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

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THE TERMINAL LITERARY 1st Prize. SONNET jWe are like pebbles, dropped into a pond, iTo splash, make tiny ripples as we sink :Into the dreaming depths, our every link With life dissolved, we plumb the vast beyond. ‘There is no lightless bottom, thick with slime, ;Of ages, where the sunken spirits rest. Or countless strata of the damned and blessed. The pool is.floorless, shoreless, timeless time. ;For passing years and seconds are the same jin number coming, and therefore in size Without reference point which is the end iOf struggles in short life for love and fame Or breaking of the silence with the cries ;0f fierce, proud peoples, forced to bend. JOHN OWER (12 - 29) 12nd Prize. A student you ask? I am, But studious - no, not I And the small card I hold Will prove that. On it was placed, with ;Noh-disputable correctness ;Many markings not uncommon [To other,, similar leaflets, But discouraging to me. First is seen a D which If compared to my country iMeans not, what it means to iOne such as I. •To me it means dull, but Let me compare this card jOr rather transfer it to The boy.Canada D on his card could mean :Denied. Denied the right of way In nations of the world disputes. Denied the voice a country .I Should have . . . especially one his size. C would mean, on this report, jCalloused. Farm work, Lumbering : And all the other manual tasks :Performed within his boundaries. Calloused hands and calloused hearts, : But with the callouses went Experience he ' ll use in later years, jNext a B for beginning which Is all he is doing now Beginning, but what? . . a country ;Strong and safe or ..... . SECTION .PAGE 88 Perhaps his other marks will direct His footsteps in a path. Following now two A ' s ' ' the best so far. One for ability, which he hopes he has And the other for aggressiveness, which Indeed he has for the advancement of His large, learning land. One left oh the card, an H For honour which follows from all the rest And all the others not touched upon. Denial , Calloused, Beginning, Ability, Aggressiveness, and Honour. Each of the people in this Country has a task. As I accept the card back I know mine As a student. I must By aggressiveness and using ’My ability, regardless of hard callouses, Make a beginning at defeating the denial And bringing honour to my country. That is my job.What ' s yours? PHILIP EADIE (11 - 2?) 3rd Prize. THE ST. LAWRENCE I am the St. Lawrence River. People say I am proud, serene and majestic. I was born with Canada, And I am part o f this great land. I have watched Canada grow along my banks From the Atlantic to the Great Lakes. I saw Cartier and Champlain Explore and establish Canada ' s first settlement. I watched as Louis Hebert first tilled The virgin soil. Then more French boats sailed Upstream through my waters, Carrying settlers to colonize The New Land. The French built Quebec With her proud citadel on my cliffs. Then I saw English sails on my waves. One night I watched silently as Wolfe ' s men Scaled my cliffs at Quebec, and fought On the Plains of Abraham. I saw Montreal, Quebec, Trois Rivieres, and other settlements Grow into large cities. Factories were built on my banks and bridges spanned my breast. Large boats carrying wheat, iron and many other products, sailed downstream From Duluth, Superior, Port Arthur, Fort William.

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THE TERMINAL LITERARY SECTION PAGE 89 JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL - POETRY SECTION. FIRST PRIZE. LONELINESS In a dark desolate alley A small child, lost, A lone sparrow, left To endure winter in solitude. A marathon swimmer, striving In the bleak, dark water. One lone flag pole, left To stand guard in the midst Of a sleeping village. A desolate plain, untouched By human nature. Fresh snow with only Animal tracks to show Life still exists. A huge ocean liner, Merely a tiny speck On the dark, vast waters., A foreigner, standing alone And repelled by native people Unable to speak and commute. All this, and on to infinity: Loneliness! WENDY LAW (9 - 16) SECOND PRIZE., . | Collapsed on the floor with one leg on , a chair i Sprawls a real cool cat with bleach blonde hair, : Clinging to her shoulder a telephone receiver Chatters on and on like an eager beaver, The disc-twirler ' s booming with a real gone beat, ! On the T.V. set ' s a Western - real neat! : What is she doing? you may ask ; Why, she ' s working hard at an arduous task, | Busy at a duty she cannot shirk, i She is loyally engrossed in her homework! THIRD PRIZE. NIGHT Drowning the last of daylight Darkness creeps over the mountain; Dimming the sun in final fight It spills upon us like a fountain. H y Except for the wandering moon.. Surrounded by twinkling stars, The lights in the homes had vanished soon In this city of countless cars ' . In deep slumber the earth flow lies All sound has left the air; Filled with enchanting dreams time flies While I its wonders share. Drowning the last of darkness Daylight creeps over the mountain Swallowing the moon with its golden brightness It spills upon us like a fountain. HELGARD WENZEL (9-1) LAURIE FINKLEMAN (9 - 16)

