Niles Junior High School - Milestones Yearbook (Bronx, NY)

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REVELATION--INSPIRED BY A RADIO BROADCAST The air was filled wiTh The i ing and a ing of man do s. The man sTanding ouTside The wire gaTe cockeidjhis head ian5plisTened. Tkilere 5165 someThing odd abouT This man. SomeThing ThaT broughT our eye back To his Tace. He was Tall and slim wiTh The sTraighT carriage oT a soildier. buT This was noT iT. His Tace had The same qualiTy in iT ThaT old brown IeaTher has. Tough. wrinkled and hard. buT This was noT iT eiTher. RaTher iT was The eyes. His eyes were pale blue. aImosT .colorless, and They were cold. and They were sTaring. and They senT cold shivers down your back. His record in The war deparTmenT read. Jon SmiTh. IsT World War. blinded by a blow Trom a rifle buTT. I Jon SmiTh was abouT To see The dream oT many years come True. On The ground beside him lay an old knobby cedarwood cane. In his TisT was clenched a meTaI ring. On The oTher end oT The Thong There was a Tall brown dog. Tom was The besT seeing-eye dog in The BrenTwood kennels. A Tew minuTes beTore Jon had walked ouT oT The gaTe and had sTopped. WiTh a deep breaTh he Tossed aside his old cane. Tom looked aT The lace ThaT had been his home Tor so many monThs. Then he Turned his head and Iookiued aT his masTer's Tace. Tom pulled im aTienTly on The leash. anxious To geT home. The deserTs oTpMonTana are lonely. And yeT Jon loved The soliTude. Tom and he would s+and Tor hours smelling The biTTer-sweeT odor oT The cacTus pIanTs and idenTiTying The various sounds ThaT waTTed abouT him. ThaT graTing noise like The scrape oT an emery board was The wind brushing over The hard sand. ThaT Twirp was The call oT The deserT bird. ThaT rurr was The raTrTIe oT . . . Jon caughT himseIT up. ThaT raTTle would mean only one Thing! And he couldn'T even see The snake! His hands groped em Ty air. Tom! Where was Tom? How could he TighT againsT someThing he couldi1'T see? Where had he gone? Suddenly he TeIT Tom's body hudling againsT his knee. Torcing him backwards. His hands groped behind him insTincTively. There was noThing There. He Tell heavily. Thrice The snake sTruck. And Thrice The dog ThrusT himseIT Torward To receive The blow. ,K ,k ,,, ,,, Somewhere in The deserTs oT MonTana There is a lonely ranch which houses a sTrange couple. One is a man who Trom a sudden shock is regaining his sighT. The oTher is an old dog who is ToTally blind. The resulT oT a snakebiTe received some Yew ago' PRISCILLA FLEISHER and DONALD MCKAYLE. 9BR ME A bouncing baby girl was I. Who hardly o ened her mouTh To cry, JusT saT in her liiigh chair and laughed all day. Playing wiTh her Toys in The cuTesT way. AT The age of one. I was ouT oT my crib. Walked To my high chair and puT on my bib. Yelled Tor my dinner, making so much noise ThaT moTher said she'd raTher have boys. The years passed by and I sTarTed school Now I realize was 'I a Tool I biT The Teacher and ran away. BuT somehow my moTher goT me To sTay. Now I'm grown up and in my Teens. Learning abouT liTe and whaT school means. SomeTimes l'm happy and someTimes l'm wild. And someTirnes wish I were sTiIl a child. FRANCES BEREN BACK. 9A I ,DREAMS Nine o'clock. The Time I dread. For ThaT is when I go To bed. Up Trom my seaT. across The Tloor. Up The sTeps. and Through The door. OTT go The day cloThes. and on go The nighT. Then on wiTh The covers. and oTI7 wiTh The lighT I sTay awake a minuTe or so, y Then inTo Therland oT slumber. I go. I dream oT people, places. and Things. OT rich men. poor men. knighTs and kings. l dream oT Things Trom books ThaT I've read. OT men and women. long since dead. I dream and I dream all Through The nighT. 'Till along comes The morning, and wiTh iT. The lighT Then oTT go my dreams. righT ouT oT my head. To resT 'Till nexT nighT on The sheeT oT my bed GERALD HALPERN. DAVID MILLER -63- '

