Pembroke Academy - Academian Yearbook (Pembroke, NH)

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. THE ACADEMIAN THE LAST LETTER Bettye Silks The girl who sat in the bright, sunny room was a lovely little thing. She had small perfect fea- tures, cool green eyes, and a smooth shining cap of black hair. She was writing a letter to Michael, her Michael. How she loved the souxd of that. In a few days she would see him again--gallant, tall, handsome Michael, the flyer. As she sat at the desk writing she would stop once in a while and think of the grand times that they had had together. How well she re- membered the first time she had ever seen Michael. Surprising as it was, she had hated him, for he had laughed at her. but as she had grown to know him better, she began to like him, and finally they had discovered they were in love. It wasn't long after that, that war was declared. Michael had never been one to stand for anything cruel and ruthless, and so he had enlisted in the Air Corps. At first she had thought that he should have waited, but as time went by she rea- lized that it was right, that it was his duty. She also remembered the first leave that Michael had. How could she forget for it was then that he had given her the diamond ring which she now so proudly wore. They had promised each other that if nothing happened, they would get married in Juneg and now, it was June and everything was so perfect. Michael was coming home on a two week leave, and they were to be married as soon as he arrived. The letter was almost finished, and she could hardly wait to mail it for this would be the last letter for awhile. Soon she would have Mi- chael himself, not just letters. Finally the letter was finished, and she sealed it put everything away, and went downstairs to tell her mother that she was going to the post office to mail the last letter to Michael. She opened the door and went out into the bright sunlight. The next day two small items ap- peared almost side by side in the local newspaper. HIT'RUN DRIVER KILLS LOCAL GIRL' ' June 6-- Marsha. Collins, 20, only child of Mr. and Mrs. James Collins was killed yeaterday by a hit and run driver. Marsha was well known around town and was engaged to be mar- ried to Lieutenant Michael Coom- bes. LOCAL FLYER KILLED IN CRASH A June 6-- Word was received today that Lieutenant Michael Coombes, 22, son of Mr. and M s. Charles Coombes was killed in a crash at Randolph Field. Coombes, just recently commis- sioned, was expected home on leave, at which time he was to be married to Miss Marsha Collins . SPRING By MyrafPalmer A The air is fragrant with the springg The sky is bright and clear The sun shines over everything, And summer seems so near.

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.4 ...And This was gleasantville ' Harriet Williamson ' Plodding slowly along the dusty highway, the wcrouched figure went. The dust, coated his mouth, tasted like dry, clinging chalk. As speedy motored cars whizzed by it camouflaged his clothing: it en- veloped him so much he looked almost like a moving cloud of dust. His head was bent low, he was so weary. Turning a well-forested bend in the road, he ferreted out a stout stick. It was what was needed to uphold and upholster old Moses. ...Moses was once as is everyone. He was born in Pleasantville, one of those places one might call a one- horse town. When he was old enough to walk he discovered a place he afterwards returned to again and a- gain, a place he revered. It was the little wooden chapel, erected as a neighbor to the stately, white Puritan church. Another spot he took great stock in was McLeevy's General Store. Mr. McLeevy had an- other motive for calling this son of a very active, wealthy customer WSugar plu .W This embarrassed Moses when he started wearing knic- kers. Then, too, there was the brick grammar achool, huddled like a scared rabbit amidst the towering evergreens. Moses did not have much time to spend there. When Moses was old enough, his folks sent him off to boarding school. Moses thought when school closes, I can go back and see every one in my old home town. But col- lege was to come before that, Moses' father wrote to him as college com- mencement approached. ---nAnd so, Moses, your mother and I have ar- ranged for you to become a partner in 's firm as soon as you finish college,' That's how it went. Some days when Moses came home from the office, he often longed to 4. .' -.,. .., , . find his wife waiting for himfin' Pleasantville, not in this huge me- tropolis. It became an obsession, an ,ambiticn. If only he could stroll down the maple-shaded main street and walk into the General Store. How homey it, would be to hear the tinkly bell on the door! Well, by jove, he, and his wife, and now his family would go for a visit to Pleasantville. Yes, the next vacation from the office. But next summer his wife became ill. When the vacation time came, Mrs. Moses could not go. She was too weak to be moved. Mbses was putting flowers on her new green mound the week they had planned to be in Pleasantville. From one city to another Moses wandered. He couldn't manage his office job, so he had 'bean' 'gra- ciously discharged.n There was only one thing Moses wanted to do, re- turn to Pleasantville. His white hair and slow speech wcu1dn't stop him from getting a job in Mr. Mc Lewy's store, though it did every- whereuelse, On Moses went like a slowing up, jerky locomotive. Here he was on the last lap to Pleasantville. As he staggered into the Main Street, he felt a change. The cars still whizzed by like zephre trains. They had never done that in Pleasantville. 'Could you tell me how to get to Mc Leevy's General Store, please sir?' nNever heard of that. There isn't any such place in Pleasant- vi1le.u These seemed to be the answers to all his inquiries as he crept thru the thriving city of P1easantville.' If they had looked closer, they would have seen tears making awkward paths down his withered, dusty face.

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TH5uA.Q.ADE..ML.A.N as as M E S S A G E S V I A A N G E L S Harriet Williamson nLet's have one more dance. Want to, Sal1y?n WYes, Tom, I'd love it.n It was midnight. Tom went out on duty at two every morning. Duty for Tom was ocean air patrol along the coast. He and Sally ordinarily left the ballroom sooner than this. But tonight they seemed to long to keep dancing. They had to hurry to catch the last subway to the sub- urbs at one. Instead of Tom driving over to the hangars alone, Sally decided she would take the car over and drive back, so she could be with Tom a longer time. At the air field, the wind started blowing up. There was a heavy fog to add to the million reasons why Tom didn't want to take the plane up tonight. But duty was 'job donen in Tom's outfit. As Sally watched him fixing the.plaae for tflight, she wondered why she hadn t thought of coming out with Tom before. It was so .heart- warming to watch his exact 'move- ments, his precise figuring. Tom was everything an aviator should be efficient, alert: and everything Sally wanted a humorous, fun-loving, lovable man. It was funny how Sally could still feel the tight clasp of Tom's strong arms as he had said the final good-bye. The wind from the propellars had blown his curly hair into a muddled mess, but Sally thought it was adorable. On that lonely patrol, Tom often wished he could dream a while about a certain girl he had just left. But when you're on patrol duty, there's no 'time-out,' even for dreaming. When Sally went into her cozy front-hall she didn't go right up to bed. She sat down and called the air field. It would make Tom feel good if he should find a mes- sage waiting for him when he landed. Tom thought, Ulf il con't think about Sally, I can send a message to her.' So he gave out the short, three-lettered message Sally loved to hear soggmuch. ..., ,.Thelsradioman lockedfrattier dumb at it, but quicle ly sent it out over his set. Sally's maid never reached Sally with Tom's message. There was nothing to be seen of Sa1ly's love- ly home, or Sally. There was an air raid over London last night. Sally's message never greeted Tom when he came in that night. Tom's plane had been well-sighted. There had been good marksmanship, perhaps a medal for one of those Jerry pilots. There was a raid on the coastal patrol around London lest night. 1-11-1-n: Silver by Betty Scene Morency Silver sky shovs.silver stars, They shine on silver 'bI'66S . And through the trees sweet breezes blow From off the silver seas. Silver streams of silver light, 'Lumine the garden walk: Ghostly sounds aroud us fall Like shimmering silver talk.