Red Bank High School - Log Yearbook (Red Bank, NJ)

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8 THE HOUND TABLE began to manipulate the key. The buzzer told him that the transmitter was working. He listened for a call. He heard nothing. He listened again and again and then he heard the feeble dots and dashes of a call, S.O.S.— S.O.S., again and again, he heard the feeble call. He asked, “Where are 7 » They answered, “One hundred and forty-five degrees southwest of Marine Island, drifting a little to the westward. May hit rocks or sand-bar along coast. Ben gave the message to one of the Captain’s assistants and then sent back the answer, “Coming at full speed.” Just then, something cracked. A wire band broken somewhere. He grabbed a piece of wire, a pair of pliers, then started for the deck. The cutter lurched back and forth. The waves slapped against the side of the boat. Ben half walked, half fell up- stairs. He finally reached deck. A huge wave struck the cutter with such force that it nearly turned over. The sudden lurch sent Ben headlong across the deck. He tripped over something and fell. His head hit the iron railing along the deck. A pain shot through his head; then all became unknown to him. A huge wave washed over the deck and drenched him, but at the same time the cold water revived him. He managed to get up and make his way to the left side of the cabin. Here, as he thought he would, he found the trouble. The lead-in wire was held by an insulator, and the wire, swinging back and forth, had finally twisted in two. He quickly fixed the break with a piece of wire and then started back to the cabin. The ship was still calling for help. He again sent the answer, “Coming at full speed.” At this time one of the sailors stepped in and told Ben that they were within a few feet of the ship. Ben went on deck with the sailor. The men were busy handling ropes and chains. The swaying of the ship, added to the hard work of lifting the chains, caused the men to stop for a rest every minute or so. But how could they rescue the ship? It was impossible to get close to the ship in distress, as the ocean was too rough. No life-boat could withstand such choppy waters. So how could they rescue the few people on it? “Tow her in,” Ben suggested. “If she’ll stand it. I’m game,” re- plied the Captain. The men set to work at once and after many hard attempts, succeeded in getting a tow-line to the ship. The strong little cutter started off. She advanced slowly but surely. Before long the lights of the station came into view. The people were treated at the station; some, for wounds received by being thrown against the sides of the cabin. Everybody was given some- thing to eat and remained at the sta- tion until after the storm, when another ship came for them. Ben was not forgotten. They all contributed toward a small gold medal for his services. Here my story ends, for there are no words, which can describe the feelings and greetings that mother and father had for their son, who had returned safe and sound, through the storm. Harold Smock. -------------------o------- TRIALS OF SECURING AN EDUCATION We have all encountered difficulties in going to and returning from school. Of all the difficulties coming to me in attending various places of learning

