Pickering College - Voyageur Yearbook (Newmarket, Ontario Canada)

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reflections on the death of .Stalin -DoN MACMILLAN Hi-:Ri-1 Ann MANY MEN wrio w11,L say that we are approaching an age in which we should be practical in our thinking and base our lives and actions on pure facts. To-day, however, more than ever before, we should also be attempt- ing to develop a new and stronger faith and hope in mankind. XVe must to a certain extent abandon the scepticism and uncertainty that impregnate our thought. This necessity is obvious in our present associations with the Russian powers. After a long and tedious cold war and a much more cruel hot war in Korea, a new Communist government leader has taken his position. At first people feared that he would be more aggressive than even his predecessor. But beneath this fear, many saw a chance for a new attitude, that of peace. Then we saw a new Russian policy which sent hope soaring in the hearts of millions. Russia was again anxious to bargain for peace and was willing to make settle- ments that before she had refused, one of them in connection with the prisoner exchange problem. There was every reason in the world for hope. At this time of writing, however, there is increasing scepticism and uneasi- ness because Russia desires some conditions which are unfavorable to us. People are once again looking for the skunk under the porch, and, unable to find one, are looking harder and harder. almost hoping to justify their suspicions. This is the attitude we must abandon because without faith, hope, and trust in one another, there can be no peace. There can be no democracy. There can only be toil and more bloodshed brought on by eternal fear of our neigh- hours. our partners, and possibly even of ourselves. DACHAU -HERB Cook Ugly Clouds whipped across the sky The drizzle, and misery This would never help them The chosen people Not chosen for this delirious death A sacrifice To a single man The odour of burned flesh arose Past the grey towers Ugly In the sky This was Daehau. Twenly-four

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He was perhaps thirty years of age, going bald, and wearing a heavy set of horn-rimmed glasses. Dressed in a dark blue suit, he held a Latin book in his long thin fingers. I am something of a. problem child, and that was one of the reasons I attended private school. My parents couldn't handle me in the way that thev felt they should. I had never gotten along with my teachers, and I had a suspicious feeling that the man next to me was a teacher. I prepared myself for a boring journey. Picking up the magazine in my lap, I looked at the buxom girl in the Bikini bathing-suit on the cover. For the next fifteen minutes I paged through the magazine, absorbed in what I thought to be true feminine beauty. I saw the man next to me look at the magazine, and then reach over and take a piece of paper from the brief-case at his side. Thinking that he had been utterly disgusted by the type of literature I read, I tilted the book slightly toward him so as to give him a better view, with the hope of irritating him. But he took out a pen and began to write what appeared to be a letter, using the Latin book as a desk. Closing the magazine, I leaned back in my seat and stared about me. Finally I looked at the paper on which the man next to me was writing. Inquisitively I started reading the letter, feeling sure that he was unaware that I was doing SO. The letter expressed a philosophy of life in a very simple but meaningful manner. The fact that difficult ideas were being expressed so simply prompted me on to reading the letter until he finished it. For the rest of the trip, I could do little else but think about the letter. I knew somehow that those ideas were going to have a positive effect on my future. XVhen the train finally reached my destination, I reached for my bag in thc rack above as if in a dream. Descending to the platform I realized that my companion had followed me out. I looked back at him for the last time, and wondered to whom he was sending that letter. My question was answered for me. Unaware that I was looking at him, he reached into his pocket, drew out a piece of paper, and slowly tore it into little pieces which floated quietly to t.he ground. Now I knew to whom the letter had been addressed, and I thanked him for it, in my heart. I knew that he had been the best teacher I would ever have. Twenty-three

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eti ities the glee club 1953 HE rRixo1'1'1oNs or 'ri-ir: time f,'Iil'Ii go hack twenty-one years. Twenty-one operas require a lot of rehearsing, a lot of working, a lot of planning. From the first Trial By Jury in 1933, we resolved to reproduce the works of Gilbert and Sullivan as faithfully and as perfectly as the limitations of our resourees would permit. The years have shown how we learned to overcome the handicaps of at small stage, and to make capital out of the enthusiasm of youth and the wealth of information that is available for those who wish to study it. Pirates of Pcn,':r1nce This year we produced our twenty-first opera and our fourth Pirates of Penzance . The show was notable for a number of reasons, among them being the quality of the performance and the industry and skill of the new director, XVard Cornell, It is one thing' to have detailed information about production available. it is another thing' to make effective use of this information on the stage. Corky came tln-ough magnificently, Hf course, he is an old hand at Gilbert and Sullivan. But he deserves special credit for making the jump from actor to actor-director, and for maintaining a standard of performance that we believe belongs particularly to Pickering. Twen ty-five