North Bay Collegiate Institute and Vocational School - Northland Echo Yearbook (North Bay, Ontario Canada)

Page 27 text:

THE NORTHLAND ECHO 19 green-horn must experience. The strange sound of a foreign language which I did not understand, the foolish feeling of not understanding and the awful feeling of not being understood- all took their turn in forming me into a Canadian. Although all those around me thought very highly of themselves and contrasted their great intellect with my utter stu- pidity, still, I believed I could tell those people something about which they knew very little-Poland. I could not help noticing the surprised comments that were made about our modern clothes, and I soon understood the oft-repeated questions of my curious Canadian friends, such as: Did you wear such clothes in Poland? Did you come in a big ship and were you sea-sick? Say 'hello' in Polish, or Tell me all about Poland. At first the English language was a puzzle to me. How can they understand each other? I thought, and to spite our Canadian friends we talked Polish con- tinually, so that they, in their turn would not understand. But presently, this fast jabbering, these groans and squeals took the shape of words which at last had a meaning. In the street I was utterly lost amid the great hubbub of traffic. This rushing ot' cars and people was absolutely unfa- miliar to me. and I never seemed to get my turn to cross the street-safely. In school understanding smiles were exchanged between the teachers and me, which at first amounted to nothing more. Later I found those teachers to be kind, sympathetic friends who helped me out of many difficulties, and took pride in my progress. At the dinner table countless adven- tures were related and as our knowledge of English increased, English words were mixed in with the Polish and the Jewish. Although my great love for Poland will never cease, part of my love now is reserved for my adopted country- Canada. THESE LONG-SHORE MEN tsenior Prize Essayj Bill Moyer, V Collegiate About twenty-five miles south of Hali- fax, Nova Scotia, lies the small village of Foxe's Point. This is the home of a group of Atlantic fishermen who fittingly call themselves Long-Shore men. I had the good fortune to spend a whole day among these men during the height of the mack- crel season, and it is a day that I Shall always cherish. Foxe's Point is strategically Situated in a small bay on one of many penin- sulas. Here I learned how independent the fishermen of Nova Scotia are. I was astonished to see their homes and their crude clothing, and to learn of the small pittance on which they live. Their homes are squat, all-frame structures, built by themselves and housing no more than five people. Every last one was sur- rounded by a crudely fashioned picket fence, usually whitewashed. There were about seventy-five such homes housing, in all, some five hundred people. Their homespun clothing made up of a giant black sweater, a pair of coarsely patched pants, and a pair of heavy, cork-soled boots invariably failed to fit them. Each family, in spite of its poverty, had a dog, which accompanied them when they lifted their nets. A Long-Shore man's morning begins at five, and he is always at the dock by seven. We happened to get to Foxe'S Point just about this time, when the men were busied in mending yards of leader nets and in bagging large quantities of coarse salt. They were a very fI'iendly and genial group. who seemed to take an interest in us as soon as they learned that we were from Northern Ontario. I met a sixteen-years-old boy, jigging eels, as he called it. I was deeply im- pressed with their very ringing musical dialect. It is the dialect of the men from Sussex, according tu my mother. They politely asked us to accompany them while they raised their nets in the morn- ing. These nets are raised twice a day. once at four o'clock and also at eleven in the morning. We wandered over the village until the time came for the raising of the nets. At this time, as a bay wind was blowing, the sea was fairly choppy. About eight men took part in the net- raising, two to a boat. The boats were tied together and drawn out to the nets by a power dory. This power dory is equipped with a harpoon for spearing tuna. The nets lie about two hundred yards from shore, and even at this short distance the water is thirty fathoms deep. As the boats approach the net, they break off from the power dory and encircle the pond, A5 the men begin to haul in the net, the mack- erel come to the surface and in such numbers of them that the water is churned into foam. I shall never forget the sight of those thousands upon thous- ands of rbeautiful green, striped fish, thrashing, leaping, twisting and turning in an effort to escape the net. As the fish are crowded to the surface, the load- ing boatmen throw a large dip-net into the pond. This dip-net is about six feet in diameter and takes in about five hundred fish every cast. The dip-net is thrown out by a rope, and then hauled

Page 26 text:

