North Scott High School - Silver Shield Yearbook (Eldridge, IA)

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I V I Smit 1, n .ij it if if l ff A iff art ll f?,l li iff, iii ri PAIGE POWER l SPRING As l peer through a window in the first months of spring, our yard is like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon. The last of the white, merciless snow creeps back into hiding and leaves the brown, crisp ground to once again be overcome by fresh, new, green grass. The once bare and lifeless trees budd and green. The first robin flutters from tree to tree carrying its crisp melody, sweetly ridding the air of its cold si- lence. The lavender lllacs decorate the bushes with their delicate petals and smooth leaves. As I once again see the refreshed beauty of spring and inhale the fresh clean air, I get a feeling of clear purity and newness of life. l get a feeling of spring. MARI DRENTER NX 55 ,A Qt ,, Xml K ft 4 iw. l l X W. .V , W, ' v' 1 Fw' X, ' ,A f W 1.1 T ri, 4 tcm, 5. f .,. Pmciu.A MARTIN If g lftjnf I K qi fix, I ,A X' 1' f ' XM' illtlitfll rf' . THERE WAS A KNOCK AT THE DOOR The subdued sun rose reluctantly into the blackened sky. lt seemed to the man that it was mourning the de- struction of humanity. As the sun rose even higher, the man could see the tortured earth upon which he stood. He fell to his knees and wept bitterly. Everything he had ever cared for was gone. It was like a living Hell. He had no family. He had never cared for mankind, the only species of all the creatures of the world to kill others of his own blood, and cursed the csy he was born. He had gone to live in a cave as soon as he was old enough to leave home. He wanted to be far away from this barbaric race. He fell in love with the cave as soon as he set eyes on it. lt was a curious cave, and had totally defied his imagination. Now that was gone, too. World War Ill was a nightmare. Even though it was three years done, it still haunted him. The United States was not ready for the attack. While the U.S. was still building up their defenses, a New Roman Empire was founded. Rus- sia was their leader. They felt the time was ripe, and immediately declared war upon the United States. lt only lasted a few days. By then everyone was dead or dying. All buildings were leveled. Somehow, he had miraculous- ly survived, but the radioactivity had marred his skin. lt had impaired his vision as well as his speech, and he could only move very slowly. lt was too quiet. The silence preyed upon his tortured mind. He vividly re- called screaming, and the searing heat: heat hot enough to peel the flesh right off the bone. The man shook his head to dispel the memories, and slowly walked to his shelter. It consisted of pieces of charred wood stacked tightly against each other, with a piece of mutilated metal for the roof. lt was only large to allow him to lie down, and its chief purpose was to shield him from the elements. He had found a doorknob buried in the sand, and had fashioned a kind of door. lt was crude, but very well done, considering what he had to work with. The man fell into a trance of sorts, and listened to the wind howl for a good half an hour. Soon a vision pre- sented itself before him. He stared at it, aghast. His eyes widened with horror. lt was a mutant form the war, stripped of its flesh. The last man on earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock at the door. It was subtle, but it was enough to disturb the silence. The man slowly rose from his seat, and limped to the door. He had a last hope. Could it be another human? He wondered. He threw open the door, only to find no one there. But there was something out there. He could hear singing. It seemed to be coming out of the very sea itself. He closed his eyes slowly and al- lowed the music to lead him. He dreamed of a world where there was no sickness, no hate. Only love and health. The song led him on. He felt the cool water lap at his ankles, and now his knees. He found what he was look- ing for. His perfect, blissful world was a reality. KRIS MEREDITH 11 f' J-V onasrrmt wonks 1

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munication is SO important. According to Tom Leavell, parents and students do a good job of commu- nicating until about third grade. When they have reached the junior high level, he says, the students have a tendency to get rebellious. When they reach high school, it is generally assumed that they are pretty much on their own. One reason that kids don't tell par- ents completely what they do in high school, according to Mrs. Cummins, is because they are afraid that parents would make too much out of it. Leavell agrees, saying that when kids tell parents, the parents' general reaction is Well, you shouldn't goof 0 f. THE SA School social worker Dave Gould ex- plains that the communication gap works both waysg parents don't know what the kids is like in school, the school doesn't know about the kids' home life. Gould gives the example of a girl whose father was very violent. When the girl was at school, she was very docile. Consequently, when she broke down at school, no one understood why. The only person that knows both roles of the student is that student, Gould reminds. lf the student has two roles, are ei- ther of them the real person? In the mind of Mr. Agosta, the real person is a combination of both rolesg each role is one side for the person's character. The real person is the one that can go from one role to another with a degree of comfort. Dave Gould has a slightly different idea about that, though. ln his theory, the individual can have a third role that may be the dominant role. According to Gould, that third role could be what you feel about yourself. Is this Moeller the real Shelia in band? 4? 1 ls this th I Sh I' Moeller t h 5 I 6 F93 9 I8 8 OITIG studying? 2 ? wHo AM ' -J

