Westbrook High School - Blue and White Yearbook (Westbrook, ME)

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A Aqwv The Blue Er VVhite 16 A MUSICIAN IN THE MAKING For the last time, no! You cannot have a saxophone. You've been raving for days and days for one, telling me how quickly you'd learn, but I know better. It will be just like all other things, you'll give it up after you get tired of it, angrily exclaimed Horatio Hender- son, Sr., to his son Tommy, as he rose to go to his ofhce for the afternoon. The junior of the family had been teasing his father for several days to let him take les- sons on the saxophone and also to buy him one. Mr. Henderson doubted the sincerity of his offspringg but the truth was, that Tommy was absolutely serious about music. He loved it and 'intended to carve a niche for himself in the world of music. He had really made up his mind to earn his living with music. Yes, but Dad, music is different from those other things. I like it, and I swear I won't give it up. XVhy, I intend to earn my living that way. A'Very well, then, if you like it so much, go out and earn your own instrument and lessons and become an A-1 player. Then I'll believe you. More than that, when you've proved to my satisfaction that you've done all this, I'll buy you another saxophone, of different pitch from what you'll have. but remember, I have to be shown. Tommy left the house with the intention of doing just what his father had said. At first he went to all the stores about town, seeking afternoon employment, but was quite unsuc- cessful. As he turned out of the last store he had gone into, Tommy suddenly stopped short. I've got it ! he exclaimed, but paused doubtfully. Dare he try to carry out his scheme? There was not much chance, but- anything if he could take up music. He directed his steps toward the establish- ment of the city's best saxophone instructor. This man, L. Downey, repaired and polished instruments as well as taught how to play. Tommy finally arrived at the leader's office. On the door was in plain lettering, Mr. L. Downey, Teacher of Saxophone and Clarinet. He paused nervously. lfVhat was behind that door? How would he be received? These ques- tions flashed through his head, but he said to himself, VVell, it isn't begging, and he can't do more than refuse. Here goes! He opened the door with a firm hand and stepped inside a small, quietly furished room. Why, there was no one there. VVhy didn't someone come? His nerve was leaving him. At last here was someone coming. A kindly- faced, white-haired man came in from an inner room. His sharp, blue eyes smiled at Tommy. VVell, young man, what can I do for you ? Look here, sir, Tommy said, I've got something to ask you. You teach the saxo- phone, don't you? lfVell, I want to take it up. I can't pay for lessons, and I haven't even an instrument, but I've got a business proposi- tion. I'll come here every afternoon of the week and help you to repair and polish instruments. I can mount them and do other odd jobs around here. In return, all I ask is a lesson a week and the loan of an instrument to prac- tice on. Mr. Downey looked at Tommy keenly and silently. Tommy fidgeted. Well, why didn't he say something instead of looking at him in that way? Finally, Mr. Downey questioned, Do you really like the saxophone or is this a joke? Do you intend to work conscientiously on the instruments? Do you intend to practice as often as I tell you ? Before Tommy could answer this volley of questions, the teacher nodded and said, Yes, you'll do. I can tell by looking at you that you've got spirit and that you were born to be a musician. All right. You may begin now. Tommy gaped in surprise, hardly believing his ears, but when realization of his good luck penetrated his brain, he stuttered a thank you and fell to work sweeping the three rooms that made up the establishment. He worked his best that afternoon and when he went home, with the memory of a First lesson in his mind, he carried a saxophone by his side. He had been warned by the teacher to prac- tice diligently for at least two hours a day.