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THE TERMINAL LITERARY SECTION PAGE 89 ;THE ST. LAWRENCE (Continued) On the Great Lakes ' , to the mighty Atlantic. iNow, men are changing my face; They have built dams, canals, locks, power lines. I don ' t mind. :Now I provide more electricity, And larger boats can sail through my waters. I am watching man ' s progress and Canada ' s progress. ‘I am the St. Lawrence River. People say I am proud, serene and majestic. ABIE OKAZAKI (11 - 2?) SHORT STORY - TERMINAL CONTEST 1st Prize. FEAR DOES STRANGE THINGS I honestly didn ' t do it, I didn ' t. You believe me, don ' t you, Father? The solemn figure in the drab black suit looked up from his prayers at the young man of nineteen, who so earnestly sought an ; answer. It is not for me to judge whether you did it or not, my son, I ' m only here to ;witness your last words before God. Yeah, I guess so, said Tom Standish, returning from the barred window to his cot :to sit facing the priest. I guess every¬ one is too busy with his own affairs to bother with me. Father Dix went back to his Bible but was somehow unable to concentrate on the text in front of him. Finally his eyes :again sought those of the condemned man. Is there anything I can do to ease your mind? Perhaps you ' d like a confession or maybe ;you ' d like to know what it feels like to iknow that in a few hours you ' ll be in the ‘gas chamber! Father, I didn ' t kill that little girl. I love kids. I couldn ' t kill ' anyone, let alone a defenceless baby. Unable to continue, because of the sobs that choked him, Tom lay face-down on the cot and ;cried like the baby the court said he had murdered. You probably think I ' m nuts - - crying and choking, said Tom as he sat up again ;and faced the window, speaking as if no ; one were there to hear him. Well, there ' s : two things can make a man cry - - fear and death. I ' ve got both reasons; I ' m scared - real scared and I will face death very soon.: § After another hour with the condemned, Father Dix left the cell, passing the warden and attendants who would escort the prisoner to the fatal chamber, as he made his way to the exit through the visitor ' s room. Father. He turned as he opened the door to face the mother of the little girl, whose murder was even now about to be avenged. Yes, my dear? he asked. I done a terrible thing, Father, and I wanna confess to you and to my God. What did you do? gasped Father Dix, closing the door and staring at her in¬ credulously. I-I-I killed my baby, she blurted suddenly and the release of that heavy burden allowed her to break into sobs as she fell at the old priest ' s feet. I let that young boy take the- blame b-because I was so afraid, she continued, gaging into the stony face of the man- of God, pleading for forgiveness with her eyes. It was an accident - - I didn ' t mean it. Suddenly regaining his senses, the priest tore himself from her grasp and ran back into the prison, hearing her cries of - Come back Father - - Help me, as he raced : at top speed to the gas chamber. The guards at first refused him entry but seeing his white-collar and hearing his panted New Evidence , they hastily opened ' the heavy door. Stumbling blindly past the five rows of astonished witnesses he reached the window which allowed people to view the death scene and clutched the warden ' s sleeve. Seeing things in focus for the first time; in the last few hurried minutes he beheld with horror the agony on Tom ' s face as the Deadly clouds of gaseous vapour rose lazily from beneath his chair and slowly, invisibly, envelopped his imprisoned body. PHILIP EADIE (11 - 27)