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lleftli Scott Student Home lee SPONSORED BY SQQTT QQMIMUNITY SQHQQLS MU, THE GREATQR DAVEWFQRT BQALRQ QF REALTURS gy 55 . Maw-ww. f All THE FLOOD OF '06 There aren't many left that can remember the big flood of '06, and among those few that can remember it and will talk about it is Uvv Jjones. As a matter of fact, Uvv fpronounced of j loves to talk about it, you can't stop him once you get him started on the subject. One time I stopped to chat with ol' Uvv and happened to mention something about the big flood and Uvv was off and running. I had heard the story about three hundred times before, but this time I was in luckg I was returning home from the supermarket at the time and had a sack full of rutabagas with me. About the only thing Uvv loved more than telling his story about the big flood was a rutaba- ga. I waited until ol' Uvv was about half way through the story and then whipped out a ruta- baga. A veil of silence fell over Uvv, a strange smile appeared on his face and like a nesting hen pounching on a June Bug, he grabbed the ruta- baga and started to consume it, which gave me enough time to make my get-away. The first time that I heard the story was quite an experience. l was walking down 3rd Street when I heard a voice call out. Hey, Sonny! I didn't pay any attention and just kept walking, again, Hey, Sonny! , I just kept walking, Hey stupid!! You Deef??'? I turned around just as ol' Uvv grabbed me by the arm and said, l'm going to tell yaastory, so just shut up and listen. lwas going to ingore the old man, but the shotgun in his hand convinced me I should sit down and listen to his story. Uvv sat down under a big elm tree and motioned me to sit, which I did immedi- ately! The old man spat the wad of chewing tobacco out of his mouth, scratched his gray whiskers and began the story. It was a warm day in late April back in 1906 when the whole thing started. Seems there were four big tow boats and each one of them was pushing at least fifteen barges. They were all carrying kerosene and all four of them was trying to make it to the lock and dam first, so it was about 900 people and the total sum of the popu- lation was lined up on the river bank to see that race. Just think of it!! 6,000,000 gallons of kero- sene reaching for that lock. As I recollect, it was the John Flamm that reached the lock first, full boor, boy what a sight! Things would have worked out all right if it hadn't been for the Gale Swift ramming into the John Flamml That started it, all right! I had closed one eye while the old man was telling the story and he promptly hit me on the foot with his shotgun: that got my attention. Before ya knew what was happening the oth- er two tow boats were all tangled up in the mess, all four of them piled up right at the gate to the lock. Then all heck broke loose, the lock gate broke and all sixty of these barges began to turn and twist and roll. They all broke loose at the same time and all the kerosene came spilling out all over the Mississippi. It was a kerosene flood! Millions of gallons of kerosene came gushing down the river. Before we knew it we were all up to our hip pockets in kerosene, boy what a mess! Then it happened, the kerosene must have dri- ven the carp crazy, they just went mad, they started attacking the people that were watching the race, and ya know, a carp don't have any teeth, so what they did is latch onto your legs with their lips. You should have seen it, killer carp running rampid, putting hickies on everyone's legs! Poor Sally Spivett, she got it the worst, Sally was the Button I-lole Grinders daughter ya know, pretty little gal she was, anyway, one of those carp, must have weighed sixty pounds or more got a hold of her kneecap .,.. poor girl never was the same after that happened. Then the worst possible thing that could happen did. Crazy ol' Andy Stotter walked down to the river to see what all the excitement was about, took out a cigar and pulled out his matches . .. I looked over at ol' Uvv and he was fast asleep with a big smile on his face, I tried to wake him so I could hear the end of the story, but to no use. Uvv was fast asleep somewhere back in '06. Funny thing, Uvv has started that story about three hundred times and when he gets to the part about the matches he just falls asleep with a big smile on his face. Someday I'm going to make him finish that story, or I'll just quit giving him rutabagas. DEAN RICKERTSEN WE BUILT A HOUSE While some might not consider building a house very original, it is a monumental task, and a real ac- complishment when completed. lt is an example to the community of the many things made by North Scott Lancers. Front Flow: Joe Loussaert, Andy Harry, Brian Seghers, Mike Browne, and Browne, and Tim Carter. Standing: Brent Pumphrey, Tom Nagle, Bill Monaghan, Chris Ewoldt, Matt Fleming, Dave Mad- den, Ed Drummond, Brian Hill and in- structor Dennis Olson. INTERLUDE A photographic study of Robb Medd and his trumpet by AI Gol- dis. ORIGINAL WORKS