St Marys Academy - Chimes Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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Rah IN MANY OF OUR present day sports, the color that accompanies the activity has come to be almost as important as the game itself. On the football field the school band and cheerleaders add to the support of the players, while on the basketball court the morale boosting rests solely in the hands of the cheerleader. Let me tell you some of the trials and triumphs that become the lot of a cheerleader. To start with, the cheerleader must be chosen. Since you are interested you begin to review the actions and the cheers in your mind until you finally put them into practice. You can hardly wait for the great day of the selection and when it arrives, you usually nnd yourself the sole com- petitor. Yes, you and you alone are there to repre- sent your class. Oh, well, you say, I made it, so what am I complaining about? Once chosen, the tedious job of urging your classmates to bring in cheers falls on your shoulders. At every opportunity the students can no doubt hear a voice raised above the others, Girls, did you bring in any cheers? If they could read the ah .V NANCY O,CONNOR, '51 questioner's mind, the thought could be seen, Oh well, I'll try again. Third in the line of supporting a team is mak- ing actions to the new cheers and going over the old stand-bys. On the day after the first practice the local drug stores do a booming busi- ness on rubbing alcohol. Strange, how easy it is to find new muscles. Finally the day of the first game arrives. You are starched and ironed within an inch of your life and are anxious to get out on the floor and show that you have been practicing. Then sud- denly, you stand and face the girls for the first time and the strangest feeling comes over you. You break out in goose bumps, your mind goes blank, your heart thumps like a drum, and your knees knock to such an extent that 'you feel you will never be able to walk again. But gradually that conglomerate mass of faces before you stops whirl- ing. You recognize your friends. Almost incred- ibly you hear your own voice announcing: Razzle dazzle sizzle zip-. The cheering squad is in action! THE 0LD BROWN MILL IT WAS EARLY SUMMER and we were riding through Lancaster County, Pennsylvania when I saw the old mill. It was weatherbeaten and worm-rotted to a sort of brownish gray. Its design was in the best Dutch tradition. Its long, brown, bare arms creaked com- plainingly as the gentle wind moved them. The mill was obviously kept only as a relic of the old days, for the clean, white house with green shut- ters belied the fact that a thing so old would still be used on that farm. Besides, there was a newer type of windmill up near the house. The scene was quiet and impressive, for it reminded one strongly of Holland, and the sun just rising gave the scene a picturesque touch. Situated on the bank of a clear, swift stream, the mill cast a long, queer-shaped shadow over the rippling water and shaded much of the bank. MARY Louise RITCHOTTE, '51 Down by the creek, kneeling in the shadow of the mill, were some women taking advantage of the cool, early morning to get their washing done. Dressed in the plain, gray dresses and white bon- nets of their sect, those Amish women had prob- ably never heard of a washing machine. They were doing the wash in the same manner as their grandmothers had done before them. Behind his mother, a boy stood watching the water and listening to her as she assigned him his chores. Probably he was wishing with all his heart that he could be fishing on this fine morning. The lad was barefoot, dressed in the Amish style of knickers and shirt, with his hair cut short. The farm itself was large and prosperous and the fields beyond the house were abundant with various crops. Fat cows contentedly chewed cuds in the shade of nearby trees.

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Jane and Pat: How about that all-important section of a paper, the Editorial, Mr. Slocum? Mr. Slocum: Every morning about ten o'clock a staff of ten men gathers in the conference room to consider world affairs and they decide what needs to be written about. They adjourn about 11:00 and each goes to his office and begins to write his opinion on the topic he has selected. This must be completed by three o'clock so that it may bet set up in print. Since the editorial is the writer's personal opinion, it need not be inspected by editors, assistant editors, etc. The material of other staff departments goes through extensive correct- ing and afterwards is sent to the printers or returned for a rewrite. Remember even experienced news columnists can make mistakes. jane and Pat: Do women hold important jobs on the paper? Mr. Slocum: Several women hold rather impor- tant offices. Most of them write columns. The editor of the woman's page is, of course, a woman. As you know, they write articles on fashions, foods and woman celebrities. Dorothy Dix is very familiar to all of you. The Bulletin also has sev- eral women critics. Most of the work on the women's page can be printed several days before- hand. jane and Pat: Does the Bulletin have any cer- tain system for answering its fan mail? Mr. Slocum: Well, about the only thing I can say to this is that the mail truck arrives every morning with stacks of mail. This is then sorted into different departments, e.g., questions on fashion go to the fashion editor. If there is mail for me, my secretary sorts it into the personal and impersonal-so you see the secretary again comes in very handy. If the mail is miscellaneous, we have a special department with files on just about everything and it is this section's work to respond with the brilliant answer the reader wants. In this way everyone is satisfied and we receive few letters of complaint. Jane and Pat: The Evening Bulletin has several competitors in Philadelphia. What do you think about this situation? Mr. Slocum: Personally, I consider it a good thing to have several papers published in a big city like Philadelphia. There is nothing to keep one on his toes like good competition. A