South Side High School - Totem Yearbook (Fort Wayne, IN)

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TICKING As one leaf, alone Torn loose from its stem Is caught in mayhem Its spiraling dance Suspended in air Holds you in a trance an unblinking stare Lest you show weakness or even meekness to a foe unknown. Oh, wise little cat, No monster is that. You flee with relief But it's only a leaf — Donna Caroline 20 The routine. It turns the mind to a hardened mass, it changes the various voices to muted mur- murings, it blinds the eyes to col- ors and dulls dimension. The maddening ritual, the ringing routine, modeling itself in the mirror of the clock's cogwheels and gears, gives to everything the grainy gray texture of dirt and dust. It drills and it dims and it pounds and finally wins, turning the first rebellious red anger to a blind, black defeat disguised as ready acceptance. The wretched routine, tick-tick- ticking without end. —Hilary Held THE MILLIONS Each grain, lost yet found; Each is small, but important. We are like the sand. — Lori Benninghoff Is it foolish to share a dream? A dream that could bring happiness, A dream that could bring love. A dream whose memories we could cherish. —Maureen Granahan —John Hogan a I' u5011001 'Snt a place; ft's a state of mind- (Frank Zappa) A high school is more than a building of steel and mortar; it is a way of life Per- sonalities are shaped and molded from human clay. For better or worse, one is mar- ried to one s high school experiences for life. „. Thoughts on High School Ar } —-Jikesmt. I saw her looking at me. Oh, maybe it's just that I'm dreaming, Yes, that s it. Do you suppose she does like me? 'Sorry, not tonight. I've got to wash my hair. Write your name in the upper right hand corner ... Churchill, Winston S., A History of the English Speaking Peoples, «pQm„„ c ., «,., „ I, New York, Dodd', Ramon, South Side Mead Co., 1 956 Ram Ram That's all and have a good day. What'd ya get on that test yesterday'' Wanta skip lunch? I heard that likes you, but likes her. Thoughts on Graduation Maybe if I flunk a class I can stay a year longer. Who can I take to the prom? Can I have one of your senior pictures? What if I trip or my cap falls off? What do I want to take in college? Even after graduation, a person remains forever tied to his alma mater. His SAT scores follow him everywhere. student 16 °f mortar board could be said to represent the severed ties of the Seniors are very anxious to get each other's pictures for remembrance; certain African tabes believe that if you take their photograph, you are taking their souls. High school is in the eye of the beholder. To some it is a party, to others a torture °u0n?cau ,rade' t0 others a time to be free- To some il is serious, to others a farce. High School is an education in itself. — John Hobbs Tenderfoot The grass is dry And Sharp Leather grows on the dirty side of my feet Comes a day when the loving harshness shall make no impression on the nerveless flesh But today I am with the Small pains of tenderness. Great sadness in their times, they are later to be laughter of fond smiles. So much the matted straw seeks mesh with me and I can only wait For toughness. — Jenny Kern

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daydreamer daydreamer, the road lay straight before you but you chose the grassy bypath and sat among the flowers against a tree, lulled by the songbirds' happy chorus rocked by a gentle breeze in the warm sunshine. daydreamer rides white horse clouds in the sky, soars with the hawk, and floats on the lake. daydreamer saw all, felt everything, heard much, but stopped to count the stars before leaving. — Becky Anderson Time goes on, past the cold stone memorials; time goes on, countless centuries, with men using others as naught but a pawn. Men scratching and clawing, trying to leave their mark. All is wasted; time covers all, eroding all but quark! — Kevin Ringenberg Retarded Girl Retarded girl Adorned in white Her face Twisted in palsy; clownish. And overcoming my fears to lay a comforting hand on a hopeless spirit and mind. I receive no word no sigh of appreciation, but looking into retarded eyes; A haunting, mongoloid expression I feel A twitch somewhere, in her knobby, pale hands for a fleeting second A glance of absurd intelligence. A person; A genius who knows exactly why I am here. — Jennifer Erickson LITERARY ART SECTION ;a The nver flows endlessly mirroring my soul as it smooths boulders into pebbles, rocks into sand, dust from trees eroding life with the intensity of the water. Light glowing on the glistening glass reflects the unsteady rippling and smoothing of a turbulent past. There is a small wheel formed where someone stuck his hand. The river struggles to stop its meandering to pause, live life and not always destroy itself with its search for better things or a quieter wind in which to stay. But it rambles yet. climbing stepping stones, mounds of earth, and weeds: wandering, wondering; is life to be found? — Jenny Langhinrichs -Mark Clevenger 21