South Side High School - Optimist Yearbook (Newark, NJ)

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WHY SO RESTLESS? ) y Dis into the core

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esmen AA—A— ———— —————— Senior Optimist MADE IN GERMANY 5.3 Crash! A small glass crashed resoundingly of the large dimly-lit office ‘Bah! Made in Germany!” growled at the large desk. Dr. Paul R. Froelich muttered to himself, then reached for another glass. Not finding any, he tilted the bottle to his lips and drank a long draught. It had been many years since he had taken a drink. Way back when he had started his career in the university. He hadn't met his Anna yet Poor dear Anna; she had been so lovely. Her dark hair, lovely eyes—sh: had been so beautiful. Verdamnt Germans! The old mas eyes gleamed with thought of how his lovely Anna had died under the persecution mans, his own people. Yes, they had killed his Anna but he had with the boy. Ach! Carl! Such a good boy! Why, he'll be twelve next month I must get him something nice. Already he wants to become a famous doctor like his father. He always bothers Gretchen to let him play doctor. She 1s such a good woman, Gretchen. It is lucky I found her to take care of my Carl. She is devoted to the boy. If only she wouldn't talk so much German. She promises not to, but every time she becomes excited she forgets. Ach! It is bad for the boy! | want him to forget German! The old doctor paused in his musings to take another swig from the bottle when something on the label caught his eye “Made in Germany! Bah, I hate everything with those words!” The enraged surgeon paused, the bottle half-way to his lips. With a sweep of his arm, he sent the partly-filled bottle crashing against the far wall of the room, the liquor making a large stain on the polished wood-work Just as the old doctor sank into his chair, a timid knock was heard on the door. “Come” growled Froelich and glared at the young, pale-faced interne who cautiously invaded the sanctity of his private office. “What 15 it you wish ?” | | | “Excuse me for bothering you, sir, but there is an emergency case that just came in. A young boy, sir, with a ruptured appendix. There is an old lady with him who seems to be trying to tell us something but we can't understand her. She is excited and can talk only in German.” “German! Bah! Dogs! Tell Dr. Bruder to handle this case.” Dr. Bruder! Why he has never handled an operation in his life! Why this is murder!” The young interne's eyes flashed. Silence! shouted the old surgeon, the liquor mounting to his brain His eyes flashed with his long hatred for his old fatherland. I am in charge here! Tell Dr. Bruder to prepare for the operation. Go!’ The youth in white turned on his heel and softly closed the door behind him. Bah! Germany! muttered the gray-thatched physician as he settled back Page 4

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ннн Senior ( )pt imist the system, bringing great unhappiness to its petulant victims, who flounder about like drowning persons in the sea of their ever-increasing desires. To want is painful, but to want without hope of ever attaining, is torturous. Restlessness, sometimes, like a pregnant seed in fertile land, brings forth a rich harvest. Often it may lead to the making of some powerful, great, or beautiful creation. It may serve to innoculate man with the stamina needed to attain his goal. Then again it may work against him like some bad drink, destroying whatever possibilities there may have been for him to fulfill his life's ambition. AMONG OUR SOUVENIRS F. M. Father Time has tolled the huge bell in the tower of Eternity. Four times its ominous gong reaches the reluctant ears of us graduates, informing us that four happy, eventful years have passed. Four years spent among the familiar faces of friends and under the patient, diligent instruction of congenial teachers. These sweet memories are indelibly etched upon our brain, stored up in our mental warehouses to be reviewed tenderly, one by one, many years hence, when we feel the vital need of them. Seemingly, as if on wings, the time has passed since we first entered South Side's welcoming portals. As we gaze into the past we see ourselves as we were then: eager, bursting with youthful enthusiasm, and possessing a hunger for knowledge that only book l'arnin' could appease. Zealously we set to work, and soon we discover a year has passed. In the sophomore year a bit of the glitter has worn off and gone is that robust enthusiasm we first possessed. But i n its stead we find a more mature yen for the better things in life. Reborn in us is the desire that urged us on through the years of our primary school instruction. Eagerly again we set to work and speedily another year rolls by. It is in the junior year that the lipstick and hair bobs appear in girls and the gruff voice and tobacco odor in boys. The brass is beginning to show through on the face of our shining ideal as we encounter that menace to a student's well-being, namely, the exam! However, the thought of future grad- uation spurs our souls with encouragement and somewhere we gather up the maimed strings of our shattered illusion and struggle on. The senior year has come at last! What a joyous steiere: of that illusion which we had until it was brutally killed by those exams! Merrily we pitch in and manage to wade through the swirling financial waters which threaten to engulf us. But Lady Luck wearily guides us and—here we are! Yes, fellow-graduates, this brief description is just a summary of the emo- tions, worries and thoughts we all have had, at some time during our four happy years at South Side. And, as our thoughts unconsciously race ahead, striving to peek into the key-hole of the future, we murmur contently It takes life to love life.