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Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. M rs. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. M r. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mrs. Mr. Mrs. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Cpl. Mrs. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. and Mrs. Charles Trink and Mrs. Nicholas Wrighf and Mrs. Louis Chedekel and Mrs. Vincenr Coleman and Mrs. Harold Eberrs and Mrs. Isadore Feiersiein , ancl Mrs. Narhan Glassman and Mrs. Louis Gold and Mrs. lsadore Kranzman and Mrs. Morris Miller and Mrs. Samuel Miller and Mrs. Oscar Naiurian and Mrs. Michael Norcia John Reszeiylo and Mrs. Max Siegel and Mrs. Abraham Slarin and Mrs. Samuel Spiess and Mrs. George Toplirslcy 9B3 and Mrs. A. Nisi and Mrs. L. Forle and Mrs. V. A. Tomanelli and Mrs. S. Guzzo and Mrs. L. Sparaco and Mrs. A. Avirable and Mrs. D. Williams and Mrs. A. Spagnesi and Mrs. Pal'sy.Zaccardo ancl Mrs. J. Schinelli and Mrs. Charles Savarese and Mrs. George Francaviglia and Mrs. John Pinro and Mrs. P. De Sisio and Mrs. Fiorenie Venlurino and Mrs. Ohler and Mrs. Daniel J. Bonacci and Mrs. D. Lapadula and Mrs. J. Di Biase and Mrs. Angelo Golino and Mrs. J. Klein and Mrs. F. Margioifa and Mrs. Felix Sanliago and Mrs. J. Marecak and Mrs. L. Di Sanza and Mrs. V. Soilosanli and Mrs. A. Gismondi Lacalamiia and Mrs. S. Cillis A. Palumbo and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. Anna Ca and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. and Mrs. J. Formale L. Camrnarara Dan- Zaccarclo Jerry Zaccardo 984 V. Aversano A. Bellingreri C. Berroni F. Branca Oiio Brummer miolo A. Caralano F. De Cusaris Rocco De Ninno Joseph De Palo Nick Del Piano Joseph Di Giorgio L. Fala Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mrs Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mrs. M r. Mr. Mr. Mrs Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. M r. Mrs. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mrs. Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. and Mrs. T. Franzese Felini and Mrs. B. Giordano and Mrs. O. Golaro and Mrs. Siephen lovino and Mrs. Harold Jackson and Mrs. James Marrone and Mrs. Louis Misilmeri and Mrs. S. Misili and Mrs. Peler Morelli and Mrs. Paisy Onofrio and Mrs. L. Palazzo and Mrs. Carmelo Paiulo and Mrs. J. Peloso and Mrs. P. Peirocelli and Mrs. Mario Piergiovanm and Mrs. B. Profela and Mrs. Anfhony Pulcino and Mrs. S. Ragnone B. Ruligliano and Mrs. lsidore Salerno and Mrs. M. Salvarorelli Anna Salvalore and Mrs. C. Scherquisl and Mrs. Louis Venfura 985 and Mrs. Nogueira and Mrs. T. Lavelle and Mrs. E. Zaqaria and Mrs. J. Renzulli Anna Tanrillo and Mrs. J. P. Finnigan and Mrs. F. Ninivaggi and Mrs. Paul Laos N. Lusuriello and Mrs. J. Adler and Mrs. C. Sprovieri and Mrs. A. Orfa and Mrs. Fred Schuliz and Mrs. F. Perroiia and Mrs. F. Greco and Mrs. Edward Calalerese and Mrs. Jacl: Cohose and Mrs. J. Tome and Mrs. l. Klein S. Rosica and Mrs. Picucci and Mrs. E. Rescigno and Mrs. R. Kaluia and Mrs. Napolirano and Mrs. A. Lande 986 and Mrs. Beniamin Goldberg and Mrs. Carl Bogdan and Mrs. Ben Fleishman and Mrs. B. Schwarlz and Mrs. F. Cedrano 9B7 and Mrs. Alberr Cilenio and Mrs. Peier Famelio and Mrs. Anihony Marone Louise Nicholson and Mrs. Oiro Preiss and Mrs. Nicholas Tingo and Mrs. John Walsh and Mrs. William Tuille

