Yeshiva University High School For Boys - Elchanite Yearbook (New York, NY)

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At last, the final bell rendered its joyful song of liberation. and the multitudes poured out over the beckoning streets and avenues leading homeward. The knowl- edge and experiences of the day carved their indelible brand on the memories of those not yet aware of the great things which were expected of them. The subways and buses were crammed with this grateful outpouring of Iewish youth, as Mr. Frankels ear sped northward with an assorted bunch of liberated students. Tomorrow, the clanging of the bell will resound up and down the neighbor- hood-through 186th Street and across the Avenue, into the alleys and over the many roads leading to Talmudical Academy .... The Old Man by RONALD ROTHMAN On the horizon. where the moor met the azure sky, an old wizened, stooped figure could be seen trudging across the great expanse known as the Purple Moor. The sun was beating relentlessly down on his back. while the furze and thorns hindered his shriveled body. He kept on at a steady if slow pace. and with a bold cynical smile on his face, but the smile in his eyes was genuine enough. He rested for a minute, leaning on an old gnarled stick that could have been as old as himself, while his eyes swept the vast expanse of heath. The heath was as boisterous as the sea but very much more beautiful. There were immense oceans of brown furze. and myriads of tiny colorful islands. The wind which accounted for the undulating movement of the heath, was as endless as the inoor itself. The old man, resting on one of the colorful islands, looked about him lovingly. Ilis piercing glance seemed to linger on each Hower. The sparkling lavenders. the glowing yellows. and the shining whites were all caressed by his wistful gaze. VVitb a sigh he stood up. shrugged his shoulders. and went slowly onwards. XVithout warning. the wind, blowing lustily all the while, rose to the high, whistling pitch of a hurricane. The old man seemed to pay no heed. The wind rose and rose until its shriek was like that of a high, wailing ery of a violin. The old man. panting and staggering, still wore the same smile. The heather and the furze were living things now. They danced and walked before the wind like gypsies. scratching at the man's face. tripping his weary feet. Ile was now very tired. Abruptly the storm ceased. The wind died as quickly as it had arisen. The old man was close to home. Ilis face seemed brown. and his jaw granite-hewn. His cheeks were aliye with hundreds of tiny precipices. and the mouth was a thin line cutting his face in half. The nose was a hooked eagles beak. and the eyes were a light blue, almost grey. They were deep set and proud. Unexpectedly. the proud old man sank to his knees with a grating sigh that racked his worn. old body. He stretched his body out to its full length on his adored heath. Ilis whole body seemed to embrace the heath. Ilis face turned slowly toward the heavens. and he smiled. He closed his eyes. and opened them no more. The vast. endless moor and the eternal wind still live. pulsating. throbbing to eternity. 1- -5

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Rhapsody in Blue and White by BARRY oR1NeER The clanging of the 9:00 bell resounded up and down the neighborhood- through 186th Street and across the Avenue. into the alleys and over the many roads leading to Talinudieal Academy. The early morning patrons of Morris 81 Harry's Luncheonette gazed discon- solately at the warning signal cast by the hands of the big electric clock on the luncheonette wall. Across the street a skirmish line of students was flowing through the welcoming doors and spacious halls of the Yeshiva. ln the T.I. office, the solemn and repeated intonation of 'ALO Nislach cast a temporary shadow of gloom over the gathered crowd. Downstairs, in the office of the Registrar, a helpful secretary offered spiritual solace to those waiting to venture into the interior. In the classrooms, the future of America and the shining hope of Israel pored over the teachings of the sages, while scattered groups of dis- senters absorbed themselves in the wisdom of those whose spiritual value repre- sented a point of vigorous debate. At last, the lusty resonance of the recess bells probed through every nook and cranny of the Yeshiva, and a mighty stream of students flowed into the streets. Stern's Cafeteria became filled with hopeful freshmen who viewed the seem- ingly low prices with boundless enthusiasm. Their delight cooled somewhat as they squinted and squirmed at the microscopic portions eye-dropped into their plates. The crowning blow was the hidden l0ljQ, clause, and rumblings of discon- tent resounded throughout the confines of the cafeteria. Across the street, little cliques of student revolutionaries crowded eagerly around the booths and tables, expounding wild and unrealizable plans to liberate their Iewish brethren from the yoke of scholastic tyranny. The luncheonette was divided along graduate lines, and the class of '53 stood out boldly in the second booth on the right-hand side of the store. Across the room, Harry snorted inco- herent epithets at zealous science students attempting to prove physical theories with flying bottles of Pepsi-Cola. Morris, whose cheerful temperament varied inversely with the number of unpunched checks tossed over the counter, zealously guarded the precious few copies of the N. Y. Post on the wooden stand near the exit. The iinpassive expres- sion of the counterman failed to reflect the trend of business at the food counter. while in the hack a woman stood jealous guard over the pile of potato latkes heaped high under the indifferent noses of assorted studentry. The hours passed. Up in the classroom the rumblings of history and mathe- matics blended rhythmically with the wails of suspended students roaming the halls in search of suitable sanctuary. The collected wisdom of a thousand years penetrated thc minds of the leaders of tomorrow, while others, whose place in posterity remains doubtful, concentrated on the new literary masterpieces of YVillie Sutton. School statesmen announced the coming affairs of student coun- cils to their enthusiastic bands of followers, while lower freshmen constructed paper memorials to those who died waiting for the bell to ring. 24

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The Last Breath of Democracy by ravine BURsTErN The trial resumes. The judge takes his seat and the questioning of the prisoner continues. A'Louis Smith. You are charged with being the last democratic thinking person alive on Earth. How do you plead? . . . XVell, are you guilty or not? Cuilty. An ominous whisper goes through the courtroom. Everyone is astonished. The court will keep in order. Continue with your questioning. counsellor. Yes, Your Honor. I'll skip the details and get down to the most important question of all. XVho helped you escape the world-wide purges? UNO one helped me. I hid' in a caye when the purges started at the end of the war and left it only last week. XVill the counsellor please explain to the court how the prisoner was caught. 'tXVell your Honor. the accused entered a book shop one day and requested a large list of books. one of which contained one of the few remaining copies of the imperialistic, ill-worded Declaration of Independence. The shopkeeper, who worked underground during the war and who knew a lot about the capitalist sys- tem, became suspicious, and called the security police who took the prisoner into custody. The judge turns towards the prisoner. Haye you anything to say in your defense? If not, wc will have the defense counsellor sum up. Your Honor, there is nothing that I can say in defense of my client. Yet I would like to say to the court that I knew nothing of the case when I took it, and therefore I am taking this opportunity to apologize to all my colleagues. I hope they forgive me. So far as I am concerned you are beyond blame. I know that eyeryone on Earth will also accept your apology. The judge turns to the jury. HThe defendant has pleaded guilty. and therefore. there is no need for further debate. Docs the jury have any recommendations? The foreman of the jury rises. Your Honor, I am speaking in the name of the jury. YVithout retiring to the jury room, we recommend the maximum penalty. A great cheer iills the courtroom and the judge raps his gayel for silence. The prisoner will stand before the bar. The accused approaches the judge. He stands silent and tight-lipped. You are admittedly guilty of being a capitalist yyarmonger and a liberal thinker, This court sentences you. the last of your kind aliyc. to be shot by a tiring squad. Sentence is to be carried out immediately. Two armed guards march the prisoner outside. Ile is leaying without offering any resistance. A glassy stare is in his eyes as he gazes into the cloudless sky. They put the blindfold oyer his eyes. He is saying something silently to himself as the guns tire simultaneously. Finally. after ten years, the last breath of democracy has been smothered. 26