West Rutland High School - Green and Gold Yearbook (West Rutland, VT)

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'7 hereby took my pen and wrote. fBy the way, it was easier said than donel. I kent remindineg myself that great writers saw no dignity in work that involved unnecessary drudgery therefore it was necessary for me to stop bickering. I once read that fools in their blunderinn way, have traveled quite a distance and made unusual progress--so as of now-HI am beginnixlg to feel rather foolish. CI hone it clicks in my Cfigc' 0 Feverishly and energetically, I plunged into setting up dots and curves, these in turn made un phrases, and conse- quently the ohrases were supposed tc make up my essay. More and more I realized that time hung on too thin a thread. Protected by the assurance that I had something done, I disregarded all hreebly indifference and worked and strug- gled on. I war comfirted hy the idea that I would meet the morrow unfraid and unaehsmed. I wrote violently, and suf?ered quietly. Sweet drizzled down my forehead in tor- rents and the nelnitstion of my heart quicxened. Thus I continued until to my amazement end utter exhaustion, I rea- lized that the long awaited completion was in sight. Nature was careful to give everyone of us enough conceit to like ourselves just a bit more than anyone else, but now, I actually loved myself. I didn't know whether to cry out of exultation, swoon, or just merely collapse. Since every man makes his own estimate, I now feel as if I was walking with a brake under my right foot and a clutch under my left. There is only one thing that I fear. I am due for a great crash with my dear friendfthe instruc- tonuwho will cheerfully confront me with my essay beautiful- ly adorned with n rejection slip. Dear Lord!---Make him have mercy on mel! Paulie Orzech This yearbook was digitized by volunteers from the

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xiao ble and readable material.--Oh! yes class, the minimum re- quirement is fifteen hundred tordsf' nhonestly, without exaggeration, I was revived by a buzzing sound in my ears. You're right, the ever-welcomed bell. Right now I felt as though I had experienced the atom blast or Ito be most exact an upheaval by the hydrogen bomb. that .:.l'ltO then aken self ami I am sure I will he the victor- this time as weiii. I once heard---When you get an ailment you have never heard of before and begin talking about it, you find that every third person has had it oerronnlly and that every second person has a relative who is a viotin riyht new ---- well, as of this moment I have discovered that I nm suffering from the syno- tons of nsonior ersafitisu. However, this illness is somo- ttinj that can We controlled, for I ail somewhat in orooor-- tion to convenience. I am nomoelled to hclieve that the fever of this sickness reaches its peak during classroom hours because I find it simoly imrossible to follow any line of reasonins during that time. During my deoression, I took solace in the thought if circumstances compelled it, I might bc :ble to delve some strange sickness and fake a connlete mental lapse, I certainly would be in no position to fulfill this fors assignment. CI won every argument I evcr had with my However, all was icing too well. Just os soon as I make a good resolution, I get into a situition which makes its observance imnoosible. 13 cow, I am so distorted that I would cheerfully trade my life for any other. Swnmped and roloxcu, my brain refused to fulfill its duty. I felt beaten and didnft core what would become of ne, so long as rould he a chancf for the better. As one can see, I have ied all sorts of ways to get out of this chamber of pe it tr tortures---but the seneral conclusion is, that the more time I give Lqself, the less acconolished. New this Hhctter of life and deathu made it necessary for me to clcer my 'mind of airv nonsense and to out my intellectual digestions into ooeration. Hornioq, noon, and night essay tooics marched in and out of my thinking fuctory. I ate, slect, and drank essay topics. I even ntalkedlessay tonics, but the results were nnthetically ineffective. This monstsrous essay had me beaten. It seemed to be like an organism with e blood stream and a brain of its own, fithtinf my every effort. Time marched on, panic and frets began to seize my intellect March thirtieth was exactly twenty four hours away. My shallow brain still labored without a stimulant. It has taken thc better cart of a lifetime for me to reach the sed conclusion that my cynicism and laziness was certainlv a folly, but they say follies into every business--and they certainly edged and nicely squeezed then- selves into my affairs. Put to admit that I have suffered great siseries ss a result of thi: Htrivial matterd would be to belittle one's own choice and to suffer personal humilistinn. Therefore I boldly rose to face the issue. I Rutland Historical Society and the Rutland Free Library. D

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W WHAT A GLORIOUS DAY! It was on this beautiful, serene August morn, c I and bright, that my cousin Marion and I decided to take a bicycle ride. The birds were chirping merrily, while the cool soft breeze was winging its way through the treetops to place the temperature at a comfortable TOO. More than once, Marion and I have fancied a Hrealu bicycle trip. Our desti- nation was not settled upon, but we began our preparation with fine spirits. On this particular trip, energy was the factor that would keep us going, So with intense excitement, we prepared our lunch--hot dogs, marshmallows, etc. We outfitted ourselves in cool cotton jerseys and slacks. Our mothers made sure we took sweaters in case there was a sudden change in the weather or the breeze would become a little too frisky. Well, now we were all set for the adventure. It was exactly 10:30 a.m. The bicycles were all re-checked ito insure us of their reliable service. For the first hour the road was familiar--yes, even the bumps. We traveled for about ten miles along the shady country road. Great joy serged through us as we sped upon new roads surrounded by slopes, meadows, and farmhouses. As we rode along, we approached a sign--Road Construction - 7 miles. Now this mileage is a long way considering that the trip was on bicycles. Nevertheless, with our carefree spirits, we con- sidered an obstacle of such a nature a pert of this adventure. Bumpety-bump for four miles! Then--oh no-- the screws on my bicycle basket were loosening. Viewing the rugged hills ahead, we started to walk leisurelyg yes, bicycles at our side. The road was stony but we pushed forward. Just then, I noticed that my back tire was losing a great deal of air and that brought on a sudden fear within me. The thought that we would soon approach a garage encouraged me. By now our mouths felt sand dry, our throats throbbed, and the desire for a drink was increasing. To be truthful, at this moment we were fagged out. Pausing for a moment, we heard the trickling of a brook. 'Gazing around, we spied a babbling stream. How delicious the first si, tasted! Feeling refreshed, we resumed our journey with renewed vigor. On and on we glided along--now on smooth tar road. Getting together on the idea that we were both starved, we decided to look for a place where we could est and rest our weary bones. we finally located it and began to get busy looking for wood for a fire. It was a perfect spot--tall maples marching right down the narrow stream: a profusion of fragrant shrubs and wild flowers growing on the hills. The Coql, comfortable breeze made ripples on the water and the ragged height of the mountains seemed only a stone's throw away. It only took a few minutes and we had everything Rutland Historical Society and the Ru,tlo,nd Free Library.