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THE ROUND TABLE 7 saying, “I’m sorry I’ve worried you so much and I hope you’ll forgive me!’’ On the many evenings that followed Will certainly had no pocketbooks to return to Miss Camille De Couer; his visits, however, became alarmingly fre- quent. Acquaintance ripened into deeper feeling, and Will soon learned that Camille’s choice regarding matri- mony was strangely restricted by an uncle, living in Paris, who demanded that his niece should marry the Due de Berteuil. This information, instead of moderating Will’s ardor, seemed only to make it more intense. Then one evening, Will popped the question, “But,” Camille faintly re- monstrated, “my uncle will prevent our -------------Will’s eyes twinkled roguishly. “Cam,’’ he whispered, “where there’s a Will, there’s a way.” And Camille found that way! Marie Alene Neis, ’27. -------o------- SECOND PRIZE TO THE RESCUE! “Ben” Williams, like most boys, was interested in radio. For this reason his father had bought a three-tube set to satisfy Ben’s longing. There was something else, though, that contribut- ed to Ben’s unusual interest. The Coast Guard Station, which was sit- uated near his home, had a cutter equipped with a transmitter, for use in rescue work. Ben’s greatest desire was to get a chance at that instrument. He had been on board the cutter, Ad- miral Dewey, but he had never been given a chance to work the trans- mitter. A few days later word came that the operator had been taken seriously sick. This left the Coast Guard without a telegraph operator. Ben was hoping that he might be called upon, but he hoped in vain, for Captain Jacobson didn’t say a word to Ben, who knew a great deal about radio. Captain Jacobson had often said that Ben would make a great radio engineer, but why wasn’t he given a chance to use some of his knowledge at the trans- mitter? Cape Kingston was about the stormiest cape along the coast, but now it was as quiet as could be, so there was no need of any rescue boats just now. Ben gave up in despair and jumping down from his seat on a pile of lumber, started home. He noticed that the wind was becoming stronger and that the sky was becoming darker, but he paid little attention to the dark- ness, as it was near night fall. When he reached home the wind had increased in intensity, and rain was falling. He had no more than finished supper, when a knock sounded at the door. It was Captain Jacobson. Ben could tell by the expression of his face, that something was the matter. “Passenger ship in distress,” he in- formed them, “We need Ben for tele- graph operator.” The time had come! He could work at the transmitter! He ran for his coat and hat and left with Captain Jacobson for the Coast Guard Station. They reached there just in time, for as they stepped aboard the “Admiral Dewey,” the storm broke. The lightn- ing flashed through the sky like ton- gues of fire. The thunder rumbled and the waves tossed the cutter about like a chip. Ben went to the transmitter soon and Captain Jacobson to his post of duty. A chug-chug told Ben that they were on their way. Before long they were upon the raging ocean. Ben turned on the apparatus and

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TIEE ROUND TABLE 9 the first was the most difficult. For three long and tedious, yet won- derful and thrilling years I travelled the distance of five miles necessary to be traversed, by foot, on horseback, or by carriage. These five miles were not in the dense African jungles nor in the great wild west but just in some of our “honest-to-goodness-country.” In summer the roads were uncom- fortable to pass over because of the clouds of dust, and in the winter, they were impossible to pass over because of gentle impressions, known as ruts. One cold winter morning we started out with hearts as full of courage, as the roads were full of large drifts of snow. We bundled into a carriage for the usual ride. After the first half mile the horse got “warmed-up’ for he dashed along at a delightful rate of speed. I gazed at the scenery to the right of us and, like a laborer who works when the boss isn’t looking, the horse stopped. He wasn’t where he was supposed to be, but down—down —nearly out of sight in a beautiful blanket of snow. We dug him out and returned home. We started out again this time in our yellow cart, a con- traption with but two wheels and a single seat. Oh, yes! My mother would drive and I, the smallest, would occupy the middle of the seat, while my sister would sit on the other side of me. We passed the dangerous points and came within a reasonable distance of the school building. “Almost there,’ I volunteered. Just then one wheel went down into a small hole, the cart tipped, precipitating my sister into a snowbank. We gazed in astonishment! Before the cart could right itself the other wheel sank into another hole, so that the cart tipped the other way, and off went my mother taking reins with her, but leaving me, like the monkey I was generally called, perched on the seat alone. Stay there? Not me. I jumped out. The horse stopped, apparently of his own accord. After we had pulled our- selves together, we scrambled back into the cart and finished our journey. Those five years we experienced— rain and hailstorms, runaways, and everything that could happen to two unfortunate yet fortunate children, for at least we both survived. It is the good who die young. Then we moved to within a “stone’s- throw’’ of the school. This fact alone could have caused us to buy a house in town. We managed to make the nine o’clock here, for five years, with- out an over amount of exertion; but all good things must come to a close, for we became or thought we became too advanced for what the school of- fered, consequently we changed schools. We now must go one and a half- miles to school. But—only four years more to go, and, to leave home at eight-thirty, but—that isn’t so bad after all! Fear made us do our work. My sister made her grade but I, always on the tail-end, am still going on. “Don’t forget that school begins its session at fifteen minutes to nine.” That warning slowly, and, after much difficulty, found its way through the two small passages—the only entrance —into the great amount of brain space beyond. It waited, became fil- tered, and finally understood. Fifteen minutes earlier! Not very much but yet a whole lot. I guess I can do it. It’s not so very bad, for, after all the first hundred years are the hardest. G. G., ’26.