Siskiyou Union High School - White and Gold Yearbook (Weed, CA)

Page 31 text:

You cannot see the sky above, Or those familiar hills. It blots the distant field from View And each small valley fills. lt penetrates into your heart. It seems to drag you down. That lnorhid feeling that you feel Is felt throughout the town. And as the days drag on and on, While Fall and lvinter wed, You feel that you will lose your mindg You wish that you were dead. And then one morn with heavy heart, You rise up from your hed To find the world now bright Zlllll clear The awful fog has fled. With hungry eyes you gaze upon The sights that you once knew. The hills stand out in sharp relic-fg The sky is clear and hlue. The load is lifted from your heartg It seems to leap with joy, And life seems sweet and kind again. You're now a happy hoy. That wall is gone that formed a pall Of worry over you. And now youive happy thoughts to think And happy things to do. It seems to you as if the age Of joy has just begun. Your heart is lightg your soul is free. You walk now in the SUN. llrlILTON BLAKE Yreka High School 44 23 Pb

Page 30 text:

ll.IllllE lllE PHSS BV Second Prize Essay It had been in all the papers, we had all seen the notice, read the item, and passed it over as we usually do with things that do not touch us directly, and we forget. Yesterday however, I came across a notice placed on a bullcti11 board in an obscure little town down the Klamath. The sign was hand printed and had been pushed over to a corner of thc board to make room for what IIIOSI people thought were more immediate and vital matters. But the small sign-H550 reward for anyone finding the body of 1ny sonf' signed by his mother, was a symbol of mother love. A boy was drowned in that treacherous river two months before, was finally given up for lost, and probably never will be recovered. That small sign tells anyone who pauses to think, that there is one who is still waiting and hoping, one who will never forget-his mother. JANEY SIGLER Fort Jones High School F06 Second Prize Poem Gray days and nights in this cold world, That chill you to the bone. It clutches at your very soul, You feel forlorn-alone. The world around is out of sightg You cannot sec the sky. You cannot see the house next door, Or neighbors passing by. And all the scenes that you 01106 knew Are hidden from your sightg Your world is but a wall of grey, You canit tell day from night. cc 22 an

Page 32 text:

THE IIIIIUDIBLE UUICE Honorable Mention My life rested in the collective palm of the eight me11 and four women who sat before me. A thump was pounding within me-jerking the blood in my veins. I could hear a voice saying, Scream at themf, It became louder, '4They don't care what happens to you. On the elevated pavilion sat the man whose voice would tell the crowd what my destiny would be. My voice was stilled. To utter words was useless. My brow became heavy with a cold sweat. My hands felt cold, and my fingers became frozen. My body was tense. A feeling of terror and sadness crept upon me. Only one person in the room knew the truth. He held the delicate thread to which I was clinging with all my st1'cngth. He had committed the murder. I had helped himg yes-but I wasn't the murderer. His word could free me from the bond of Death. Before my eyes reappeared the vision of that fatal night-the night the police performed their duty. One more minute and I would tell them the truth. They couldn't hang me. I was only an accomplice. I once again looked at the jury before me. They were calm-life meant nothing to them. They would continue to live. I glanced at the judge. He was holding the paper-the paper! The verdict was before him. I saw his eyes read the sentence- Guilty, of first degree murder. He brushed his hand across his brow, and I could sec the gleam of his teeth. He was going to pronounce me guilty-guilty! I clutched the chair with all my might. There was a deep silence in the cou1't- room. The people, the stillness, the suspension was too great. I rose and faced the crowdg the crowd who was interested only in what the judge was saying. llfy body was weak, but I screamed,-yes, I screamed to the eight men and four women who now were no longer needed. Sure, Iim guilty. Do you hear me. 1,111 guilty Ii' Slowly I became conscious. Wliy, what had sec111ed to me a scream had only been a mere whisper. A whisper that was being drowned out by the voice of the judge who was reading the verdict pronouncing me, uNot guilty. LAURA PASTEGA Wfecd High School cc 24 my