Viscount Bennett Junior High School - Terminal Yearbook (Calgary, Alberta Canada)

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Page 92 THE TERMINAL many others followed. The flowers which covered the mountain sides in immense I numbers awoke and unfolded; their blossoms giving beauty which only poets can describe. As I climbed higher over ancient rock where only sparse vegetation met my eye I felt a sudden expectation creeping over me. My watchful glance covered every stone, followed every cleft of weathered rock in search of the one, most noble sight: mountaingoats. Driven into the highest, most rugged parts of the Alps by ruthless hunters, the mountaingoats and sheep had become scarce and it was considered very lucky for a climber to see these shy, agile creatures of the mountains dance gracefully along high, narrow mountain rims. ' I lay on a sunbathed rock and waited hopefully for just such a sight. I must have fallen asleep, and how long I thus lay dreaming there I do not know. Suddenly frighten¬ ed out of happy thoughts, I awoke to wonder where I was. What I the n looked upon gave me great joy. Not far from me were five, slender, grey-figured mountaingoats who, surprised by my sudden move, stood like lifeless statues, cast in bronze. A rolling stone - five fleeing shadows, and they were gone. I sat quietly - my .camera, unmoved, within easy reach. Great emptiness in my belly then I felt. A sudden, roaring noise like that of thunder echoed loudly from the rocky x alls. I glanced up frightened - but all was still. Some giant rock had tumbled from unmeasured height. My heart was full of wonder as I stood up to walk home and further enjoy the silent splendor. Wilfred Wenzel, 10-27 HONORABLE MENTION THE LEAD BEAT This is the school, Viscount Bennett. I work here, I’m a pencil. I’m HB and my partner ' s H2. It was 2:1:9 p.m., Friday the thirteenth. We were working the day watch out of Theft Division; everything was quiet, until. . . Ring-g-g. I told H2 I ' d get it; and, as I lifted the phone, I heard a woman ' s exasperating story. Apparently her little boy had been kidnapped. I took the address and told her we ' d be right over. We arrived at the scene and found the binder a mess. H2 poked me with his eraser and said, Looks like there ' s been a struggle. I agreed, and then we patiently listened to the weeping mother ' s story. It seemed that North Rite, her little boy, had been left on the desk top while Paper Mate made supper. When she came back, he was gone. We checked out all the leads and then returned to the scene of the crime to see if the lab-boys had overlooked anything. Sure enough, we found that the point of poor little North Rite had been broken and he was leaving a faint trail of red ink. We followed this trail through Literature class and up the stairs into Social. Here we stopped for a spare. We questioned the teacher and he told us that North Rite had been used to mark his register. We thanked him for his information and resumed the chase. We were fighting time now as the bell was about to ring and we would then be out of action for two days. The trail led us through Science, English and then into Math. As we entered, we scanned the place and finally located the boys in the back room playing poker with propositions 1 to 13. Up front the entertainment was in full swing where two beautiful dolls were singing the ABCs of Algebra without music. We began to search the place from end to end but with little hope. Then, suddenly, as we were

