Ricker Classical Institute - Aquilo Yearbook (Houlton, ME)

Page 25 text:

Remember Pearl Harbor The snow flakes silently floated down from above and made a fleecy coverlet under which the little town of Greenville lay. The fur trees looked as if they'd been frosted with sugar icing. The stately elms lifted their stiff arms to heaven making grotesque shadows on the snow. Smoke gently curled from the chimneys of the humble cottages, and yellow streams of light gleamed from the windows. The app- earance was truly that of a toy town, but it wasn't. Human beings lived inside the houses. They worked and played, laughed and cried, just as you and I do. Greenville, like every other town was working with what small resources it had for national defense. That night the wom- en of the church were holding a knitting bee for the Red Cross. The men were or- ganizing a Home Guard Unit and selling defense stamps and bonds. Slowly coming down Elm Street, trudged a small boy and his inky black, spaniel dog. The boy's name was Roger and his dog's was Night. Gee, Night, .it's gettin' colder n' the roads' awful full of snow. We'll have to get to the church though 'cause if we don't we'll be unpatriotic said Roger childfishly talking to his pet, and stammering over the big wo1'd. Night, his long silken ears nearly dragging on the ground, and his short stubby legs stumbling in the deep snow, gazed up at his playmate with somber brown yees and wagged his tail as a sign of agreement. To the six year old boy, thinly clad in old blue nickers and worn red jacket, the remaining four blocks to the community church seemed like one hundred miles. Yet he plowed on, determined to do his part and be patriotic. Sometimes Roger would pick up Night, brush him off, squeeze him inside his jacket, and carry him that way. This pro- cedure was carried on several times un- til they reached the church. Well, Night, here we are, he panted. Let's go in and get warm. Vlfith a yip of delight the dog followed Roger into the warm building. There were many people assembled around a stone fireplace. Some of the women were knitt- ing, and others just wandering among the group talking. Roger's mother had told him the deacons and pillars of the church would be there. He didn't see anyone that resembled a pillar, but maybe the fat lady in the corner would be one. She looked very soft. I'll have to make myself small to get to the fireplace, he thought to himself. Just then a lady with horn rimmed glasses glared at him and said, You naughty boy! Get that dirty old dog out of here! Another remarked, Whoever let that little brat in here? Someone else kicked Night and pushed Roger back towads the door. Big tears were welling up in the eyes of the hurt boy, but he mustn't cry. He was a big boy and going to be a sailor. Sailors didn't cry. Juts then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up into the face of a strange man. A Well, sonny, you seem to be having difficulties, he said. Come on over in this corner with me, and bring that fine pun too. Bashfully Roger followed the man to a bench where he sat down beside him with Night .in his lap. Now let's you and I get acquainted, said the stranger. My name is Dick, What's yours? My name is Roger n' my pup's is Night 'cause he's so black, answered Roger. He's my best pal and came clear from Thrush's Hollow with me tonight. That's where Mom and I live. What does your father do, Roger? asked Dick. Roger bit his lip and then looked straight into the stranger's kind eyes and said My Dad lives in heaven. You see, he died at Pearl Harbor n' he's a hero. I've got to live up to his name and take care of Mom. IShe's the prettiest and best Mom in the world. Confidently Roger told his new friend, Dick, all about his parents and his ambi- tion to be a sailor like his dad. Finally Dick interrupted, But what brought you here on such a stormy night? A look of incrdeulous surprise flickered over the boy's face and he replied, Why I've come to buy defense stamps to help Uncle Sam. I get twenty five cents a week carrying in wood for Mrs. Gardner. Mom says Dad would want me to be pat--pat- riotic, he stammered. Dick gazed at Roger in ,silence and then said, Son, your father did a great thing for his country, and your mother must be a wonderful woman. Just keep remember- ing Pearl Harbor and you'1l never go wrong. It's boys like you and with your spirit that will make the United States victorious. With these words Dick took from his pocket a paper and presented it to Roger saying, This is a gift to the greatest little patriot in the country. Of course the gift was a. United States Defense Bond. Janice Robinson '43

Page 24 text:

