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

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VVestbrook High School 4'. 4'A'- 'A ' 25 heavy pedals, and away roared the truck, hum- ming like a dynamo. There was just enough chill in the air this season to make the warmth of the cab com- fortable. joe rather enjoyed his long ride through the night, while the rest of the world was sleeping. Past darkened farmhouses, through deserted villages they sped. To Joe the loneliness of the dark hours seemed to im- bue the truck with a personality which fur- nished him companionship on the journey. To- night the smooth regularity of the motor seemed to urge him to close his eyes and finish that nap. Don't worry, I'll be all right-all right-all right it said. The farther joe drove, the sleepier he became, until finally, after nar- rowly missing a couple of telephone poles, the great load of cargo, now almost completely out of control, plunged from the highway. Fortunately, for both joe and the merchan- dise, the land was on a level with the road at the place where the truck leaped. For miles across this level stretch there was nothing growing but corn. Joe continued to doze! The big truck crashed along at its same terrific pace, mowing down cor.nstalks six feet high. As it plunged, it leaped through that unlucky crop of corn, but Joe slept on, lulled by con- fidence in his big truck. Finally, the bumps in the field became rougher and rougher as the giant wheels crashed again and again. joe awoke with a start. He looked at the speedometer. Fifty miles an hour! I-Ie glanced ahead of the great radiator. and to his surprise, he found the highway to be full of what appeared to him to be trees. Still halfway between the land of dreams and reality, he decided to investigate this strange terrain. He climbed to the top of the load to get his bearings and lo and behold! he was only about ten yards from the direct road to Boston. I-Ie had, unbeknown to him, crashed through tive miles of cornstalks, thus cutting off a large number of miles. joe was the first of the three truckmen to reach his goal. NVhen the other drivers ar- rived with their shipment, joe was questioned concerning his speedy delivery. Ohl it was nothing, 'we' only took a little short cut, he chuckled. . ' A. F., '36. THIS GENERATION Each year on the first Monday of music camp, all of its members Walk the historical paths of Castine to the rock-bound seacoast for a marshmallow toast. A half hour after supper the one hundred boys and girls began the two-mile hike through the grounds of a country club, the backyard of a pretentious summer home, and up an old tote road. Finally, after following a long wind- ing path, we Went down the side of a steep the seashore. Soon all were grouped various fires laughing, talking and singing 'while eating their marshmallows. After we had eaten as much as we could, Harry and I decided to take a walk down the shore and see the new swimming pool. just as we were to go out of sight of the party, I looked back and to my surprise saw that they had left the shore. Harry thought that we should start in the direction of the camp from where we were. This will be a short cut, and probably we'll get back about the same time as the rest, he remarked. ' I hope so, because if we are not back when they check up, I'm likely to be campused for a week, I answered. Here the ledge was steeper and more diffi- cult to climb than the one we had come down. VVe managed to make it. There was no path to follow, so we were forced to hurry through the underbrush as bert we could. Finally we came to an opening. VVhat a beautiful spot! It was smaller than the average house and was surrounded by tall, even pine trees. How odd that there should l:e such a clearing as this in these wild woods! Harry was saying something about his lik- ing to have, later on, a little log cabin there for just him and me, when suddenly some- thing startling caught my eye at the opposite end of the opening. Harry stiffened and I knew he'd seen it, too. lfVith great curiosity cliff to around

