Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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29 When Father Goes Away Ligi Goddard, ' 47 WHEN Father goes away, all the mechani- cal devices in the house seize the oppor- tunity to rebel. There is a mysterious air about Father which seems to discourage all disobedience and household disasters; but soon alter Father has made his exit, any catas- trophe is likely to occur. The roof might leak or cave in, the pump in the cellar might sputter and give up, the telephone might retuse to ring, or the water pipes might bmst. This last calamity stamps itsclt most vividly in my mind because, during Father ' s recent absence, the plumbing system collapsed. About five minutes after Father had dashed through the door, I was busy in the kitchen getting supper ready. With dismay I heard a queer gushing noise which seemed to be coming from the garage. I rushed out to investigate. The garage was flooded with water, and my little ship, which is stored there, was almost ready to set sail. From one of the water pipes issued a spouting stream. Luckily, at that time the telephone was in working order. But not one of the five plumbers whom I called would agree to come until much later in the day or possibly the next day. Three hours slowly ticked away, and no assistance had come. After a last frantic appeal to one of the plumbers, I finally secured a promise of help. Within a half hour the plumber arrived at the house with his kit of tools. The plumber tried, seemingly in vain, to locate the place, underground, where the vater supply to the garage could be shut off. Instead of using a shovel to locate the crucial spot, he used a labor-saving device called a detector, which consisted mainly of a dial and a small chain from which it hung. When the dial was liung over anything made of metal, the needle on the dial was supposed to move. After an hour ' s unsuccessful attempts, I was beginning to think the detector was only a bluff. I uttered a sigh of relief wlien finally the needle gave a slight wriggle. My troubles were over, I thought. While thanking the plumber profusely, I noticed that he seemed disconcerted. I was stupified wlien he told me that plimibers never dig holes. I would have to hire an excavator to dig down to the water pipe, and tlien I could telephone the plimiber again. He said lie would be glad to come over and repair the pipe as soon as it was uncovered. Too discouraged lor words, I turned and fled into the house. The water was still rushing from the garage pipe; and the concave floor, filled with water, formed an ade(juate ocean for my lit tle ship to moor itself in. Mother and I kept saying over and over again, If only Pather were here! At nine p.m. I left the house to attend a party, my spirits much bedraggled. When I departed, there were still no signs of the diggers. At midnight, when I staggered up- stairs to bed, I decided that a hot bath would soothe my shattered nerves. But when I tin ned on the faucet, there was only a gurgle. I stormed into my room and found a note from Mother saying that the diggers hadn ' t come, and that the Water Department had tinned olf the main water supply. I was so exhausted that I had not even noticed that the gushing noise was no longer coming from the garage. The next morning the situation didn ' t look cjuite so discouraging. The excavator finally arrived, and after the digging was accom- plished, t he plumber, with a little persuasion, did his share. At noon the pipe was fixed, and we had water again. Father came home late in the afternoon and listened with amusement to our tales of distress and misfortune. He pointed out that Mother and I should learn more about the mechanics of running the house. Mother answered him by using a little female psy- chology— fiattery. She told him that he had an indefinable charm which seems to ward off any calamity. The Pilgrims Marv Jane Steioart, 8B They sailed, they sailed across the sea And found a land for you and me; These Pilgrims came here just to pray And worship God in their own way. They landed in Plymouth by the shore. Where they settled and roamed no more; 1 hey suffered much and many died, But still they prayed and did abide.

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28 fresh pain, these moods; and their music is like a beautiful symphony, so perfect, so lovely, that it seeps to the depths of your soul, and you feel your spirit freed from the chains of life and body, and flying on the wings of rapture. Some moods are disconnected, distracted fragments of the symphony. Discontentment and uneasiness rumble through us like drums, and realization clashes through the darkness like cymbals. Fears fill these moods, striking the soul as discordant sounds in a symphony, full of dissonance and strife, but somehow, vitally necessary to the composition. And then these moods swing into rich, full music, with every theme of pain, love, happi- ness and discord blended together in violins, harps, drums and horns to form a flood of overpowering life in all its complexities: an endless symphony. Clouds Louise Reddy, ' 48 High up in the heavens Nested in a sky of blue, The airy clouds come flying. Bringing messages to you. The world was full of anguish. Of horror, and of sin. And the clouds of war hung o ' er us. Dreary, dark and dim. The clouds of war were parted On one September day, And peace, for a world united. Showed forth its glorious ray. And now, again, around us With sorrow and crying filled The world is growing darker,— The clouds of war weren ' t stilled. But soon will come the victory Of peace, forever more. And with this glorious dawning A world of hope, in store. High up in the heavens Nested in a sky of blue, The airy clouds come flying. Bringing messages to you. Let ' s Go Jean Holcomb, ' 47 Come on, kids, let ' s go, is a familiar ex- pression to every high school girl and boy. There is hardly a time in the corridors of high schools, on athletic fields, or on city streets when some youth is not urging his friend to join him. Let ' s go? Go where? Onward to score a victory on the football field or basketball court, to meet at the drugstore where the gang gets together, to chase another group of teen-agers in a speeding car, or — to a promising future? Just where are your footsteps directed when you follow your friend ' s urgent beckoning? Do they lead toward a successful, happy and healthy life? A clear, definite destination is difficult for many of today ' s youth to con- ceive. And yet, the stepping stones leading toward your destination are self-evident; in- tegrity, reliability, affability, common sense, ambition are all important steps in the path to your goal. These qualities can be acquired when one is young, but must be developed to a higher degree during the high school years. It is the personal responsibility of today ' s younger generation to accept the chal- lenge of developing these virtues. Through the church, the home, the school, and other organizations, young people are realizing tlrat the development of these characteristics is vital to a successful future. More important, they are realizing the necessity of choosing a suitable destination or goal to work toward and achieve. The world of today presents a series of opportunities; the result of grasping these opportunities is achievement. Most young people consider juvenile delin- quency as a subject very remote. Neverthe- less, do they realize what that one quick ride through the city, speeding, may lead to? Or what idle visits with the gang on the city sidewalks may possibly result in? Or the in- fluence of a friend who might suggest, Take just one drink, go ahead! Such everyday activities will not lead to a successful goal. The stepping stones to a worth-while destina- tion can be destroyed by such apparently minor occurrences, which are actually the basis of the future. If you, as the youth of today, could com- prehend what Come on, kids, let ' s go! might mean in years to come, you surely would give heed to where your goal may lie! So, Come on, kids, let ' s go along the step- ping stones of youth to a prosperous and suc- cessful destination!

