Rogers Hall School - Splinters Yearbook (Lowell, MA)

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Academic Anxiety IN? Always that question with the future in mind Always a fear you'll be left behind, Never too sure what will be their last say, Never sure once you're there, if you'll be on your way . . . OUT! KATHY LATHAM '66 Friday It's 2: 16 on a Friday- My seat next to the door, Four minutes to go- That's all I need to know. Soon the bell will ring- I'm nervously twisting my ring. I can't bear it any longer! I timed my exit yesterday- Four seconds to the door, Five more to grab my bag- And if I don't trip at the gate, Then I'm free! TINA WRIGHT '68 lt Was Fascination My story begins on any day, anywhere. It's about everyone. The music was beautiful. The performance was excellent. Critics had acclaimed the symphony to be a perfect masterpiece. The composer was ecstatic. As we left, her voice could be heard saying, I wonder if his moustache was waxed? There was a terrific disturbance. The customs oH-icer had detected the jewel smuggler. Why, look at that nice policeman helping that poor man with his bags, she said. The streets were dark, there were ruts in the road. The buildings were dark and dingy. Windows were broken and glass was strewn on the sidewalk. That's disgraceful, she said. 'That poor dog looks hungry. The crowd gasped. All eyes were directed upward as the trapeze artist lost his balance. Just as he fell, she said, I wonder what that flimsy rope is made of. The newspapers, radios, and televisions blared the news. A cure for cancer had been found! Mankind was saved. Oh dear, now what shall they do with all those X-ray machines? she pondered. There is a moral to this story. It goes like this: A stitch in time save nine. CATHERINE Cowres '67

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Revelation Quiet moments Spent alone Thoughts press Though they've been forevvarned Hazed in time Subdued in growth Greyed in tone But one forgets He tries . . . At the same time To damn all blythe spirits And scratch from mind lmpending thoughts Hovering near. To erase his feelings, His love, His hurts And reveal now his face Carved out of stone. But he only succeeds ln exposing his wounds Cruely inflicted Swollen with pain Tasted with salt grains To nature's own cure Gblivious to man Still willing to heal. SUE BARON '66

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A Letter To John ROGERS HALL L.ow:LL, MAIIAUHUBETTB It is the sixth of December, a Sunday. The fact that Christmas is just around the corner, so to speak, has finally reached home. eeeeeeeeeckkkl I am excited. Snow, Santa, toys ho ho ho etc. HELID Storm, Sheri, Mar, Minda, and I say HELLO....nhellon...merrily The Stones sing.....n congradulations, I only want to make love to you, round an'a round, off the hook, little red rooster, tell me, not fade away...surprise surprise, you can't catch me, little by little, good times bad times, grown up wrong, it's all over now, empty heart, everybody needs somebody...congradulations.N The machine will not reject, it's so darned tempermental...AhL sher has made up wfit... good little machine g.e. do your Stuff..........play...not fade away. One 194 bag of popcorn eeeck. popcorn! I hate it. I like yellow chiclets, tho. Flowers are nice. yes... My flower is the lily of the va1ley....it means return of happiness. How pleasant, and imaginary, yet my world is so, why shou1d1t'my flower be also ??. Princeton tigers think that they are tough. It is a nice thing to imagine too. I know many unimaginative tigers, how nice, yes i know....So DO I...ME too. Oughll I just hit my foot on the corner of my bed.eeeeeeeeeeee...ca1led the Panama Limited, T.Rush singing... Ushe got up singing and crying...she said too late too late too late, I think I'm a gonna leave you now...U Bob Dylan got secretly married over Thanksgiving vacation, I have no record to put on the machine, I8ve listened to them al1...how boring. goodness I8ve been making mistakes, typing ones also...a braclet hangs heavily from my ear. Last nite at the dance, I went to sit down and SuSie pulled the chair out from under me. It was so well planned! actually it wasn't, but nevertheless i Fell gracefully to the floor...and sat. Ohh I like to sing, too, but I think I'd be a better actress. I am capable of fooling everyone, anyone. There is little talent in it, it is cute and dry and cut evenly. It is not necessary that I do this, incoherent me...oooooh yes..........no.. sigh,?,iU After all it is Sunday and I am tired. I suppose that I shall sleep, or maybe read, yes...I must stop playing...it isn't becoming of a girl my age, and if I do continue, I suppose that it would be far more Practical to use dollsfto play wfthem. They aren't cheaper, but oftentimes are a lot more symtathetic, even tho they can't hear they listen...yes I am too young, i is better that i don't play wfpeople that are only playing too, someone needs to lead the way. Right now 18m tired of directing, I think that I will hitch-hike the rest of the way home. Strangers are good company for those who have stories to tell or an ear to listen, I suspect that I have both...many happy returns of the day to you, sweet prince, there is somewhere waiting for you, a sleeping beauty, I don't fit the usual description and ifI haven't been asleep for a very long time, it's nice to wake up, on a cold Sunday, then wrap yourself in a warm bl-anketoooothis is where I Came inoooceoooo10Veo uusu cocoon Q .meggin MEG FOSTER '66