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1986-87

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SCOTT COUNTY LIBRARY SYSTEM

563-285-4794

www.scottcountylibrary.org

3 0050 06583 2361

Sc* Countv Library Svsteir' Hdare: 200 N.6tn Avenue

Bdndge.M 52748

Star

EDITORS

Shellie Littrel, Editor-in-chief Angie Baker, Art Editor Jennifer Blavat, Layout Editor

EDITORIAL BOARD

Angie Baker Jennifer Blavat Tammy Damron Julie Hested Heather Holland

ADVISORS

Gene Conrad, Linda McClurg, Harlan VanderVinne, Language Arts Department

SPECIAL ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Craig Hintz, Principal

Bernie Peeters, Art Instructor

Len Cockman, Language Arts Instructor

Carmene Granger, Business Education Instructor

Karen Wyatt, Typist

COVER ART

Laurie Cawiezell

LANGUAGE ARTS FACULTY

Len Cockman Dennis Hennigan Steve Mohr

Gene Conrad Judith Jacobs Connie Nagel

Diane Hall Linda McClurg Harlan VanderVinne

MORNING STAR....

...is the name of a medieval weapon, but the term also signifies the awakening freshness and potential of young artists and writers at North Scott. This fourth annual collection of creative student expression joins The Lance, the student newspaper, and The Shield, the yearbook, as productions of the North Scott High School Language Arts Department .

Shellie Littrel Michelle Petersen Megan Schirman Darcey Timmerman Carrie Weidenhamer

Why Brown Cows Make Chocolate Milk

Many years ago, before the city of Hershey, Pennsylvania, there was no chocolate in this land. The people didn't realize what it was, or the yumminess the flavor held.

Now, one day Mr. Smith (everyone was named Smith in those days) came across an unusual looking cow while walking across a pasture .

"My goodness gracious to the great Lord above. What an unusual looking cow!" he exclaimed.

And indeed it was. For this cow was all one color .... brown . Not a single other color anywhere else on her body, just a single shade of brown.

"You don't seem to belong to anybody. I'll just take you home with me. You're an unusual looking cow. I'll call you Bessie." (Every cow was named Bessie in those days).

So Mr. Smith took Bessie home to let her feed and sleep as she pleased. Yes, all was well.

The next morning, Mr. Smith went to milk Bessie for a good, wholesome amount of calcium for breakfast. He was merrily whistling as he squirted the milk into his gallon jug.

"Good morning, Bessie. Let's see how much milk you've got for me today."

He looked into his jug to see brown milk filling it up.

"My goodness gracious to the great Lord above, what is going on? This milk can't be rotten - it's fresh-squeezed."

He lifted the jug to his lips and sipped the warm liquid.

"Why, it's milk, but the flavor is unlike anything I've ever tasted. It must be some exotic taste that no one has ever tried. I'll call it chocolate _ chocolate milk."

Mr. Smith ran to his house to start figuring profit and when he could start selling his milk.

That is why brown cows make chocolate milk. You say they don't? Well, let me finish my story.

After Mr. Smith finished calculating, he ran back to Bessie to try„*to milk her again.

As he was milking, along came a cute little rabbit and he watched Mr. Smith milk Bessie. He carried a container with him and with a twitch of his nose the chocolate turned into powder and filled the rabbit's container, leaving Mr. Smith with plain old milk. The rabbit tore off taking his container with him.

"My goodness gracious to the great Lord above, what a quick rabbit."

He sadly dragged himself back to his house, leaving the rabbit to make a fortune from chocolate powder for milk.... to make chocolate milk.

To this day, a single-shaded brown cow has yet to be found, leaving the quick rabbit to prosper.

Shellie Littrel,

'88

Memories

You said we'd be together Until the end of time.

I honestly believed that I could call you mine.

The time we spent with one another Seemed to pass by fast.

The way you talked, the way I felt, I was sure that we would last.

The hourless conversations.

The walks along the streets,

The hugs and embraces I'd receive Every time that we would meet.

You said your word was good.

Your promises you would keep;

Then without warning you left Leaving me to weep.

You took with you not only Your love, but mine.

And although my heart is broken.

It will slowly heal in time.

But even though you took all this, Leaving me alone and blue,

You can't take away the memories Of the time I spent with you.

Patty Keppy, '88

Young Mother's Death

Trying to be young men as they were, it seemed so hard to keep the tears inside.

But father was crying, so the boys knew it was all right to cry.

Katherine Main, '88

The Winning Game

Three - Two - One - BUZZt! As I heard the roar of the opposing teams's crowd, I struggled to get my sweaty, exhausted body off the court. I held back my emotion until the locker room. Then I saw a tear fall from the face of my coach, I realized a dream was shattered. We, the Jefferson Wildcats, had lost the State Championship by three points.

Up until this moment we were undefeated. I believed that we were number one since the beginning of the season and the rankings proved it to be true. Our team was definitely physically prepared for the big game but now I wondered if we were mentally prepared. After all the exciting pep rallies we were built up with such confidence and enthusiasm from our supporting fans. We obviously needed to prepare our minds more. If we would have lost a game before, we could have learned how to lose a game and use it to our advantage.