paper 4 1 with several competitors will not turn out poorly constructed material. Of course, the Bulletin never does this, but I will be glad to see the day when we again have several evening papers in this city. jane and Pat: In your opinion, will there be several more papers in this City of Brotherly Love ? Mr. Slocum: Until the price of the necessary machinery comes down considerably there will be no more newspapers. A good printing press costs millions of dollars and it seems no one has that kind of money. There have been certain experi- ments by chemists, recently, which promise to do away with printing presses altogether and thus reduce the price to one-tenth of the original cost. When that becomes a reality, people will be more interested in sinking their funds into newspapers. jane and Pat: What do you consider the essen- tial qualities of a good newspaper? Mr. Slocum: The first requirement for a good publication is that it possesses complete objectiv- ity. It must report the news in a detached, almost disinterested manner. The reason that so many other papers have failed is that they have taken sides in issues, usually political. The Bulletin is a neutral newspaper and that is one reason it has survived where other papers have failed. Some publishers take a very active part in politics and even get themselves elected to legislatures. While I am not condemning this practice, I am stating that the Bulletin staff does not seek ofhce. Another important quality of a newspaper is integrity. A publication must deal honestly with the people, and not try to trick them with any dirty dealings. No one is fooled by dishonesty except the one who is dishonest. We completed arrangements for our senior tour, gathered together our belongings, heartily thanked Mr. Slocum, who had taken so much of his precious time for this interview and who had responded to our questions so warmly and com- pletely, and boarded the C bus for home. We chattered over every word he had spoken and discovered that with all of our remarks combined we had a store of knowledge that would interest each one of you. Now that you have read Mr. Slocum's keen replies, we feel sure that you'll understand why- In Philadelphia Nearly Every- body Reads the Bulletin.

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But the thing that stands out most in my mem- anyone mentions the Amish or Lancaster County, ory is the old brown mill, and nowadays when my mind always reverts to that scene. MISTAKEN IDENTITY HELENE WALKED SLOWLY up the narrow gravel path toward Saint Rita's High on that fateful day upon which, she felt, her next four years depended. She was to be a Freshman and Helene hoped that she would make a good impres- sion on her classmates when she met them for the first time. Helene, a very pretty girl with a rosy com- plexion topped off by golden hair, had but one defect--a slight scar over her right eyebrow. A slight shyness did not prevent her from getting along well with everybody. Helene had many friends back in St. Louis from which she had moved two weeks ago. These, however, did not ease the loneliness she felt in this strange new city. As she drew nearer to the gray stone building, she could hear the chatting and laughing of the girls who were gathered in groups on the campus. Hi, my name's Carrie. What's yours? She turned around and saw a girl of her own age with curly black hair and twinkling brown eyes, smiling at her. I'm Helene Morris. Are you a freshman, too? she asked. That's right, and we might as well get acquainted now, answered Carrie. I don't remember you from grammar school. No, l just moved here from St. Louis two weeks ago. Well, in that case, how about letting me show you the sights this week? said Carrie. Carrie introduced Helene to some of her friends 'and by the end of the week she was popular among all of the girls except one, julia Gordon. Julia jealously thought that Helene Morris was much too pretty and popular and intended to do something about it. For two weeks everything was wonderful for Helene. But, one day when she came to school, she was ignored by most of her newly-made friends. Although she hadn't seen Carrie yet that day, she knew that when she did, Carrie, at least, wouldn't ignore her. A few days later she saw her in the corridor. Carrie asked Helene to meet her outside at three o'clock. CLAIRE KNAPP, '5 3 To Helene the hands of the clock seemed to take a Century to travel around. Finally, the bell rang, and at three o'clock she stood waiting for Carrie at the bottom of the steps. I've come to explain, Helene, said Carrie. You mean about everyone's ignoring me? asked Helene. At that Carrie thrust her hand into her pocket and pulled out a clipping from a newspaper. julia Gordon brought this in and showed it to a few of the girls. I took it from her before she could show it to anyone else but, 1 supose, news travels. It didn't bother the girls but when their mothers heard it they told them to stay away from you. We didn't believe it was your father, but then you must admit it seems strange, since you moved here from St. Louis with your mother. You can see that all evidence points to him and, well, here, read this, said Carrie. Helene took the clipping and read: Henry Morris Found Guilty of the Murder- of john Partley. She didn't wait to read the rest but immediately invited Carrie to dinner. The invitation puzzled Carrie, nevertheless, she accepted it. When dinner was over, Helene took Carrie up to her room. She opened a drawer, took out a box and looked through the many papers that were in it. Finally, she picked out one and handed it to Carrie. This was also a news clipping but it was ten years old. After reading it, Carrie dropped the clipping and, as she threw her arms about Helene, a tear trickled down her cheek. Can you ever forgive us, Helene Of course, I can, said Helene, and as she said it her eyes fell on the piece of paper and the well-known words glared up at her. an Henry Morris was fatally burned yesterday while saving his four-year-old daughter, Helene, from a raging fre in their laome. Helene escaped wills minor burn: and a :harp cut over ber right eye.