Rogers Hall School - Splinters Yearbook (Lowell, MA)

Page 16 text:

THE NEVER ENDING Fall approaches --?-it leaves tumble and fall tenderly on the barely frost-bitten ground. XVinter approaches ------ leaves are securely hidden by millions of snowflakes, the air is bitter cold. Soon the snow melts and rushing streams are flowing under the shadow of flower buds. Spring is born. A heat wave now flourishes and all flowers are in bloom. Summer has come. . . . And so life goes on . . KEATH HINSDALE LIFE To me, life is a glimpse behind the scenes, seeing people as they are backstage. To me, life is the enchantment of learning . . . the wonder of finding the new each week. To me, life is the joy of discovery. Finding sights that I never planned to see To me, life is an unforgettable face in the passing crowd each week. To me, life is a world of wonder. VVhimsy, beauty, drama brought close. To me, life is a parade of color and beauty that might otherwise pass me by. To me, life is people with their masks on and off . . . as they look, as they really are. And to you, NVhat is life? ' JANIS WooDwARD

Page 15 text:

THE BUS STOP Tl1e bus jerked to a wheezing halt, emitting irritating fumes as it did so. Many people disembarked, but others were waiting, anxious to take their places. I was one of this throng of people. YVhen the waiting throng began to ascend the steps, I lagged behind discussing finance with a fellow traveler. The first passenger to climb aboard was Truth - valid, unimpeacha- ble, precise, unadulterated, unsophisticated Truth. Following on his heels was clean cut, serious, sometimes harsh Reality. The next passenger to surmount the steps was radiant, Sanguine, propitious Hope, accompanied by her two virtuous and faithful sisters. The most radiant passenger of all, however, was Love, for embodied in her was all the humility, all the sin- cerity, all the compassion, all the simplicity that the world has ever known. VVhen it seemed that no more people were to hoard, the driver solemn- ly closed the doors of the half-filled bus. At the noise of the motor and the shift of the gears, my companion and I were aroused from our trivial talk -just in time to see life pass us by. JULIE UPHAM DEATH A mirror is cracked dreams are shattered a child screams the world ends JULIE UPHAM

Page 17 text:

cf V' ,f ,'77f ...J ,4 3. f U y 5 9 -'---'nz-' V 1 A , L... 3, g, 63119 NOTICE: TO THE STUDENTS AND FACULTY OF ROGERS HALL I have no eyes with which to see you, yet I know your many faces. I have no ears with which to hear you, but I know your diff erent voices. My, edges are worn thin from your many caresses. Each morning I arise Dromptly at seven. After the morning bell, the first thing I hear are the groggy voices and the heavy steps of those aroused from a deep sleep. However, as soon as warmth and light enters their bodies, I can hear them rushing to breakfast and then hurrying to prepare for school. In all the time I have heard these footsteps, I have rarely heard anything of great import being said - only trivialities. As the day proceeds I have many visitors. About ten each morning staunch, loyal Stanley comes bearing the mail. On Sundays he is replaced by faithful Bill with the newspapers. Of course, students are continually entering to transact their particular business over my scarred body - ar- ranging for plane tickets, cashing checks, mailing packages, making phone calls, or checking the train schedule - constant activity. And meanwhile in the background is the undulating, dissociated clamor of a hundred voices. Relative peace comes to me only at night, both during evening study hall and also after lights out. During the former I hear only occasional footsteps, the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen, and the hushed, ille- gal whispering of students in the hallway. After the final bell rings at night all is still and then I too may rest, lulled to sleep by the ticking, old clock in the front office, the whirring of the new electric clock above me, the ir- regular humming of the furnace, and the clanging of the pipes in the corner. Through the years I have heard much. Most prominent are probably Mrs. Staten's outlandish tales. Next in importance, I would rank Miss Mul- hern's saying many times, This time I'm leaving for good! In addition