Cheerfulness If you were to judge by some people's expressions, you would think life a. lot harder and more discouraging than it really vis. Did you ever notice faces in acrowd? Some of them are sunny but many are either dull and expressionless or they bear a distinct frown. Those persons with the frown do not necessarily have more burdens and hard-ships than those who have smiles and an expression of goodwill towards the world in general. Everyone of us, young though we are, has problems. To older people they may seem trivial, but to us they seem very real. In a school like Ricker, there are sure to be students who have more spend- ing money or more clothes than others. But let us not be dissatisfied with our lot. We do not have to go around look- ing like a thunder cloud just because we don't seem as fortunate as some of the other students. It is not material possess- ions which count so much as personality. Our personality is reflected in our ex- pressions. A glum face certainly does not denote to a pleasing personality. With most of us, one of our chief con- cerns is schoolwork. We all worry more or less about exams, but there is no need to go around with a hopeless expression of despair. We should get busy and do some real work and do it cheerfully, not grudg- ingly as though someone is driving us. We owe it to ourselves to do the very best we can. It is not a good idea to put unpleasant things in the back of our minds, and shirk our duties ju-st because they may not be pleasant. We must think through our prob- lems. The point is, we do not have to air our private grievances and wear doleful expressions whlich speak as plainly as if we wore a label saying, I feel grouchy today because we lost the game last night. I haven't my assignments done, and Pm broke. The thing to do is to say, The team will play better next time. Get busy and do the lessons and resolve to be cheer- ful even if you are broke. These are not happy times in which we are living. 'There is no use ln saying, Oh, every thing is all right. For every thing is not all night. We have a war to fight. War brings destruction and sorrow. There is no sense though in taking an attitude that the wrong cannot be made right, that every thing is going to the dogs. We must havea cheerful hopefulness that there will be an ultimate vvictory. We've got to keep doing our part, and keep smiling. How can we expect our boys at the front to fight if we do not stand behind them cheerfuly and faithfully? At school here, let's try to forget our- selves and our petty grievances. Be will- ing to listen to the other fellow's problem. And finally above all let's keep smiling! Marilyn Fleming '43 Ricker Students A person entering the corridors and classrooms of Wording Hall at Ricker can see at the first glance the spirit and vi- tality of the Ricker students and teachers. He can see it in his surroundingsg the off- fice, the library, and in the faces of the .students a.bout him. The faces of the students who are mov- ing about from classroom to classroom do not greatly differ from the faces of the many thousands of students in other schools and other classrooms throughout the countryg but they show a great mix- of earnestness, ability, and happiness. earnestness showing in these faces 'is ture The the earnestness to accomplish the aims and ideals for which they are going to school and for which they are working and studying. Most of the students at Rlicker are sincere in their efforts to gain the knowledge and technique which will make them successful in future years. The abili- ty that is shown is the ablity to work with both their heads and their hands and to work as a group toward a successful end. The qualities of earnestness and ability are further proven by the Ricker athletic teams. In football, basketball, baseball, and all other sports the students at Ricker have shown a great amount of earnestness and ability, as well as a willingness to cooperate with their coaches and with each other. Sportsmanship, one of the greatest assets to man, aliso has been shown as an ever-present quality of all Ricker teams. Along with their being earnest and able. the Ricker students all appear happy. This is the result of a true friendship between students and teachers alike. In other schools the instructors and pupils may have a strong bond of friendship, but few schools approach as close as Ricker to the term One big happy family. Donald Taggett Junior College '43

Page 26 text:

Childhood Memories I remember the sweet saltiness of the fog on my lips, I still taste it as I did then when I came up from the shore. I can see the shoreline with its ledges and stretches of beach-gravel , hear the trickling of tiny freshets running over the slate rocks and the scrunching of seaweed under my bare feet. I shiver recalling the chill of cold water srlashed against my bare knees. I can hear the screech- ing of the herring gulls, see them as they weave in and out, milling overhead above the waste from the fish factory. I feel again the lonesomeness of a damp fall night, hear the comforting sound of the foghorn and then as if in answer the whistle of the tanker as she nears the oil wharf. I can look at my ink-smudged fingers and see instead the blue of blueberry stains. I can taste the lusclousness of the fruit and feel my mouth pucker at the bitterness of one lone, green berry. I remember the smell of hay as I helped tramp it with the nelghbor's chlildreng re- member the dusty smell of the same hay when it was used for litter in the henpens in the fall. I awaken in the morning and almost hear the cackllng and clucklng of the hens which I heard every morning in my youth. I can smell the pens, the ammonia smell of them on rainy days. I remember such things as the smell of tallow melting and old leather which had been left outside, the cold damp no e of my dog pressing against my hand, the piny smell of green wood which we burned in the kitchen stove. Again I remember the smell of my grandmothers house -- the sweet smell of spices mixed with the strong odor of curd sputtering on the back of the stove. I recall the sound of my grandmothers chuckle and see again how it started back of her eyes and shone its way into sound. Harriet McFadden Junior College, '42 Destiny Intervenes It was a cold, stormy night in late November that found Tony Gillespie trudg- lng wearily homeward. As he climbed the steps to the third-rate rooming house where he had been living since he came to the city, he began turning over in his mind the events leading up to this terrible night. Once inside the house he inquired from the landlady whether there had been any calls for him, hoping desperately that someone had answered one of the many applications he had filled. No, she answered in her harsh voice, and lf'n ya don't pay some a' yore room rent, I won't be takin' no calls fer ya, if there is any, which ain't likely. Yes, I'll attend to it. he replied hum- bly, stumbling up the stairs, weak from hunger, exhaustion, and hopelessness. In the privacy of his dilapitaded room, he threw himself on the rickety iron bed and gave himself up to thought. Let me see, he mused, it's just six months since I came to the city. In that time I have had two part-time jobs which lasted a week or so apiece. Nobody needs a radio technician to work anyway! God! I would take any kind of work I could get but there is none. To think that only six short months ago, I left Beaumont, Texas, to come to this great metropolis, thinking that by this time I would be sitting on top of the world! During his reminiscence, he had gotten up from the bed and was pacing nervously up and down the tiny room. Look at me, he said to himself dis- gustedly. A complete flop, a failure. He walked over to the broken cardboard wardrobe that served as his closet, to see if by chance there was something left that would bring a little at the pawn- broker's. No, there was nothing left but his shabby, threadbare overcoat which he must keep if he was to survive at all. As he closed the wardrobe, he glanced up on top of it where the landlady kept her meager supplies. His glance fell on a bottle marked poison. H'm, he said thoughtfully, poison. Downstairs the telephone clanged loudly, interrupting the crochety old landlady's supper. Dang it, she muttered to herself as she went to answer it. From the other end of the wire came a business-like. impersonal voice. Do you have a Mr. Tony Gillespie rooming at your house? it inquired. Yes, yes, croaked the old landlady ln her irritable manner. Out with it, what d'ye want with him? This is the W. D. C. Broadcasting Company where he filled an application for radio technician and we would like him to report for work tomorrow morning, went on the voice. Jlst a minute. boomed the landlady. I'll call him down and let ya talk to him. Hold the wire a minute. Mr. Gillespie, she roared. Oh, Mr. Gillespie! But there was no answer from above. Isabelle Richards '43