Winthrop High School - Winthrop Winner Yearbook (Winthrop, ME)

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T42 VVINTHROP XYINNICR Flight to Glory VVith its two powerful motors slowly turning over, a giant Lockhead plane sat posed for flight in front of one of the hangers at Newark airport in New Jer- sey. Several mechanics made last min- ute adjustments while the two pilots stood nervously talking with a number of reporters. A huge crowd milled around outside the gate trying to get a glimpse of the plane and pilots. Suddenly a door in the administration flew open and a blue uniformed man came running out. He rushed up to the plane with the news that the weather had finally cleared. Both pilots climbed in and made their way to the isle between the huge gas tanks and eased their way into the small cockpit. With one last word to friends they opened up first one and then the other motor, listening to its sturdy roar, checked their instruments and then idled them. They seemed to be waiting for something and then it came, the green light from the dispatch tower giving them the right to take off. Now both powerful motors suddenly roared in uni- son almost making the ground shake. Dust, stones, peoples' hats, and every- thing loose was blown around as the plane slowly turned to get on the large runway. The plane started to move faster and faster. Half way down the runway the tail showly lifted. A sort of queer stillness hung over the crowd. Everyone was thinking the same thing. Could the two roaring motors, hung on thick silvery wings, lift the enormous weight of nearly Hfteen hundred gallons of gasolene? Almost at the end of the runway one wing came up a little but fell back. The pilot was attempting to take it into the air. The plane reached the end of the runway and bounded heavily up and stayed up a few feet above the crowd, slowly but surely the pilot gained altitude, and the plane faded into the distance. Once again an attempt was being made to fly nonstop over the North Pole to Russia. Barry Rand the pilot with his co-pilot Dick Barnes sat nervously checking and rechecking their one hun- dred and forty instruments. Several hours later the broad Pacific Ocean lay beneath their left wing. On the right the snowy white falcons stretched out. The clock on the panel slowly moved around till it read seven oyclock. Exactly at the moment it reached seven, Dick reached for the radio to make another of his hourly radio checkups. He turned a blank lever until the pointer of two in- struments both quivered at the home station wave length. Then he held up the mike and softly repeated number 206 to Newark, go ahead Newarkf, After doing this several times he snapped another switch and fainly caught Newark acknowledging his call, then he gave the position. altitude, and airspeed and signed off. The air grew bumpy and the fog began to get thicker. Radio contact grew fainter and fainter until it was lost altogether. Hours later through the clouds they caught a glimpse of the snow and ice. Their instruments showed them to be within five miles of the Pole, then the clouds closed in again. Hour after hour passed with the thick white mist rolling past the windows, so thick that the wing tips were hidden from view. One of the motors began to heat and slowly lost power. Dick and Jim worked nervously with various instruments try- ing to keep it running but their efforts failed to do any good. Presently the motor kicked a last time and went dead. The plane, unable to stay in the air with the heavy load, settled down to the ocean beneath. Dick shook hands with Barry but neither of them said a word. The altimeter slowly settled, then with a wail- ing roar the plane hit the water. For weeks both the Russians and .Xmericans in hundreds of planes and boats searched the water where Dick and Barry were last heard from but they were nnally forced to give up and two more pilots' names were added to those who