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THE TERMINAL Page 91 FIRST PRIZE S S A Y FLYING SAUCERS ? One of the greatest controversies of our day concerns the existence of flying saucers or Unidentified Flying Objects. These objects have been sighted by observers all over the world. Mrr.y people believe that these Unidentified Flying Objects (U.F.O. ' s) are in reality space ships manned by creatures from another world. They believe that no earth man today has the technical knowledge required to build such a craft. Other people believe that U.F.O.s are nothing more than common weather balloons, reflections, clouds, stars, meteorites or hallucinations. Still others place the U.F.O.s in the category of the Loch Ness Monster, the unicorn, sea serpent and. Abominable Snowman. -. Who are we to say what these mysterious ' : - - things are? It seems unlikely that they are y ' ' • — ' manned by creatures from another world, for j t there appears to be little chance that there is another planet which possesses the exact conditions necessary for life. If life does exist, is it likely that the life would be so much more advanced than ours? It is impossible to say one way or the other. Then, who, for example, has ever heard of these; weather balloons travelling against the wind at high speeds, a reflection where there is no glass, a cloud emitting an orange flashT ing light, stars moving rapidly about, making intricate turns, meteors falling like a leaf, stopping and zooming back upwards, or hallucinations being picked up on radar and chased by jet interceptors? Such explanations have been given to account for some of the U.F.Os. sighted. There have been so many sightings by reputable people that it is a little hard to place the V.F.O.s in the mythological category, y—These U.F.O.s, if real, must be present in J our skies at all times. It is significant that I ' with the coming of the Sputniks, there has been J 3 great increase in the number of U.F.O. f sightings due to more people watching the heavens. Nobody can say for sure -what they are, but there is something in our skies. SECOND PRIZE Gretchen Meade, 10-1:3 AUTUMN MORNING The mist of early hour still hid the rising day when I, with camera and lunch, set out for great adventure. The murmur of a small only sound that broke the and left stretched, high abov. peaks of th : Bavarian Alps, mist began to rise, a sun ' s formed to glittering diamonds- gathered on the leaves. A OiJ- mountain stream was the empty silence. To my right ... all earthly dwellings, the • P -a Here and there, where the . --iy ( . ) T ray hit the grass and trans- ‘ the tiny droplets which had bird boan to sing. Soon

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| THE TER MINAL... . .. . ... ...... Page. 93 . about to leave, I felt and saw a neat red splash on my lead shoes. I poked H2 and looked up to the origin of the drip. Well, we couldn’t believe our eyes. There, hanging fro ' m the ceiling was Worth Rite. We got some help and rescued him. He immediately told us that yardstick of the meter side was our man. We arrested him and got a full confession. He was sentenced to two days in the wastepaper basket. We closed the case and turned in for the night. Donna Tildes ley,- 10--U3 j HONORABLE MENTION JOHNNY The most unforgettable charrcter I have ever met was a friend of my child¬ hood days, a boy named Johnny. This young fellow was one of the happiest, most alive people you could ever hope to meet. Not only was Johnny happy, he was not content unless those around him | were also happy. And he went out of his way to bring a smile to the lips of everyone he met. Johnny had several ways of doing this, but the most effective was to smile cheerfully and say, Hello, isn’t is a lovely day? Many times this brought a tear to the eye, as well as a smile to the lips. Courage was another one of his characteristics. This boy seemed to have no ! end of it. Those that knew him, will long remember the courage he displayed the day he) saved his young cousin from drowning. Here was a remarkable feat, indeed, - for Johnny was blind and crippled. How did he do it? Well, to explain it in his own words: It was simple. I just wheeled my chair far enough into the stream for her to grab it. He had been left alone with the children; and when one of their lives | had been endangered, Johnny, without thought of personal safety, had rescued her. Many of us wondered where his courage and stamina came from. I think its root was in the fact that Johnny was going to die. The horrible disease that had robbed him of his vision and the pleasure of physical exercise was going to cause his death. Ajid Johnny did die. Early one spring morning he spoke a few last words to his mother and passed quietly away. We were all deeply saddened by his death. But, somehow, just the fact that we had known him seemed to ease the pain.. For Johnny, though he’d, been with us only a short time, had set an example for all of us. I know that whenever I am ! faced with difficulty or danger I will remember Johnny and the obstacle will disappear. Yes, he left us a great heritage. I i Margaret Carruthers, 10-21+ I HONORABLE MENTION I ESSENTIAL PENCIL Howdy, folksl Mah name is Slim. Slim Pencil. Ah’m the roughest, toughest critter west o’ the Alamo. Mah boss is always gettin ' in my hair, and I get in his. I Mah brand is H , the lightest type o’ mark made. Ah was just ridin’ out on the range, writin ' what they call an essay , and boy, am ah tiredl Sometimes ah have other owners, and they really rough me up, but ol’ Slim can take it. They lick me, an’ bite me, an ' chew up mah eraser. (Only the very special pencils have erasers, and ah don’t like mine bein ' ruffled). Some of those rich ’uns have chrome-plated detachable erasers, but mah owner cain’t afford it. Ah ' m o ' the best o ' quality; mah type dates ' way back to ; the stone age. (Well, practicallyl) Ah have a very nice figure, not like some o’ those pore octagonal and triangular critters ah know. Some o ' mah friends have