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VVestbrook High School 1 N 'QQ' W 15 That isn't my picture, said I. To be sure it's yours, said he. No. said I, this resembles more a monster than myself. Do you know what he told me? He told me, If you want to have a picture of yourself that looks good, send a friend to have his picture taken for you. It is the last time I shall have my photo- graph taken at the photographers A. F., '36, WHAT SHALL WE READ? This is a very important question when one realizes that reading is a tremendous influence on the planning and ambitions of an indi- vidual's life. VVe see this fact illustrated in the history of various nations. The people of India read extensively, but because their read- ing is practically worthless as far as material is concerned, they are a backward nation. They also have become introverts because they have confined themselves to the writings of their own countrymen instead of the works of other countries. On the other hand, our own coun- try is the most modern in the world because of its advanced reading. Reading is also a factor in molding an indi- vidual's life. It may be for good or for bad. Of course, this is centered around the nature of the books read. An example of good in- fluence is found in the reading of our president. He pays little attention to fiction, but confines himself almost entirely to biographies and books that identify him with his own historical past. He makes this part of his library the arsenal from which to arm himself for the inevitable encounters of the future. Another example of this is the theologian, jonathan Edwards. As a boy, he read books which were gradually to fit him for his life- work-the ministry. Abraham Lincoln with his few books, namely, Pilgrim's Progress and the Bible, was molded for his later life and works. Books also influence for the bad, however, allowing the reader to live vicariously in an unwholesome atmosphere, many times furnish- ing unhealthful ideas. Although books of travel and Hction are good for anyone ordinarily, many young people in reading questionable literature of escape, which describes the lives of notorious characters, may be influenced into attempting to mimic them. So much for the infiuence that reading has on a person. Now let us consider. VVhat shall we read? Reading may, to a great extent, be likened to a physical diet. VVe do not think of living en- tirely on light foods, instead we are forced to resort to foods with more strengthening value such as meats and vegetables. It is the same way in reading. VVe must he as particular in our intellectual diet as in the physical. The mind must be developed in growth through our reading and unless our intellccts are developed we hafvc utterly failed in our purposes for reading. Of course as young people, perhaps falthough not necessarilyj, we will assimilate books of a lighter nature. It can't be expected that we read philosophy or Einstein's Theory, but as we get older and our minds likewise develop, we will be able to read more difficult books. It is to be feared that the reason many fail to grow in intellect is that they read books which are of no value. They confine themselves to a certain class of fiction-true stories, love stories, western tales, or detective mysteries - which stunt their growth. XVe might wonder if books of this nature may not have influenced John Dillinger, and Pretty Boy Floyd. Books of entertaining value are not all that we needg instead, it is necessary that we read something hard once in a while, something substantial that will challenge thought. A good reader is an artist. Wlhen we realize the advantages of reading, in acquainting our- selves with the travels over the earth, the biog- raphies of men past and present, the findings of men of knowledge, the discoveries of mod- ern science, the various arts, and so many other things that could be named, we shall realize that there are vast opportunities in the field of reading. We can stand on the moun- tains, look out over the plain, and find endless lands to explore. R. B., '35.

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Westbrook High School '-w Q' W VVhen Tommy arrived at home, he said noth- ing to his father, and the father said nothing to him, but patted himself on the back for having such an enterprising son, and resolved to let the boy practice as much as he wanted to, no matter how terrible the sound. Tommy continued with his work, learning now every day about playing saxophones and about repairing them. In fact, he could now take an instrument all apart and put it back together again. Tommy was Mr. Downey's most conscientious pupil, he practiced in all his spare time and a constant flood of melody seemed to be coming from the Henderson home whenever Tommy was there. Une day, after a particularly fine lesson with Tommy, Mr. Downey said to himself, That boy is going places. Although he doesn't know it, he's the best of my pupils. I think I'll enter him in the saxophone soloing con- test this year. The next day Mr. Downey 'said to Tom, How would you like to enter the contest sponsored by N. B. C. Studios this year? VVould I! exclaimed Tommy joyously. Then added dejectedly, VVhy-yes, but I can't enter. I've taken only thirty lessons. I wouldnit have a chance. Don't fool yourself. I don't say you'll win, but you stand a fair chance. And remember, live thousand dollars and a five-year contract with Rudy Vallee is well worth trying for. 'VVell, hesitated Tommy, I don't know. All right, I'll try. I can't do more than lose, anyway. I'll ask my father tonight. That night Tommy asked for his parents' permission, which, of course, was given, and once more Mr. Henderson patted himself on the back. For two weeks Tommy practiced and prac- ticed. His fingers were becoming so nimble that they resembled electric sparks leaping from key to key. Finally, after much ado, Tommy and Mr. Downey left for New York City, where the contest was to be held. Tom- my's mother did a great deal of talking about his doing his best, but Mr. Henderson's Good luck, son, meant more to him. In the great hall of The Roxy Theater' were a vast number of people, and among them were a good many of the great maestri of the radio world, whose purpose in coming was to pick out additional members for their orchestras. The program began. One after another the soloists stepped up to the microphone and did their bit. How well they played! To poor Tommy it seemed as if he could never equal their performances. Next on the program, ladies and gentle- men, is young Thomas Henderson from West- brook, Maine. As he stepped up to the mike it seemed to Tommy that he could hardly breathe, his fingers were all thumbs, and his mouth was dry. Come on, buck up, he said to himself, I've got to repay Mr. Downey and show Dad. Magically it seemed that he was normal again. He filled his lungs with airg he was off. He wasn't so bad after all. He closed his eyes and all at once he seemed to be in Mr. Downey's office doing his weekly lesson. Blow breath - Blow breath. NVhy, it was coming fine. His heart lifted with joy, his fingers slipped over the keys. His audience Was hushed, as softly, oh, so softly, his rhythm entered their souls. Finally the end-a long, quiet pause-and then-the audience was on its feet. Encorel they shouted, Encore! Unfor- tunately this was against the rules, but at the end of the program the judges announced: The winner of the first prize is Thomas Henderson of Westbrook, Maine. As Tommy started from the wings, a X'VCSt- ern Union boy passed him a telegram. Ex- citedly he read: Good work son stop There's a gold- burnished- saxophone waiting for you stop I take it all back stop L. M., '36.