Midwood High School - Epilog Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

Page 21 text:

X Now all we have lefl io wrile are a few songs, and af+er all, wha+ are a few songs anyway? The realizaiion of how many songs a few is does noi sirike immedia+ely. We expecf 'rhem fo come pour- ing in, and fhey do, and we read ihem, and we search vainly for someone who doesn'+ rhyme June and moon . Finally we scrape 'rogeiher a few diHies and gallanlly submii lhem +0 our Brooks A+kinson of Midwood, Mrs. Bella Tillis. Mrs. Tillis is The golden Hercules of Sing: producer, direcior, crific, and acfress all rolled info one. When she smiles, we know we have someihing good. When she doesn'+, well, +ha+'s when we s+ar+ wrifing all over again. Our scrip+ is comple+ed af las+ and we all become psychia'rris+s of high degree 'frying +o pu+ some poor Senior's mind back in 'rhe righf place. Everyfhing is on paper and fhe rehearsals begin. Three 'limes a week we find any available corner in Midwood and sing -off key, on key, wrong key, anyihing goes, buf we sing. Afier several rehearsals, solos are dis+ribu+ed fo +he deserving and we are all pre- pared fo go on sfage. Did I say prepared? Hah! The procedure 'fakes a+ leas+ a full day, wi+h every- one shoving +o si+ in +he firsf row, and casualfies cons+an+ly occurring from falls from 'ihe fop s+ep. The siaging begins, +he scrip+ loses i+s iden+i+y, The leader's arm begins fo sag, 'fhe piano keys wifher, and 'the sfage lighis are our only sunshine for 'two weeks, buf ihe spirii is always ihere. Every- one remembers how if was when we were Fresh- mankins in ihe land of Oz. We didn'+ quife win fheng we were second by fwo poin'rs. As Juniors we were defeciives looking for our los+ school. We won +ha+ year, and we liked i+. Now we're Seniors, and fhe figh+ fo win glows from everyone's face and all of a sudden +he nigh+ of December fwelfih is upon us. X 1? X 1? X Everyone s+ood dressed in his whi+e shiri and eye paich in 'rhe gym wai+ing for some lasf words of en- couragement Nervously fhe group 'rook places on ihe sfage. There was fhe inlroducfion, while every- one was silenf. Then 'rhe cur+ain flew open and ihe Senior class of neuro-psychia+ry I953 sang iis way fo vic+ory. Barbara Uhrman

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THE SOUND AND THE FURY Every day four fhousand sfudenls hurry pas! fhe bulle+in board on The side of 'rhe iirsl floor hallway wilhoui so much as a glance ai' if. Wi+h good reason loo, because seven monlhs ou! of lhe school year 'rhere really isn r much +o see on H. Bu! somelhing happens jus! abou! The lirsf week in Ocfober-lhe bullefin board becomes divided info four parls, one for each grade, and a sign goes up which reads Sing. ll is iusl' abou! 'then Thai a whole new approach of walking lhrough The hall begins. People don'l hurry by anymore: 'rheir pace lakes on a slow, casual air: ihey sfop in fron! of fhe me+al enclosed square and gaze excifedly looking for nolices. The word sing echoes down 'rhe hall once more. Faces begin sparkling wifh inspirafionp conver- safions become busy wifh ideas, fanfasies and impressions. Everybody is working! Midwood has a fhree-mon+h revolulion. The firs+ sing meefing is usually like a large par'ry, +he kind fha! could only be held a+ a hoiel. Where else could anyone fi! 300 lalking, laughing and screaming Seniors? A grea+ deal of work is always accomplished a+ 'The firsf meefing. This work consisfs of quieling The mob. Once 'rhis is effecled we fry very hard fo elecl' a chairman, leader, pianisf, and all 'rheir assislanls. Affer everyone has signed his nom-de-plume fo a piece of paper, we adiourn. Then we begin +o mee? af homes, and how Those homes suffer! The rooms begin +o have an impenelrable fog. The sludenls of higher learning pu+ fheir massive minds fogefher, s+uff fhemselves wi+h all available refreshmenis, and fry +o come up wilh a 'Theme and lyrics. Affer all, since Freshmankins and Defec+ives who can'+ find a school fhey are sfanding in have been used already, i'l is quile hard 'ro find some+hing original. Then, once again we have if! Ou+ of fhe smoke-filled din comes originalily once more!! Psychiafrislsl Freud!! We score once again!!! The iheme is finally conceived.

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AS I SAW IT ..... Canlaloups and razor blades! I+ is nearly over . . . 'rhe high school episode approaches Ihe Iasl cur- Iaing we 'rake our Iinal bow and leave, gracefully for +he mosl parl. As I si+ here, faking aparl my Senior hal' and medifafing upon Ihe inlinife scheme of Ihings, my 'rhoughls conlinually creep back over whal has Iranspired, and how I look il. The Greal Migralion . . . ah, yes . . . from fhe glory of a grammar school senior Io +he ignominy of a iddy biddy freshie. Gad, 'rhe hu- miliaiionl I looked up fo everyone Ihal year . . . a+ Ihe big old seniors, 'rhe room numbers, Ihe loud- speakers, Ihe poslers. I saw Ihings from 'rhe underside Ihen. If I only knew +hen whal I know now. Of course I Iried .... One day I came across a Senior in fhe Argus office, idly perusing an ancienl, lealher-bound volume of Pogo. Oh greal and learned oracle, sez I, WhaI have you 'fo 'reach me? Away, child, you vex me, sez he. I am noi one 'ro discourage easily. IIIus'rrious cannon-fodder, sez I, Ieave a bil of wisdom for poslerily. Imporl fo me a wee morsel of your boundless experi- ence. He closed his book, closed his eyes, and said, Small one, long ago Ihere came Io Midwood a freshman who had served six years in fhe Marines. This presenled +o lhe average senior a horrible enigma. Imagine, a freshman wilh a beard! Well, 'rhis guy wenl abou? daling senior girls, selling f .. ',:,,, , --.,.,7.:.,