St Johns Cathedral School - Chimes Yearbook (Paterson, NJ)

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SAINT JOHN ANNUAL .-,M MN the jam where the logs were grinding against each other in the churning waters. He heard the yells of warning. Hi, Steve! Look out! Jump! Two logs closed in on Steve's log. They hit it from the opposite sides and from behind. It shot into the air like a plane going up. Steve gripped frantically with his feet, but they went from under him. He went sprawling into the water and disappeared. When he came up he was near the jam. Grant didn't hesitate. He went into the water as Steve reappeared. He swam swiftly towards him. Steve disappeared again. A cut in his head was bleeding. He was unconscious. Grant re- membered grasping Steve by the hair and fighting with him to the shore. And he remembered what Steve said to him that night, standing twisting his cap, in the office. Boss, you save Steve's life. Not much of a life, but you save it. Sometime, I pay. Grant sighed. Those were the days, the days of his youth. His sec- retary came in. There is a man here and he insists on seeing you. Here is his card. Grant read it. Anastasius Asoupopulisf' I don't know him,', he said, but send him in. The man who burst through the door was short and enormous. Above his paunch a barrel of a chest ran into massive shoulders from which protruded an egg-shaped head lighted with brown eyes and crowned with thin black hair. ' A Mr. Grant,', he said briskly, I represent a Greek syndicate. We want the opportunity of handling any loan you may wish to float up to thirty millions. Thirty millions, Grant said, his mouth gaped open. Why, man, you must be crazy. Do you realize that this is the Inter Commercial Bank? And that we are about to close our doors? I realize, said the enormous one, that this is the Inter Commercial Bank, but I did not realize that you are about to close your doors. You are not, because you, John Grant, are the president. 'lWhat's that got to do with it,,' waved Grant. Lots, boss, the enormous one grinned suddenly. Don,t you know me? I'm Steve. One day you saved my life. I have come to repay you. Hours later John Grant still sat shaking his massive old head with its thick batch of iron gray hair. He hunched .his great shoulders and gazed, with his clear gray eyes in the year-scarred, strong hard-lipped face, ab- sently out of his oHice window into the Inter Commercial Bank building, at the East River and the panorama of modern towers that hurled their steel and stone toward the sky. WILLIAM BAKER. Twenty-three

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SAINT JOHN ANNUAL V60 gag, Recompense OHN GRANT was broke. Studying the long list of bank shares, rail- road bonds and stocks which in normal times would bring him close to thirty millions, he realized bitterly that the total of its present value would not nearly approach the million and a half he needed to weather the storm. ' So the Inter Commercial Bank, his bank, which he founded thirty years ago, would close its doors, leaving him not only penniless but dis- honored. Tomorrow the Inter Commercial Bank would join the list of banks that had closed their doors since the disaster which occurred in 1929. Tomorrow he would become known as John Grant, the crooked banker who wrecked the Inter Commercial and lost all the depositors' money. Tomorrow he would be broke and branded as a thief at sixty- eight. He thought of Catherine, his wife, who had shared her life with him. She knew that he was an honest man, and that if he were guilty of any- thing it was of bad judgment, of pyramiding, a technical wrong-doing practiced throughout the history of finance. Catherine would under- stand that it was more a series of criminal misfortunes than a criminal act. He got up and paced the floor. This, he told himself, was no time to sit there and accept defeat. It was time to fight. But he had noth- ing left with which to fight. The Reconstruction Finance Corporation had refused his bank a loan with, he admitted, a good reason. He went over in his mind the few real friends he had made in his lifetime, because any help he might get in this moment would have to come from friends. There were five men he could depend upon. They were, strangely, in different walks of life. None of them was in a position to help him. Besides, he admitted, men would not come rushing to him with aid after what he had done to them in his life. It was quarter and he never indulged in quarter. A sense of relief suddenly possessed him. His hands fell to his sides and he began to think of his past life: of chopping timber, of logs tumbling down the river to lock themselves in a jam, of Steve, a tiny Greek lumberjack whose unpronounceable name had been Americanized. He had saved Steve's life. The memory came back to him in a thrilling picture of the most exciting ten minutes of his life. It was a day in early Spring. They were moving the logs into the river. He, John Grant, was bossing that job. The men were scattered along the banks, shoving the logs away and back into the current. Every once in a while a man would leap from the bank and alight sprawling, his spiked shoes gripping a log. He saw Steve jump. Steve was about five feet one inch in height. He was nearly as broad as he was long, and as strong as a bull. He leaped through the air and caught his log easily between his feet. He rode it, his wild brown eyes alight. Grant's eyes went past him to Twenty-two

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SAINT JOHN ANNUAL val' mm Four Year F liglot OMMANDER GENERAL FACULTY : Well done, my son, well done! A four year 'good will tour, completed-and now, well-earned success is yours. If you'll sit down there and tell me your report I'll be much obliged: Commanding Officer, Class of 33,': Very well sir. September, 1929, at approximately eight o'clock, all hands were reported on board for service. A little later we were aloft, started on our cruise. If you remember, sir, there were four ships in all -ours, because the least important was nicknamed, 'Freshmanf This name, however, did not remain long. For in one year our crew was manoeuvring the ship with such skill that we were officially renamed 'Sophomorel' Soon our acts of valor were noticed by our base com- manders and as a result we were promoted to the rank of 'Juniors' It was during that year that we, as full-fledged upper classmen, with a nonchalant air, steered our ship over uncharted air routes. We landed at Religion, where we were treated most cordially by the Fathers of the Church. After receiving their blessing, we continued on our jour- ney. Scarcely had we taken off when we had to make a forced landing in the land of an ancient people-Latins. One man, whom we later learned was named Cicero, was giving an oration against the conspiracy of Cataline. In spite of the unforeseen landing, we were treated most respectfully by those strange people. Our ship repaired, we were once more on our way. None of our crew will ever forget the delightful ex- perience we had when we were entertained by Sir Roger de Coverly, at his country home in English. No, our journey wasn,t always as easy going as you are led to be- lieve. There were times when all hands were called into action to avert a fatal crash, while flying over the eruptions of Chemistry and again when we had to fly 'blind' through the stormy nights over the ragged coast of Algebra. About this time we sent a scouting expedition of some twenty-six planes to fly east over the 'Commercial Continentf These scouting planes kept in constant contact with the mother ship, and it was 'through this method that we learned of their every move. They made personal visits to King Arithmeticus of Arithmetic, Emperor Spell, of Spelling, Presi- dent Hook-Curvus, of Shorthand, and Premier Keys, of Typing. How- ever, they were not always treated kindlyg for instance, while' in Short- hand, several members of the party crashed, and President Hook-Curvus flatly refused to aid in the reconstruction of the ill-fated ships. As a re- sult of this unkind treatment, the scouting expedition had to go on with- out them. Several days after the scouting party went out, looming on the Horizon, was the island of History, with its shores beckoning to us. Up- on landing, we were thrilled beyond expression to find Christopher Colum- Twenty-four