Lying awake in bed going through the game a million times thinking "what if....". I realized I had lost nothing. I could sit and replay the mistakes in my mind over and over again, but nothing would change what I had gained. It was a rare experience of participating on a successful team. I know now that we won as a team, lost as a team, and always will be a team. In this sense, we all came out winners.

Kelly McFate , '88

The First Snow of Winter

I look outside the window And much to my surprise - I see tiny, silver flakes Falling from the sky.

Small miracles from up above Long and duly awaited - Now it truly must be winter For the snow is finally falling.

Stacee LaRue, '88

A Toast to Him

I see him more often now, he soothes me, he loves me.

No one understands, he loves me.

They tell me to leave him, how can I? he loves me.

He is my lover, my life.

He would never hurt me, he loves me.

The more I see of him lately,

there is a feeling that is growing, it tingles, maybe burns, could it be hate?

Don't be ridiculous.

As I close my eyes, and my body relaxes, I hear the familiar sound of my bottle hitting the floor.

Celeste Lorenz, '88

Thinking of Spring

I can not wait until once again -

The sun will shine, the birds will sing.

I'll go outside, look into the sky - And hope that you are there.

The flowers will rise from their long winter nap With the buzzing bees close by,

And I'll wonder why -

This time comes only once a year.

Stacee LaRue, '88

4

Sharp notes and strange harmonies Reminisce a springtime dream- I danced for the last child to feel Its touch, when I began to reel. Slowly, slid a heavy beat.

Black and sunshine in the heat- Bloody clouds across the sky,

Summer blossomed with a sigh. Anxieties that died away,

Live the nighttime, love the day- One smile, and it was me he told: Mama, take me Home sweet home.

Megan Shirman, '90

Questions

So many feelings, but no thoughts.

Full of emotion, yet empty.

I feel everything, but I am numb, it makes no sense, but is so logical.

What does love feel like?

Is it a feeling at all?

All the questions in the world, jumbled in my brain.

The answers are somewhere, but will I ever find them? is he the answer, or just another question?

Karen Brotherton,

'90

5

We're changing,

You and me and Him and her.

Finding our identities, and changing.

Drifting apart

As we seek out ourselves,

And our interests and likes.

As we change .

Sticking to our beliefs While seeking out others.

To share with new people,

New places, new things.

We'll always be friends,

Always have memories.

But right now we must part;

For we're changing,

You and me and Him and her.

We're changing....

And sometimes, change is good.

Shellie Littrel, '88

Life Unfair

Does anyone, anywhere,

Ever stop to care.

Life seems so unfair.

Death that gives, sometimes, no warning. Then comes the mourning.

Some know of life's end, and They try to make amends.

But in the end,

Life seems so unfair.

Mark Mess, '88

6

Neighbors .

Across the front lawn. Out the back door.

Down the street,

Over the stream. Neighbors .

Out of town.

Over the ridge.

Across the country, Around the world. Neighbors .

Ben Auliff, '88

Don't Fall in Love

Don't ever fall in love, my friend, you see it doesn't say.

Although it causes broken hearts, it happens every day.

You'll wonder where she is at night. You'll wonder if she's true.

One moment you'll be happy, the next one you'll be blue.

And when it starts you don't know why, you'll worry day and night.

You see, my friend,

I'm losing her.

It never turns out right.

So if you ever fall in love, you'll hurt before it's through.

You see, my friend, you ought to know. . . .

I fell in love with you!

Joe O'Rourke, '87

7

Chocolate chip cookies are the best.

But if I eat this one,

I'll never fit into this dress.

Tomorrow morning. I'll step on the scale. My weight will look like a humpback whale.

Oh dear, oh dear, what should I do?

I know! I'll give this cookie to you!

Ann Newton, '88

Faithfully

I've tried to call you, several times.

But you are never home.

Sometimes after I hang up,

I feel so alone.

I really should get over you, This I know is true.

The only problem is,

I still love you.

I guess I'd better end this now, So nothing will be said needlessly.

If you ever need me,

I want you to know,

I'm still here.

Faithfully.

Michele Manley, '88

9

HOLSTEIN

The Story of a Groovy Penguin

Most penguins that live in California are a little demented, but Holstein takes the cake. Let me introduce myself. My name is Baxter Aberdeen. I'm, well, I hate to say this but, I'm one of Holstein's best friends. No, let me rephrase that.

I'm Holstein's only friend. At least I'm the only one that halfway understands him.

This is his story.

It all started in a place called Chernobyl. Apparently, Holstein had been sent there for studies by Russian scientists. I'm afraid I must interrupt myself and beg you to remember that Holstein told me all of this at an incredibly early hour in the morning. He skipped parts of the story and other parts I slept through. Anyway, Holstein was in Russia when the nuclear plant "sprung a leak", as he so eloquently put it. He told me that he vaguely remembers his past life but he said it was extremely stuffy.

