Union High School - Reflector Yearbook (Union, ME)

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T HE LEGENDARY BUCK lt was a day we have never forgot, When we saw that Buck in back of jim Scott's. There was you and I with Howard and joe, When we saw those tracks in the fresh fallen snow. We started out right after dawn, With hopes of getting at least a fawn. After following those tracks for an hour, We came across old jim McDower. He was so excited he could hardly talk, But he spoke of the Buck with hair like chalk. We separated then to corner the deer And we all felt the old buck was near. The air was silent but not for long, A shot! then another, came like a song. We had seen the buck with the great set of horns, And we all were assured that the buck was no fawn Gerald Torrey Class of '52 HIGH SCHOOL He stood upon the threshold, His heart was filled with fear, Dreading to step across the line To start his Freshman year. No longer is he timid A year had rolled along, He is a silly Sophomore And life is just a song. Anxious and joyful He could barely wait, Among his junior fellowmen His jolly role to take. And now, how proud and sedate he stands Filled with grand elation, For here it is, long looked for day, Has High School Graduation. Carleen Hanson 'Sl Z0

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The Literary Department THE SPEEDSTER jimmy 'fluniorn Peterson walked slowly and sadly up the walk to his mother's boarding house. It was a sad day for junior. He had just got another ticket for speeding. At the supper table that night junior told his mother. One of the guests, jim Dawson, said You know, I used to just like you junior. I had a good car and took advantage of its speed. One night I was coming home from a dance. I was happy, had had a good time and was racing with a friend. The car went through the guard rail and into a tree. I woke up in the hospital. It was a sad day for O! me. What happened then? asked junior. I died, replied jim. Royce Butler Class of '53. YOUTH We all go to the movies, and give one particular movie star a great build-up. The object of my build-up was Bluster Flight. When I learned the movie, The Great Lover , was to be filmed in Finalhaven and he was in it, I simply had to see this luscious hunk of man. After considerable round-about hinting Iwas able to arrange a boat trip to Finalhaven where I could spend a day gazing at him. It was a beautiful mid-summer day, the main street was littered with wires, sound and camera trucks, and people. The sun was hot and Iwas bored with this procedure. I looked up and down the street carefully to make sure Ihadn't missed my dream man. Suddenly, across the street a barber shop door opened and out came the unmistakable one. My throat got dry and my toes tingled for he was but twenty feet away from me. I just couldn't take my eyes from him. Within a matter of minutes I began to realize he was a very ordinary appearing man. He had on rather untidy fishermen clothes with a blue knit cap. He was flat- footed, round-shouldered, loud-mouthed, swagger-ing, and thoroughly unattractive. About this time I realized that I knew dozens of more attractive boys and men and would from now on attach my interests to real live dolls. My illusions of youth were thus shattered. Sandra Richards 53 19

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Matty woke suddenly, groaned and rolled over to peer out the window beside the bed. He wished ferverently that Marie were there, someone who would meekly accept his midnight raving spasm. He labored in raising himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed where he sat, sweating off the illusions created by his nerves. The whisky bottle from which he was pouring a drink nearly fell from his hand as the kitchen clock struck 12:30. For minutes he silently stared into the drink which he clutched in his quivering hand, pondering his promise to Marie that he would not wet his mouth with liquor while she was away. Presently his will power broke, and he literally threw the straight, hot drink down his throat. He followed with another and another until the bottle was dry. Why, he must have wondered, did he continue to drink like this, when actually he desired more than anything else to put an end to this unspeakable habit. Matty fell back heavily onto the bed where he lay, gazing out the window into a dense fog. His breathing was now heavy, and his eyelids were drawing low. The pattering of the rain, which, before the drinks, would have been shattering to his nerves, was now music to his ears. Presently Matty saw a flash of flame diffused by the fog somewhere upstreet in the direction of the prison. This was followed by a sputtering sound similar to that of a sub- machine gun. He sat upright in bed, straining his eyes to see if it had been a dream. Twice more he saw and heard quite clearly the same flash and sputter, which he now was certain was occuring at the prison. Riverlets of sweat streamed down his face as his confused mind came upon the idea of gunmen and murderers infesting the neighborhood in the dark of the early morning hours. Struggling drunkenly from the bed, Matty staggered blindly through the dark kitchen into the front hall to slip the night lock on the front door into place. He was horrified by his extreme nervous illusions. Returning to the kitchen, he swayed around into the right position to catch a glimpse of a dark shadow slipping past the front windows. 'He stood, petrified, waiting for the sound which soon came. A sharp rapping at the front door broke the stillness of the house. This was followed by a louder slamming of feet and fists upon its oak-wood panels. The only person that this early caller could possibly be in Matty's clouded mind was a convict from the prison break which he was certain had occurred. The knocking on the front door had stopped, and Matty, in spite of his confused mind, thought of the unbolted back porch door. While making haste to reach the back door, Matty collided with an easy chair in the living room and fell sprawling on the carpet. As he lay there panting, in an effort to regain Z1