18 THE NORTHLAND ECHO ARTICLES MR. CHAIRMAN. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN E. J. Pennock I have the privilege of voicing the thoughts and ideas of the graduates who have received their diplomas this evening. Tonight, we say farewell to our school. Most of us can recall some time during the past few years, if things were not going just right, when we might have been glad to have said good-bye to school: but tfmight. as we are faced with the actual experience. we look upon our lifc here in a much different light. Many things happened to us here. Most of them were pleasant-some were not, at the time, but now that they are memories we can appreciate them for what they were worth. Let's recall a few of them now. Do you rememlber the first day we came to school, proud as pea- cocks, because we were going to the High School? But do you remember how small and insignificant we felt when we sat here and saw the teachers of whom we had heard so much from the veterans of the Second Forms, sitting on the plat- form and waiting to lead us to the slaughter? None of us enjoyed school very much the first few days, but then someone said something funny in class and the teacher laughed! Yes, Sir! Laughed right out loud! Then we decided that they must be human after all, and that, even if they were school-teachers, they weren't bad at heart. And so our education went on. VVhile we were wondering why they had mixed up the alphabet with arithmetic to make a puzzle they called algebra, and why we had to write down what we thought Mac- beth would have done when we were satisfied with Shakespeare's version of it, our minds were being unconsciously moulded and trained in the right direction. In our mathematical and scien- tific courses we were taught to think- to reason things out, to observe, and to draw conclusions. From History and Literature we learned the difference lbetween right and wrong, what to admire and strive for in character, and what to detest and shun. Some of our most pleasant memories are of our association with the various organizations within the school. Our activities in these societies gave us an opportunity lo play and learn ut the same time-. Through sports we were taught to recognize and obey rules and constituted authority. and to learn that nothing can bc s u c c e ss ful without co-operation. Our Literary and Debating Societies gave us an opportunity to learn self-expression as well as to provide enter- tainment for the school as a whole. The School Orchestra and Camera Club pro- vided the means whereby those with the same hobby could get together and really achieve something worth while. These various school activities also gave us an opportunity to cultivate the friendship of our teachers. The companionship and good-fellowship we enjoyed with them after school is something we can cherish. You all know that lovable character, Mr. Chips. He was not one man, but a combination of many masters, with whom the author had come in contact during his school days. I believe, and I know the other graduates do also, that if the author had gone to this school, he could have drawn his material from here. No doubt, he would have had difficulty in deciding whether to name his product Miss Our Board, or Mi: Chips. thanks are due to the School and to Mr. Wallace, and his staff, for the many educational and recrea- tional opportunities we have enjoyed as pupils in this school. Do you remember that once or twice a year our principal would im-press upon us the ,fact that this school was not com- posed of brick and mortar, but of the pupils who attended it, and that the char- acter and reputation of the school was what we gave it? Let us remember, then, that as we go out into the world as young men and women, our lives will cast a reflection on this school. Let us make it a bright one. MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF CANADA Clara Schneebalg Four years ago, when a child of ten, I first saw Canada. I stood on the threshold of this large, bewildering new world, with great emotions stirring in my heart. I was sad at the departure from my closest friends and relatives who were now left thousands of miles away. I was happy over the safe arrival to this for- eign land. I was excited over the thought of the coming adventure. Although Canada in those first few weeks 1'ushed into my mind with full force and occu- pied most of my thoughts, Poland stayed timidly behind, like a beautiful back- ground to a colorful picture. At the beginning I felt the pangs cvery

Page 28 text:

20 THE NORTHLAND ECHO in and emptied. By the time the boat- load is filled, the men are standing in fish up to their knees. The whole pro- cess takes little more than half an hour and as soon as the loading is over, the net is lowered again. Mixed very spar- ingly with mackerel are a few haddock and sole. The men then return to thc shore where their real work begins, that of cleaning and packing their catch. In this art. for it is an art with them, young boys of seven and eight take part and these boys are as quick as the more experienced men. Noticeable around the dock were numerous loibster pots of wicker-work. Because the lobster fishing takes place during the winter, it is the hardest and cruellest job imaginable. The freezing wind blows the water over the boat and boatmen, covering them with ice. The fishermen never know whether they will be able to sell their fish or not, ibut keep netting them at all times, taking a chance on the marketls. The fisher- man's profit is almost negligible and we who are inland born cannot quite realize the enormous amount of work necessary for such a small income. These long-shore men are real workers and fine people. I shall never forget them. A VISIT TO THE ROOF GARDENS The first time I visited Toronto was two years ago, when I went to thc Union Station with my cousins to see a friend off for the West. While my older cousin waited to see her friend on the train, my younger cousins, Evelyn and Audrey, decided to take me across to the Royal York Hotel and try to get permission to see the Roof Gardens. They took me through five or six rooms in the station before we reached the tunnel. The tunnel was car- peted, lighted by electric lights on both sides and very stuffy and smoky. We ran part of the way to get out of it in a hurry. The rumbling of the cars over- head made the glass fronts of the adver- tisements along the sides of the tunnel tremble. As soon as we reached the hotel we stopped and thankfully took a deep breath of fresh air. We stood there for a few minutes just inside, deciding who should ask for per- mission. Audrey was the only one who had enough courage to do so. She crossed her fingers, walked boldly up to the elevator-boy, told him we were from North Bay rAudrey, had lived in Toronto all her life and never had been to North Bay and knew no onc there but meh and asked him if he would be allowed to take us up to the roof gardens. He asked the head man at the desk. The man answered, No, not now. The orchestra is just beginning its broadcast. But sir, they've come from away up north, the elevator-boy protested. How far north? asked the head man, amusedly. North Bay, sir. Oh, of course then, the head man said, looking astonished, If they've come so FAR, by all means take them up. Thank you, sir. With that, the elevator-boy led the way to one of the elevators. When all of us were in and the elevator was going up, the boy began to ask us about North Bay. He had played on the Trappers' hockey team the previous winter and he asked about some of the others on the team. Of course, I answered all his questions. He must have considered the others quite dumb or else just shy, because -they didn't answer anything about North Bay. Mean- while, I was watching the light that indicated what floor we were. We went up about eighteen floors, then to the roof gardens. The moment we stepped out of the clevator we stopped, dazzled. There were huge glass windows which separated us from the ballroom. Just inside, on a raiscd platform, was Mark Kenny's orchestra, every member of which wore a whitc suit coat and black trousers. The grand piano was also white. The singing star, Georgia Day, was standing near the microphone. She was very pretty, with blonde hair, blue eyes and dressed in a black evening gown which made a strik- ing contrast with the white of the men's suit coats and piano. From the micro- phone, hung a sign, On the Air. There were a few people dancing. When Georgia Day sang, we couldn't hear her above the orchestra. A trio sang too, but I didn't hear their names when the elevator boy told us who they were. He left us stand- ing there alone after about five minutes. We stayed a while longer, then went down, still in a daze. POPULAR SONGS Jean Waddingto-n Nowadays, songs are so numerous and of so many different styles that it is difficult to classify them, In general, the songs popular today may be put into four classes: Q13 common love songs: C29 slow ballads, 133 swing musicg C43 novelty songs. In the first class, that of the common, everyday love songs, lies most of the average popular songs of the day, In