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30 Mistaken Identity Warren O ' Shea, 8B IT was a beautiful rosy dawn that was beginning to break over Kendall Field, Florida. Captain Earl Stanton stood admir- ing his newly-arrived B-17, a heavy bomber which sat clumsily facing into the gentle breeze on Runway Three. Twenty minutes later. Captain Stanton and his crew stood in Operations Office just before take-off for a briefing. It was Lazy Mary ' s turn to patrol for subs, and although her crew was hopeful, they doubted whether they would even hear of a sub. A few minutes later, they filed out and climbed aboard their waiting ship, the pro- pellers of which were turning over evenly in the now-bright sunlight. Captain Stanton was a tall man, well-built, with a shock of black hair. He was young, about twenty-four, and wise. He boasted a Texas drawl, and had a wide smile. He gunned the engines with brakes set, and the plane shuddered. Then he let down the flaps and released the brakes, and the plane shot down the runway. Split seconds later, the landing gear was up, the flaps were up, the crew was relaxing, and Lazy Maiy was climb- ing rapidly. They reached a 30,000-foot alti- tude and leveled off just as the coastline slipped beneath the plane ' s trim fuselage. She responded beautifully to every known trick in the book. They were now well out over the ocean and they banked southward. Just then, the peering, hopeful navigator shouted, Suspi- cious fish below at 5:30 o ' clock! The plane tipped as Earl calmly said, Man your battle stations. He took the plane down to 200 feet and leveled off. The bombardier shouted ex- citedly! Sub below, German U-boat— Lubein type! The engines roared and the plane climbed for altitude for a bombing run. She climbed steadily to one thousand feet, banked, and leveled off with the sun at their backs. Once again the sub came into view and its shadow was changing from black to gray! It was diving fast, but it was a large sub and the target was still clear. Suddenly, Bob Benton, tail gunner, yelled something over the intercom, and screamed in agony! The unmistakable whine of a Me. 109 was heard as it streaked past. It was equipped with floats. The forward and top giuis spit death, and the tracers, smoking, bit deep into the 109 ' s stabalizer! It climbed rapidly and banked. Then it disappeared! But this run, the bombardier was determined to get that sub! He called out instructions. Bear to the left — Hold ' er. Skipper — Steady — Steady — Bombs Away ! Earl felt the plane lighten just as the Messerschmidt came in again. Gims chattered and metal chipped from ninnbers one and two engines! Flame streamed from them, and the automatic ex- tinguishers went to no avail on No. One en- gines! However, the fire in No. Two went out! The plane was lumbering on when the air about the banking plane shuddered! Look- ing below, they saw the sub disintegrate, and then slip below the water ' s oily, scarlet sur- face! I hen they knew why the plane was there— the sub had launched it previously! A voice broke the silence. Bob looks badly wounded, sir, but he ' ll live. Shall I man his post? It was Jim Kent- worth, the navigator. O. K., was the answer, but it was cut short by the chattering of guns. Earl heard some unpleasant nickel-jacketed messengers of death whistle, splinter the canopy Plexi- glass, and plough into the instrument board! As the fighter plane shot past, it too disinte- grated and plummeted earthward. Lazy Mary turned ruefully homeward, shot to bits but victorious! As she approached the field, she tried to transmit her difficulties to base, but the radio was in pieces! Then short bursts of flack exploded near the plane and one scored a hit! The tail slumped backwards like a crazy stunt rider, and like a woimded bird, the plane slipped earthward slowly, smoking from a severed oil line which spilled oil on the red hot parts, making smoke. The plane made a sickening belly land- ing, dug one wing into the runway and stopped short! The crew climbed out carry- ing Bob; and when the ambulance had taken him a vay, Colonel Cross shook hands with Earl and said, We thought you were a shot up ' Krout. ' That sure vas a mistaken iden- tity. It sure was, Earl agreed with a wry smile as he glanced at his plane ' s smouldering remains in the afternoon sun. It sure was, he said to himself.