Venango Christian High School - Saga Yearbook (Oil City, PA)

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short story complete on these two pages SANTA WON’T COME film of the stuff outside. This was especially dangerous in Heatherton’s back yard, for it was on an incline. It was good for the kids though, be- cause they could use it for sled riding. If the snow kept falling, there would be plenty of kids coming over and Petey could watch them. He didn’t go out much. He was a normal child—but an only child. His mother hadn’t re- alized yet that all kids need to romp and play and have friends. She much prefered to have Pete indoors where she could keep an eye on him. It's a funny scarecrow, daddy, it’s arms move. Did you ever see a scarecrow that moves?” No not really,” Mr. Heatherton was absorbed in his paper and coffee. I wonder who tied him to the swing. Guess who he looks like.” Petey, come here and eat your breakfast.” Mr. Heatherton felt that Petey had been absent from the table long enough. I want to watch the scarecrow.” Come here!” I want to watch him.” Santa Clause won’t . . I’m coming, daddy, don’t tell him.” And Petey, there is no scare- crow out there.” Yes there is.” And I suppose there is a pump- kin in your cereal too?” Petey looked at his cereal and up again. There wasn’t even any milk on it. He didn’t really want to eat his cornflakes, but his dad was al- ready angry. He grasp the milk carton with both hands and paused. He was lucky—he didn’t get too much on the table. Look what you did.” I’m sorry daddy.” Petey ate q uickly and went over to the window. The scarecrow’s not moving any more. Maybe he’s tired.” Scarecrows can’t move, they’re not alive.” This one can. He even looks like ' a live person. You know who he looks like?” This was apparently not heard for Mr. Heatherton continued,” Scarecrows can’t move, only people and animals can because they’re alive. Scarecrows aren’t Maybe we have a live scare- crow.” Petey, this is enough nonsense, there is no scarecrow out there. Just like there is no Morgan!’ Mr. Heatherton had always failed to see why Petey made up friends when there were such nice kids in the neighborhood. There is to a Morgan, he’s my friend. He comes and plays with me when I want him to.” There is no scarecrow out - there,” said Mr. Heatherton. He want- ed to stay as far away from the sub- ject of Morgan as he could this morning. He didn’t feel up to it. But he didn’t feel upto much this morning. He added as a second thought. It’s winter. Who would want a scarecrow in the winter?” Maybe the big boys put it out there. The ones who broke the swing.” Don’t be ridiculous. You broke the swing.” The big boys did.” You did!” Well mavbe they didn’t. But...” Petey had one of his father's large hands in his and was pulling him over to the window. If there isn’t a scarecrow. . . Oh my God!” Mr. Heatherton added that last remark softly. It was Crazy Deamer. Mr. Deamer or Crazy” as he was known, had somehow gotten tangled up in the loose chain and was hanging there. See there is to a scarecrow, isn't there?” Shortly the place was crawling with people.

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Written and illustrated! 1 by Theresa Everman ll Little Petey Heatherton walked to the kitchen window and peered out into the back yard. He wanted to see if his dad had fixed his swing yet. There were two swings, but the one on the left, the broken one, was his favorite. Every morning he looked out to see if it had been fixed and every morning he saw the two chains hang- ing down with the seat attached to only one of them. This morning there was something wrong, something new was hanging from one of the chains. ''Daddy, look at the scarecrow.” Mr. Heatherton looked up, a little surprised. He had been expecting Petey to say, You didn’t fix it.” Oh, daddy, come and see it.” See what.” I told you. The scarecrow.” There isn’t any scarecrow out there.” Is too.” Look, Petey, remember the trouble you got into the last time you told me there was something out there.” Mr. Heatherton was undoubtably referring to the time Petey claimed there had been two big boys that broke his swing in the back yard. The swing was broken, all right, but it turned out that Petey did it. But, daddy. . .” Petey, how many times have I told you it’s not nice to tell stories? Good little boys only tell people what is true. If you’re not a good little boy, Santa Clause won’t come.” This cliche always worked around December—and it was December. It was snowing and there was a light

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Alumni Spotlight: The Real Side of College Life EDITOR S NOTE: Daniel Goodman, 65, former editor-in- chief of The Barque and Master Printer of the VCHS Voy- ager Press is now a freshman journalism student at St. Bon- University, Oloan, New York. by Christine Cartwright Danny Goodman is one of those people who likes his privacy and I’m one of those people who don't like to give it to him. So we get along just fine since he's up at St. Bonaven- ture's University in Olean, New York and I'm here writing about him. I'd say he likes college an awful lot, es- pecially the every-other Saturday-nite parties which I'm not supposed to tell anybody about. But Dan says if it wasn't for them a student would crack up from the work. He does a- bout 4 to 5 hours of studying a night and more for tests. He told me if he had high school to do all over again he wouldn't sleep through Spanish and math classes. He's decided Sister Re- gina was right aftei all. they started the new system because, as he put it: I'd be too old for col- lege by the time I got out. To sum it up, when Dan's not working and even when he is, he's having the time of his life, and if you don't count what I can't tell you, it'd be pretty boring. Sally Takes 7' a Illustration by Rosemary Coyne by Marta Savage The fellows up there call him Benny after the more famous Good- man, but around here he was known as old rug. He left a lot of inspi- ration behind him when he left. He inspired me to write about him and he's also inspired more stills than people would care for me to mention. Right, Ted? His schedule is rather crowded with such classes as religion, English lit., Spanish, math and psychology. He has high words of praise for the tnars who teach there. They're really with it, according to him, They're just like big boys. You should see them riding around the campus on their hondas. The college provides free movies every week-end for the students, and tradition holds it that whenever a fav- orable scene comes on the fellows bang the chairs up and down. Tradi- tion can be rather curious, hmm? Dan's glad he graduated before There were three real sharp guys across the street, so I decided to play it real cool and walk by like... so what, ya know? So I'm walkin' and sayin', so what and doin' pretty good until I tripped over this dead dog that was layin on the side walk. Man, after that I just said, Forget it! I wasn't surprised. Whenever I'm tryin' to act real cool I end up actin' like a real coolie. I guess yop ''ould say I don't have any class. Let’s put it this way, I could trip over a linol- eum floor. For example the time I got my first heels. I practiced for three months. By the time I wore them they were worn out. Anyway graduation came and I walked up to get my eight grade diploma. On my way back to my seat I thought, Great no goofs! Well I shoulda'kept my mouth shut because just then I tripped over Mark McGinity's big feet and broke my first and last pair of heels. This ocher time, I walked into the local hang-out with this real neat guy! These girls looked at me like, How do you rate and I looked back like, Some got it and some don't. That was an unfortunate way to look because I just happened to bomb into a waiter who was carrying a bannana split and three tuti fruti sundies. Well, 1 walked out minus a groovy guy, plus a banana split and tnree tuti fruti sundies. It sort of crinkles up your insides to do so many stupid things so many times. Some of my uncoordination has rubbed off on my friends. After going someplace with me they get so nervous, they resort to watching my feet. The time we went roller skating is unforgetable. It was towards the ndofthe dav and I had collided with every person in tne place at least three times. I don't know how, but I didn't see the 350 pound ten year old who darted out in front of me. Pat Skiba pushed me out of the way and the fat kid fell on top of her. That was tragic! 6