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VVINTHROP HIGH SCHOOL 31 A Description of a Person Around the bend of the dusty road appeared the form of a slowly moving figure. VVhen it was in full view it re- vealed the countenance of a man. His haggard and drawn face bore the marks of the hot sun. Long stringy gray hair clung in knots at the nape of his neck. The dust blending with the perspiration on his face erased all traces of identifi- cation. A wide brimmed hat, flattened on the top, sheltered his head. His stature, which was at one time tall, was deprived of its length when Age placed a crook in his body. His long hooked nose was in harmony with the rest of his face. Two long yellow teeth projected above his lower lip. His long arms dangled loosely from the sleeves of his ragged and dilap- idated coat. His pants weighed down by gravel he carried in the cuffs of them, clung stiflly to his body. The smell of warm leather emerged from his soleless shoes. Now and then a muffled groan escaped his lips. But this disregarded human trudged along, making in himself a very strange picture. Annie Adams, i38. Just Smile Wlieii old man trouble, trouble you Don't give up in despair just keep your chin above the clouds, There's sunshine way up there. just think of better days to come, Of better health to gain And then lim sure that you will see The sun shine through the rain. If you will share with someone else Said trouble of their own VVhen you look back to pick yours up You'll find that they have flown. So when you think that you are pressed And you are so abused just look about and you will see That others are ill-used. Floyd Smith, '40 Jan In far away Sweden there lived a little girl. Her home was a small hut on the edge of a town. She lived with her mother and father. She had a little dog named Bim, and a cute cat named Ginger. Tuesday was her day to keep house for mother. Mother always went to market on Tuesday and sold her cheese and milk. VVhen Tuesday came Janis mother started to market and as soon as she disappeared over the hill jan decided to play with her cat, Ginger. After a short time she became tired of this and decided to go see her grandmother who lived a short distance away. So, jan put on her bright red cap with a big ball of sheeps wool on top. She got her bright red coat from the closet. Then she started out. The sun was shining and she stopped to watch the birds, singing in the trees. Soon. jan became sleepy so she curled up under an old tree. Presently she was in slumber land. She dreamed she was in fairy land. Little elves led her to a small hut in a deep forest and told her to enter. It big was a beautiful little house just enough for jan. There was candy and jan cake and a lot of good things to eat. ate a lot until her belly was round and full. She saw a pink dog and a red cat and oh! a lot of other things. jan had eaten so much she felt very sleepy. Bun, a little elf dressed in Royal purple showed jan a bed in which she could sleep. It was a very small bed and jan's feet went way out over the top, then the sandman came and she went to sleep in dream land. jan awoke with a start and stared all about her. She jumped up and started for home, for it was getting dark. When she reached home her mother was getting supper. After supper she told her story to her mother. Then she became very sleepy and her mother tucked her in bed and jan soon fell asleep. That is the story of a little girl in Sweden. Ruth House, ,3S.

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XYINTHROP HIGH SCHOOL 321 failed before them. It was a foolish loss of life in the eyes of the average per- son but reasons that are kept from the public have been the objects of many seemingly worthless flights that have really pioneered the path now followed by huge horsepower planes with great safety. Gary Lee, ,239 Human Nature in a Subway For those who enjoy studying human nature there is undoubtedly no better place than the downtown street car or the subway, especially those which come and go between hve and seven. Here one will find every type of humanity. The shoddy person on the left with too much powder and too little grooming is coming from her Hve a week l' job in a live and ten to her apartment. The shapely legs of the girl next to her mean only one thing, weeks and weeks of practice until one desire is found, her name in big lights. Then there is the business man with his poignant, smelling cigar lost in his news- paper and matters too erudite for the frivolities around him. Up back is The Chattering VV omenls Club just return- ing from an outing, tired yes, but not tired enough so that they have lost their loquaciousness. No street car or sub- way would be complete without the howl- ing five year old whose mother has no influence in subduing his cries, much to the disgust of the bespeckled mannish lad. tlndividual across the way.j Ste- nographers, chorus girls, shoppers, busi- ness men, and clerks every one living in a separate world having their own worries, happiness and interests and in- different to the companions around them. They jostle eaclgier, push each other, apologize to each other and then go on their respective ways. Betty Webb, '39. On Seeing a Horse Race llands playing--drum majors strut- ting- hot choking dust-and a mass of people wait breathlessly for what?-- for the big event of the day,-THE RACES ! ! ! The bands disperse and the people set- tle down, waiting for the appearance of the horses. Many are going over their racing sheets and still others are placing last-minute bets. How feverishly they toss their money to the waiting girl at the stand, who knowns that they will never beat racing! Back to the stands and to numerous speculations as to the merits of the horses that you placed your money on. All this ceases as the horses are led from their stables to the track. VVhat beauties they are! How their satiny coats gleam in the sun. How royally they strut with their jockey's hunched over like little gnomes on their backs. They are led to their places and the crowd leans tensely forward. A shot! The barriers are jerked up and the cry is raised- 'A They're off ! Can this be a civilized crowd? This tortured mass of humanity, screaming, beseeching, imploring-a man over in the next isle has completely lost control of himself. He is pitifully begging some Lady jane to fly to the goal and curs- ing her jockey for not playing her nearer the rail. The woman next to him uses different tactics. She, alternately scolds, and uses baby-talk to her choice. lt's over, Vtfhat a leaden sound that has. There is something final about these few words. Something that you can faintly see in the drooping heads of the tired horses. No peerless, thorough- brecls these, their sides heaving and their coats dulled by dust and perspiration. The crowd too looks different. The 'K Sport of Kingsfl they call it, but its effects on people are quite un-royalfl Virginia Rourke, '38 l