions! 1, Why do you suppose a train never sits down? Becausa it has a tender behind. £ What animals do most ladies keep in their bedrooms ? Mules. .5. Why is a w ' ise boy like a pin? Because his head prevents him from going too far. 4. What flowers do you wear all year round? Tulips (two-lips). 5. What has a foot at each end and one in the middle ? A Yardstick. 6. How can you prove that there is no difference between 1 and 10? Naught is the difference. 7. One morning a boy couldn’t find his trou¬ sers so w r hat did he do? He raced around the room until he was breathing in small pants. 8. What shows that your father is lazier than you are? Because he is longer in bed. 9. Does- a train have ears? Yes, it has engine-eers. 10. Why does a girl tie ribbons in her hair? To get beaux (bows). - + - Apologies . . . We offer our apologies to those who wrote articles which are absent from The Towers. We regret that it was impossible to find space for everything. Thanks for your generosity. The EDITORS. Announcement On or about May 1. we will move to our new permanent location downtown—the second and third floors of the Bank of Montreal Building, comer of Ouellette Ave. and Chatham St., one-half minute from the Bus Depot. REMODELLED INTERIOR ALL NEW MODERN EQUIPMENT EFFICIENT TEACHERS Windsor Business College Entrance 15 Chatham St. E, R. J. SERVICE, Principal Phone 3-4921

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Page Thirty-Six T H E T O W EKS POETRY Vision of Huron Did You Ever . . . It was cvcninie then on Huron water, and the sun was setting. Far heyond the mighty water, fishermen were pulling in their netting. The waves rose high, they surged on and on toward the shore. Then dashed their bubbly foam and fell to lake once more. All was lonely, save for a crying gull swooping down against the azure sky Watching, Searching, for a little food before the night was nigh. The fresh lake wind blew cooler and passed gently o’re the fringe That nodded down like thin green reeds with a bit of bluish tinge. The little wisps of clouds were slowly crossing by. And suddenly there rose a solemn Indian head in the western sky. His eyes were brave and blue, and bore a look far-seeing. The head was uplifted. a challenge true to being. His voice was the gentle wind that came murmuring through the trees, The mysteriousness of birch trees whispering in the breeze. Each living thing immortal, seemed to have a reckoning And understood the strangeness of the grave old Indian beckoning. I knew not what he thought or whatever he was saying. Perhaps of tribes way back or Indian totem praying. Or w’as it of the white man ' s plodding through a land forbidden, A land that was their home and life, from w ' hich his kin were ridden. The sun was set. the crimson ribbons slowly diminished from the sky, The black curtain of night came on as night was growing nigh. And so the woods. their slumber wrapped to sleep. The Vision of Huron sank in the deep. MARTHA SAWICH , CIE The Brook O’ LITTLE BROOK BESIDE THE « AY, WHY DO YOU UNGER SO? WHEN BIRDS AND BEES GO BY YOUR W AY YOUR BEAUTY THEN YOU SHOW. THE TREES THAT BEND OVER YOU WITH BLOSSOMS BRIGHT AND GAY AND THE BIRDS THAT HOVER OVER YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL ALONG YOUR WAY. By PATRICIA LO lit, C2B Did you ever look up at the sky And often wonder the reason why— The stars shine only in the night Or how the dark turns into light, Or if we will ever find That clouds are really silver-lined. Did you ever wonder at the sight Of the daring beauty of the night. Did you ever watch snowflakes fall And cover up a garden wall The snow gets deeper as they land But why do they melt if caught in your hand. Why do they always seem so bright And why aren’t they blue instead of white. But you and I, we know by far We would sooner have them as they are. Did you ever dream of the East or West The place to build your little nest— In the sunset land, you see from your room Lots of horses and the sage in bloom. The East brings crowded streets and stores And tall, stuffy buildings with many floors And though you may want more of Spring than Fall ■’ he world really isn’t so bad after all. MARGARET SCHRAM , CJB Da Shortahand I taka da class in da shortahand Whcech Icarna wan how to write queeck By da use of da curves and da straight lines In da place of da words wat wan spceck. Eat’s da craziest subjec, dees shortahand; You learn da rule hard at night; Den learna een class on da nex day Da rule eet eesn’t always just right. Your paper eet look like da crows’ feet Ees dance da great jeeg over set. But da scratches dey all ees got meaning And you gatta read dem back queeck. You learna da thesngs wat called breef forms Dcy’s breefer den da words wat ees drawn; And da words wat ees drawn dey getta breefer Until dey ees almost all gone. Da man wat ees maka da shortahand Ees Scotch, da teacha she say. I guess dat’s da reason da shortahand Gets breefer and breefer each day. k an day een class, I betcha. Da teacha. she ees going to say. Da shortahand ees gatta so shorta We’ll shorten our work in dees way— X e’ll usa no pencils, no paper. We’ll usa our beeg brains eenstead; You leesten. I’ll drcctate da letta— Den you write eet all back from da head. , —M. G., C3A