Paris High School - Arena Yearbook (Paris, IL)

Page 11 text:

The inevitable drone of the class bell, t! e nemesis of high school life, still summons us from and to toil. Bells are rung automatically this year, Joe. Sometimes the system works; sometimes it doesn't. First its notes were shrill, metallic, and much too loud, and then its voice sank to a mere rattle, inaudible in some parts of the building. Now it sounds like a telephone, but we can Ixar it at least. Most of us take it as a joke. Funny thing, tlx American sense of humor. As long as tlx sc wol exists, the line in front of tlx prin- cipal's office will remain. Nothing could change this. Every morning tlx column forms, waits nervously to see the prin- cipal and to receive a permit to enter class. Expressions are varied upon the waiting countenances. Some are impatient, seeming to consider this a formality that could be eliminated. Others are plainly worried; will lx believe t xir excuse—be it truth or prevarication? A few are quiet, assured, calm. Per Imps this air has been acquired through time and experi- ence. Each day it is like this. You must have stood in line, too; remember? It's all tlx same, Joe: tlx girls gat xr in the halls; tlx boys in tlx locker room. Remember tlx hiss and muffled roar of tlx boiler on a cold morning and tlx sulphuric stench of wet aslxs when tlx furnace is cleaned. Still tlxre are wadded lunch papers on tlx assembly desks after noon hour while tlx blackboards proclaim the meeting of various clubs and committees. Tlx library is filled with studious people, and t!x se optimistic souls w jo come in merely to loiter in !x)pes of escaping tlx threat of work. You haven't forgotten t xtse meetings in tlx auditorium, have you, with tlx tumultuous student body strangely thoughtful as they stand in singing tlx hallowed refrain of Tlx Orange and tlx Black. Tlx old sclxrol is very much the same now, Joe, as when you were here.

Page 10 text:

It's been over a year now since you left old P. .S. She hasn't changed much, really. Of course, the faculty has shifted, and war conditions have affected many subjects. T jcre is also another crop of freshmen and a few new stu- dents, but all in all, sl e is unchangeable. I’m a senior this year, foe. It gives you a sense of pride, and it makes you humble: pride in four years of earnest endeavor and humility in your own insignificance in comparison with tlx sc fool and all six means. Humility on tlx first day when you stroll foldIy up tlx front walk and climb tlx stone steps leading to Ixr portals. Suddenly you look up tlx length of tlx stately pillars that support Ixr roof, and you feel very small and unworthy. Surely you must I fair felt like this, too. Remember tlx first week and tlx difficulties in tlx assembly with bewil- dered freshmen and noisy underclassmen. Somehow a senior feels aloof; yet lx must be exceedingly careful not to do some childish thing and consequently sacrifice his new dig- nity. Think of tlx stairs during the four minute periods as chattering groups move from room to room. Boys and girls talk over lessons, tonight's date, or make amusing, if undig- nified, comments about some teaclxr. Still the eerie whine and staccato thud of the slxtp machinery pervade tlx t foughts of even tlx most intent student in the rooms above. Groups cluster about tlx bulletin board in tlx hall scanning its surface, reading its notices, discussing possibilities for jobs or parts in a play. During the ninth four you walk through tlx upper falls. The sound of typewriter keys drifts to your ears; somew xre a locker door bangs; a girl laughs youth- fully. Of course, you can't forget t xse things!

Page 12 text:

 THE YEAR BRINGS Get on the band wagon.” Our assembly line—milk for young Americans. Uncle Bill” ponders and puffs. Scientific seniors, perhaps future Einsteins— Dahlgrcn, Norman, I;oley, and Idleman. You see, Joe, I be changes don't show up on the surface where one can see them from tlx out- side, hut there arc many, very many. For example, the faculty has dunged considerably. Mr. Shake is teaching in the place of Mr. Wend holt—defense work. Trulock is gone—Air Corps. He's teach- ing t ye fledgling navigators. Miss Balmer took his place; now she has left—matrimony. Afr. Hoke, at last, us the math classes which lud begun to consider t Item selves the lost tribes of Paris High. This year Coach Deacon Swecley is teaching us seniors American history. It is his job to s jow us as vividly as possible t e back- ground of America—the reasons we uve to fight. During the first semester World History classes were taught by another newcomer, Mr. Mills. Uncle Sam liked him as well as we did, so he left in December for Miami, a commission, and the air corps. Mr. Gillum is gone, too, resigned after many years of service. Bill, as he was affectionately called, was an integral part of P.H.S. for years. You'd often see him sitting in the boiler room smoking his pipe in contemplation. It’s strange not to find him down t jere. Goffie is still custodian in more ways than one. W ut would we ever do without his understanding interest? We are far from the sea here in Paris, Joe, but it seems that everyone in town us a bit of