Rogers Hall School - Splinters Yearbook (Lowell, MA)

Page 15 text:

K N ii is 1 . . M 5 ' - 3 it-9 www A - M ,J s C it ' i Xi A V I ' ' gin 515, , 5 S N Q., ' V x, -is ,nr 5 , Qi.. Q X xx THE AVENUE Time marches on and takes with it monuments of eras once loved and cherished. How often do we fi11d ourselves referring to the good old days and the memory of a shaded la11e, a familiar face, or a first love. Some such memories survive the trials of the troubled years but most, sooner or later, succumb to 111ake room for the new. There is one place I can recall that was a city's showcase, East Ave- nue in Rochester, New York. It was on this elm-canopied street that George Eastman and many other old families of the city had huilt lovely ivy-covered homes interwoven with St. Paulis and other stately churches, the headstones of a peace that had prevailed on the avenue. East Avenue represented what the thriving metropolis of Rochester, although busy alld progressive, wanted to show it still possessedaeeheauty and dignity. But a drive down that avenue today reveals lots standing empty in mockery of the homes that once stood there. Neglect? No. Progress? VVho can say, hut there will be other East Avenues to take its place. JEAN LINDSAY, '60

Page 14 text:

Hurrying steps on the pavement Secure ladies in dress shops . Busy men with umbrellas Hopeful faces of fruit vendors And the cars whiz by- 'X Xt .T X on WORLD i t io X Eyes straight ahead-faces with a purpose Dodging, pushing-can't be late Relishing windows, sweeping sidewalks Rush and work--money and success And the children laugh- Horns honking, brakes screeching Old women crossing street Vagrants in doorways--eyes alert Impatient men, radios blaring And destruction so near. JULIE VAUG HAN, 59 ruuul' FDU UU UUU UU uv UF Uuvfuu , R Q 5 U

Page 16 text:

FACET OF LIFE In life exists no true serenity. But in a dew-clothed field, you say. Where cool breeze and uninvited bird disturb In life exists no true serenity. Serenity is death. DIANE DUBRULE, '60 SMOKE Smoke billows from a lonely stack- Rushes out with great vigor- Deviates, wavers in the winds, Mollifying winds-yet harsh. Vitality broken, billows disperse. Smoke looms over the city still. But with the advent of darkness, Away it creeps-away, away, away- DIANE DUBRULE, '60