Stern College for Women - Kochaviah Yearbook (New York, NY)

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♦ o z o o ► $ o i ► o o s o ► i ► An alarniins first-person experience TERROR! TERROR By ROZ BERKOWITZ Hartford, Conn. I shall never forget that day as long a- I live! It was July 6, 1944. The sun was shining brightly, reflecting the glee of anticipation within me. I was going to the circus. It was not to be an or- dinary, small-town affair that one sees in pictures, but one with a big top, hun- dreds of huge animals and large grand- -tands. I. a youngster of six years, accompanied by my mother, was on my way to sec the celebrated Barnum and Bailey Circus. I recall my thoughts as we entered the huge tent. How anxious I was to see that circus! Later would come the joy of relating the episode to my friends. Little did I know of the crisis soon to occur. Today, my recollections of the elab- orate opening of the e ent are hazy. However, from the conclusion oi the trapeze artist ' s act to the termination t that never-to-be-forgotten day, my mem- ories arc extremely vivid. Entranced in the glamorous world of circus life, my thoughts were shifted to reality by a tremendous flash of light followed by a loud crackling of fire. And then the nightmare began! Yes, this was the shocking Circus Fire of ' 44 about which many people, tucked securely in their homes, read. Although they felt that they knew of the horror which ac- companied the injuries and loss of life, only the figures in this real drama of human slaughter could possibly conceive the pain and horror, anxiety and despair which accompanied this tragedy. Terror! Terror! Terror! People throwing children into waiting arms, chairs tumbling down through the grand- stands, shouts, screams, cries, animals prancing madly in their cages, people racing, falling, pulling, pushing, drag- ging, crawling, crying — these things drew me further into my world of fright a« I groped toward safety, half running and stumbling, the rush and roar of the o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o % o o o o % % % o %

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► ► z o z ► ► z ► z ► o ► ► ► o o o o o o o o o I o (pinnuL On, 9%. Jvi i. (DaisL His parents and mine were friends for man} ' years, and they often discussed our first date long before it happened. We lived in the same apartment house. Neighbors, too, seemed to have a curious interest in the happenings of the day. It would be safe to say that almost every- one in the building was concerned with my debut. It was one of those beautiful spring days that nature brings forth to blot out the memory of the long, bleak winter. Birds were nesting. Barren trees and early vines virtually pushed out delicate green buds to greet the warm sun. Ro- mance filled the air. This was the setting for my first date. The importance of the occasion created an aura of excitement in our household. Mother seemed especially happy. She helped with my bath and dusted powder in just the right places. My dress and accessories matched perfectly, and to complete the ensemble, I wore some very effective pins. First impressions are so lasting. Mama was anxious that I look just right, and judging from the coin- By ROBERTA REISS New Rochelle, N. Y. ments as we left the building, I knew that this had been accomplished. He was already there. It was obvious that much attention had been given to his clothes and appearance. He was a picture of elegance. Then our chaperones brought us together as though to effect an introduction. We were then left alone — awkwardly staring at each other. After some very trying, speechless mo- ments, a conversation followed that is hardly worth recording. Anyone over- hearing us would have labeled it pure nonsense. Frankly, the details of what followed next are not clear, but I do know that I was rapidly losing interest in my new friend. Perhaps it was the vast difference in our ages — he was three times as old as I. My young man was most persistent and did not give up easily. He smiled coyly and tried a new line of chatter to hold my attention. But it was all in vain. I yawned delicately and fell fast asleep in my new beribboned carriage — forgiveable conduct for a lass just three weeks old on her first day out. % o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o % o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦ ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦ ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

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► ► ► ► lire following close behind. I made it! Out in the panic-stricken crowd, away X from r K e danger of death, my fears began to mount. Where was my mother? I can only remember running frantically about searching for the person whose presence meant so much to me. Nowhere in the tumult could I find her. It seemed a,i though there were thousands of peo- ple included in this turmoil of fire- engines and ambulances filled with in- jured people. At this point the effects of shock seized me and I lost consciousness. o o ► ► o o ► o o o o ► o ► o ► ► ► ► ► o o ► ► ► o ► ► t I was taken by two strangers to a drugstore. They found my phone number in my wallet and phoned my father. I presume that he came to the des ignated meeting place immediately, for my next fleeting recollection is that of my father and I searching desperately for my mother. Finally she was found, badly hurt, and was rushed to the hospital. Al- though she had been suffering from third degree burns, she had continued her quest for me. Her survival was a greater miracle than mine. After telling me exactly how to reach safety, she had been caught in the grandstands between falling chairs. However, she managed to escape just as the tent collapsed. It was not the actual flames that had scalded her, but the heat of the fire. After many weeks of hospitalization, and many more months of slow convales- cence, my mother gradually recovered. My own recovery was not complete until months later. In the interminable darkness of my dreams, even now, I often awake afraid, fearful, horrified, crying: The terror! The terror! o o o ► ► $ ► ► ► ► ► o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o 4 o o o o o o o o o o THE CREATION By MIRIAM SAFRAN Israel It was spring in the air. It was spring in my heart. The sun was shining brightly in the sky and scattered its golden rays all over the earth, stroking gently every flower, every plant, every bird and every living creature. Quietness, calmness and mildness ruled the area. T he sun was shining in my heart, filling me with a happiness never known to me before and lifting my soul to new heights. It gave me the feeling of floating on clouds. The fascinating sound of a stream running nearby, the charming chant of a bird, the sound of a light breeze cutting through the leaves, the echo of a faraway sound of working farmers — all turned into one harmonious and wonderful melody that touched the inner chords of my heart and made it join the choir of a whole world chanting a mystical melody to its Creator. That very moment it seemed to me that I was attending the Creation of a new world, a purified world unknown to me before, a world over which peace and calmness rule. Suddenly a terrifying noise cut through the quietness. The sun disappeared and everything crashed and turned upside down. The terrible noise cut into me like hot iron and I felt as if I were falling down quickly from a tremendous height until I knocked against something hard . . . I opened my eyes just in time to send a quick, bewildered look toward the open window and to see a huge airplane pass by with a terrifying noise that brought me down from the paradise of peace I had so thoroughly enjoyed; it took me away from that paradise of peace to bring me into a world where monsters of iron rule.