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EXCERPTS FROM MY AUTGBIOGRAPHY lVoI. VII, ParTiIIl My eyelids opened in evenTfuI Triumph and BerT M. Wesfman received his Tirsf glimpses oT This wondrous world. My beloved parenTs looked aT me sarcas- Tically and Turned Their eyes in reverenT silence. Dad. dear arTisTic Dad, glanced aTbme and Then The hospiTaI wall, Then uTTered a curse. WhaT an awful decorafing IO . Days, monThs, years passed and I passed from one sTage To anoTher. ' Now aT The age of SM I began my schoIasTic career and my Teachers loved me so much ThaT I sTayed in each grade a couple oT Terms. iusT for The annual Halloween Parfy. Then Things goT boring. All I would do was pla marbles in The back of The room. And whaT Tunny marbles. Too. WhiTe ones, wiTl'i black doTs. From infancy I passed inTo childhood. Then having no oTher place To go, I venTured inTo boyhood. War broke ouT and I was in class 8AI, so l being a paTrioTic American. Tried To enlisT in The Army. Navy, Waves. CoasT Guard. buT I Tinally wound up ioining The Boy ScouTs. 9AI found me Toiling away af algebra. arT, composifion. English, elecTric wiring, French, and all The oTher subiecTs The person or persons who consTrucTed my program could conceive of. SUFFERING A man was pacing To and fro, ThaT was my worried Daddy. And Daddy ThoughT, The minuTes are slow. And how he wished for a laddie. A nurse came in. and said, IT's a girl. Poor daddy's head was in such a whirl, For whaT would he do wiTh The fooTbaIls and Toys, And The games he had boughT ThaT were only for boys? I-low he suffered! My life of mischief began aT one, An age wiThouT a care. I used To Think iT was such fun To pull ouT Mommy's hair. How she suffered! AT six years old I enTered school 'And There were Two Things ThaT perplexed me. One: Why There was a golden rule? Two: Was cal' or saT spelled c-a-T? I-low I suffered! When I was eighT my parenTs ThoughT IT I knew music T'would be nice, So for me a piano was boughT, I pracTiced on iT Thrice. How iT suffered! Did all my Teachers agree wiTh me? Well, mosT of Them did, yes indeed, BuT once I came home wiTh a conducT of C And Dad said A spanking, ThaT's whaT you need. , I-low I suffered! And' now ThaT l am in my Teens, I Think of my babyhood, And my Tamil ? They sTill have dreams. ThaT one of These days I'II be good. BuT. They sTill suffer! ANNETTE BERGMAN. 9AI - 64 BERT wEsTMAN, QA: A BALLAD Deep in his den was Romrnel The Fox, Sand all around his deserT box, Ne'er was There a fox as sly as he. Cozy and TighT in his VicTory. BuT on one brighT and beauTiTuI day. A blasT of The hunTing horn did sway Over The seas and To The land Of Rommel The Fox and his clever band. The dogs did bark and sTarT The chase, The hunTers did ride and sTarT The race, The horses of s+eel flew on Their way, And Rommel ran like a beasi aT bay. From EgypT To Libya he swiTTly flew. Propelled by The end of MonTgomery's shoe The dogs sTilI on Their paTh did Tly, AfTer The Fox, boTh wicked and sly. To Tunis and on pasT Sicily, The hunTers rode wiTh ioyful glee. Closing in on The clever Fox, I-IunTed ouT of his deserT box. Rommel panTing and ouT of breaTh, Facing across The barren heafh, Safely reached his desTin , Deep in The hearT of lTalIy. Buf s+iII The hunTing horn doTh sound. STilI he hears The iron hound. STill The hunTers are on The chase, Their leader racing seTs The pace. The hunT will go on ThroughouT all. Soon The Fox will quiver and Tall. I-Ie can'T escape, he can'T deTend, His evil doings broughi his end. DONALD McKYLE. 9BR