South High School - Oriole Yearbook (Pittsburgh, PA)

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Administration Czlasses .... fXcHviUes... fXthletics. .. SOUTH I .4L,Sgg!1 . CONTENTS ' 3412 J 1940 Page Page Page Page 1 1 4 6 9

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THE AMERICAN SOUTH Thanlc God that lim an American. That time-vvorn phrase is heard. Again it echoes through our land Now that the war's horrors have be The thunder of cannon, roaring forth, Banging against opposing walls? The anguished cry of wounded men f-lit by rifle balls. Here too, the cannons thunder forth And balls ricochet against walls, But here the cannon are hickory sticlcs And the bullets, basebalis. l'lere opposing armies clash ln baseball, football, and on tracks, But there the armies clash in death With steel, gas, and lead attaclcs. There the people flee to shelters While overhead bombers roar, But here the people happily watch The mighty transports lift and soar. The enemy may start a frontal attaclc Or a deceptive submarine onslaugh l lelmeted heads may crash together, But here gridiron battles are fought Not on a shell-torn battlefield Nor a deadly mine-laden sea, WAY en ungird ti And not in the slcy, where wings of death May blast you into eternity. Let me use that phrase again That's echoing from man to man Keeping peace throughout our land, Thank God that l'm an American. -GEORGE KOCHKA 1940

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SOUTH TO A MAN With heavy heart, but smiling face, the essence of his race, He stood erect and unafraid, Of another grim tomorrowl Unafraid, 'cause he knelt and pray'd When confronted by life's sorrow. To him, life meant the joy of living, To love, and be loved by others, Stainless faith and boundless giving, And all mankind-brothers. Now, man had gone mad in a war-torn world, Civilization at its lowest ebb, Once smiling lips in sneers were curl'd, And the fires of Hell, rekindled and fed. Men took up arms without knowing why, And committed horrible deeds, Many died-some with a curse, some with a sigh, According to their creeds, Strewn o'er the gory field ln a grotesque, heaping, array, Where men against steel had reel'd Their broken bodies lay. Scenes so ghastly to behold, T'would make a strong man weak, Distorted bodies stiff, and cold, Destruction at its peak. Disease and pestilence reigned supreme, The stench of rotted flesh reeked to the skies, Carrion birds for joy would scream, And men would stare with sightless eyes. Vet, if one man fell in needless death, Ten more his space would fill, Fi hting ,till the very last breath LeftTwis body lamp and Sail. He sickened, and his conscience quaked, As he stood amid this bleak turmoil, His rifle against his shoulder brac'd, He tried his best to be loyal. Who was he to take another's life? To that-only God had the right- He needed help in this hour of strife, So he prayed far into the night. The fatal hour was near, Guns began to rumble and pound, The foe he could see and hear, Some screamed, and slid to the ground, He aimed against his will, He saw in the sights-a human soul, He did not firel-He could not kill, The bullet never reached its goal. He prayed to God that others might live, And when this prayer was done, He asked God his foes to forgive, A coward?-He was a man, my son. -ROBERT AIKEN 1940