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I I I The Blue Er White 24 BoB HARRISON: Yes, this is the place, all right, but where's Dick? I must see him and tell him about the car, I'm having a little trouble with the engine. BILL: Usually fellows about to be married are hours before the time. What's that you have there, Bob? BOB: Oh, this is a present for Isabel. I didn't mail it for fear her father would open it, he does, you know, open all of her mail. You know, Bill. I wonder if Dick will ever regret marrying this jewish girl. Her father can make it pretty hard for Dick. BILL: Dick gets' into scrapes, but he pretty nearly always gets out. I'm beginning to think something is wrong. VV ho's that? BOB: Sh! Sh! Here comes Dick now. fE1zter Dick.j DICK: Hello, Bill, Bob. It was swell of you fellows to wait here so long. VVhenever you need my help to elope with anyone as fair as Isabel, I'll help you. You notice I say as fair, for no one could be fairer than she. Hi! Isabel, is that you in the window? ISABEL: VVho are you? ls it you, Dick, dar- ling? DICK: Yes, none other than me, dear. Are you ready? For in an hour you will be my own blushing bride. , ISABEL: Here, Dick, catch this box, for it is full of some of Father's bonds and money. I'm indeed glad it is dark, so that you can't see me dressed in this costume, for you probably would change your mind about me. Father will never recognize me if he sees me. DICK: Hurry, Isabel. Is your father still as bitter about our love, Isabel, just because we possess different religions? I remember when he first reminded me of the fact after he learned I was a Christian, and how he hates Christians. But let us be happy for tonight, dear. My road- ster is down the street a little way. At least, it is mine for tonight. I borrowed it from Bob. As for your clothes, darling, I would love you if you were dressed in overalls. ISABEL: I will lock the doors and get a little more money: we will need plenty, you know. just one minute, my dear. ' BILL: She certainly isn't very much like her father, the miserly old grouch. DICK: I love her very much. And there's one thing to my credit, I'm taking her out of her misery here. Come, Isabel, let us hurry. Iim much obliged, Bob, for the roadster. Bois: Isabel, I want to give you this little pres- ent, it isn't much, but just something to remind you and Dick of Bill and me. Well, congratula- tions, Dick. So long. BILL: So long, Dick. Come, Bob, we will be late for the Mardi Gras just as sure as anything. ISABEL: Thanks a lot -for the present, Bob, and Dick and I will always remember you as our pals and true friends. DICK: Come, Isabel, it's getting late. Take just one last look at your home, for it will be the last time you will see it while you are single and belong just to your father, for soon, very soon, you'll belong to me. ISABEL: Oh, Dick! I do hope we'll always be happy, very happy! FINIS. A SHORT CUT Heavy trucks were roaring in and out of the garage of the Williams Trucking Company in Springdale, a small town in western Maine, where the largest shipping business in that part of the country was carried on with Bos- ton wholesalers. Three great trucks traveled from Springdale to Boston every night, loaded with native goods and returned with city mer- chandise. On the night of October sixth of last year, three great machines with everything perfect- ly adjusted, stood in front of the garage of the VVilliams Company, loaded and waiting only for the drivers. Soon two of the drivers ap- peared, reported at the office, and immediately started for Boston. The driver of the largest of the three trucks was half an hour late re- porting at the oHice. Overslept, he blurted at the clerks, for he was still half asleep. He stumbled out of the office and climbed sleepily into the great ten-ton truck which was waiting for him. He turned a key, stepped on the

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26 we approached it. I thought, Evidently some- one else has been here, too. The sign read: HERE LIE THE BODIES or FIFTEEN RESIDENTS or CASTINE WHo HEROICALLY DIED DURING THE SIEGE or CASTINE AUG. 9, 1735 My first impulse was to run but Harry said, That happened two hundred years ago today. What a coincidence! Let's look around here and perhaps we may find something very in- terestingf' I felt very guilty walking on that soft, thick, green grass under which now lay the bodies of fifteen heroes. They died for America, for lib- erty, and for the happiness of their followers. How much they must have loved our Maine and our Country! Are they pleased with the result of the sacrifice of themselves and thou- sands of others? Do we appreciate them? Is our government as they would have had it? VVill our now care free youths sometime have to defend this country as they did? ' Suddenly I heard a muflied clicking sound. I looked about me. Harry was nowhere to be seen. What should I do? Desperately I ran in the direction of that noise. There were fal- len trees in the way. I tripped and fell hard to the ground. PF all Pk lk Pk wk I was in a room with crude furnishings. There were fifteen weather-beaten men in fron- tier clothing staring at me coldly. One stepped forward and with a heavy bass voice said: Two hundred years ago we fell near where you have just fallen. lVe fell dead. Killed with the bullets and bayonets of people who wanted to make this their land. Why, when we heard that we were outnumbered, did we not retreat inland? W'e loved this land. VVe came here for freedom. No other country was going to rule us while we lived. You, the youth of America, do not appre- ciate this. You have religious freedom. You rarely go to church more than once a week. l I The Blue fr VVhite You have opportunities for splendid educa- tions. You feel abused to be made to go to school. You even throw books around, de- stroying them. You will have a part in the government. Wliat will you do with it? Will your generation respect your country, improve it and defend it ? The room was shaking with the thunder of his voice. The light went out. lkakvkvlfvkvk Are you all right? Gosh! that tumble knocked you right out. You had me some frightened for a minute. Quick, Harry, let's get black to the school. I've got to practice my cello and start studying my history for next year. A. V., '36. CLASSIC MOVING PICTURES For a number of years the moving pictures have not been overseriousg they have lacked in charm and honest .natural expression. Al- though they have satisfied some movie goers, there is a class of movie fans who have been waiting and hoping to see the day when the producers of moving pictures would direct and produce classicsg stories in which lovers of good books have found real depth and mean- ing. Most good books contain in their plot all the pathos of life in a balanced and blended formg that is the reason for a reader's becom- ing so interested in a good story that he ac- tually lives in its environment. We like to feel that we are a part of the storyg sometimes we become so completely engrossed in the book that we see ourselves in the written character of hero or heroine. A book which produces these emotions in the reader is rare- ly ever forgotteng it becomes a part of us and makes a never-to-be-forgotten impression. The same, therefore, can be said of a good classic moving picture. A picture which expresses horror or mystery, or that departs from real- ism, may be enjoyable and still show great skill and ingenuity to produce it.