Holstein didn't remember how he escaped from Russia.

All that he knows is that he stole Gorbachov's personal limousine and that he is now wanted by the KGB. He said he had to get out because the Russian "madmen" were trying to make him fly, Personally, I don't blame him.

He got to California, somehow. He never told me how he got here. I guess I never asked because I was so astonished with him when I first met him. His appearance would astonish anyone.

The first time that I met him was at a park just outside of Napa Valley. I was peacefully gnawing on a T-bone steak when I was startled by an obnoxious little red MG. It went roaring through the park spraying mud all over me. Of course, you can guess who it was. He circled the park and came to a screeching halt right in front of me, splattering me, once again, with mud.

"Like woe, dude. Are you OK? I can't believe how high that mud flew, man. It's like, wow," he said.

"Well, I think I shall be all right. Are you all right? Don't you know the rules of this park? I say, where did you get that car? You're a penguin. What in Heaven's name are you doing in California?"

"Hey, you're a dog. Did you go to college or something? Where did you, like, get that great accent? Hey man, are you with the KGB? You ask a lot of questions."

As you may have already judged by our first conversation, we are almost as opposite as two beings could be. It's amazing that we were as civil as we were when we first met.

I will spare you the description of my first car ride with him. Let's just say it will change your life . or end it.

continued

continued ....

He and I became friends, and I must inform you that it was more his decision than mine. We have been friends for quite a while. I had to help him clear up his problem with the KGB. It turned out that all they wanted to know was how he got the limousine and where it was when he left Russia.

Holstein has calmed down a little bit. I think it's partly because his red MG is pink now. He ran it through a car wash and the solution was seventy-five percent bleach. Their machines were on the fritz. He was heartbroken for several weeks.

I should like to think that more of his story will be printed in the near future, if I could ever find the rest of it. I have written all of my experiences with Holstein down in my memoirs. I stored them in a box in the basement of Holstein's apartment and now I can't find them anywhere. Holstein has something to do with it. I know. I just wanted to know that someone would know that I wasn't crazy. There is a "groovy" penguin named Holstein who lives in California.

Lori Smith, '88

Summer to Fall

Our time together was like summer to fall.

It flowered so beautifully, then shrunk so small. One day it was here, I held it so tight.

The next it was gone, and out of my sight.

,Jt was soft and warm, just like the sun,

Then suddenly cold, my dearest one.

The only way it's not the same,

Is summer comes back, and you'll stay away .

Connie Moore, '89

11

The feel of the cool breeze against my face felt good. The sound of the skiis cutting across the blinding white snow was refreshing to my ears. There was only me speeding down the mountain, challenging it, daring it to beat me.

I was fifteen when I first stepped into a world that would capture my heart. It was a world unlike others, a world of speed, skill, and challenge.

My heart beat rapidly as I waited at the top of the hill for my turn to come. Then as I slowly started down the hill my heart filled with fear, but my mind filled with determination. I was going to succeed. Before I realized what had happened, the skiis were gaining speed and I was racing down the hill. Panic covered my face and I fell into the cold, wet snow. Tears stung my eyes.

I had failed; the hill had beaten me.

I was too embarrassed and tired to get up. The beauty of the night had disappeared. The stars didn't shine as brightly, the moon seemed to be laughing at me, and the excitement that had been in the air now seemed to be suffocating me. I wished I were invisible .

As I was sitting there, feeling defeated, he stopped beside me. He didn't speak but his eyes encouraged me. They seemed to show understanding. His smile warmed my heart and I returned the gesture. With that he gave a chuckle and went on. I began to feel foolish. What was I afraid of? Others weren't mocking me or staring at me; they were supporting me. If I gave up now it would be accepting defeat.

Brushing the snow off my pants, I stood up and regained ray balance. Taking a deep breath, I started down the hill again. Slowly my skiis began gaining speed until once again I fell. The night continued with my attempts ending in cold, wet defeat, but each time I felt stronger and better than the time before.

The night was coming to an end and still I hadn't beaten the hill. I glanced at the hill marked Banzi. I wanted to beat that hill. Working my way over to the top of it, I stood staring toward the bottom. There was time for one more run and this was going to be it. Summing up all my courage, I dug my poles deep into the snow and pushed off down the hill. My start was shaky but my determination and concentration kept me from hitting the snow. I was now half way down the hill and going faster than ever before. The cold wind was burning my face but I was warm inside. The further down the hill I was, the more speed I gained. This time the run was different. I wasn't scared and panicy but instead I was feeling the sensation of freedom skiing could give you. The concentration it took paid off for the triumph I felt once I had succeeded. I had done it; I had challenged the hill and won.

continued . . . .

continued

The night was once again filled with beauty. The stars were winking at me and the moon was smiling with me.

Sitting in the warm lodge, I reluctantly took off my ski equipment. I turned where I was sitting and glanced at the hills which had freed me from my world. With a smile I strapped on my artificial leg and hobbled out to my car. Soon I would return to challenge the hills once again.

Renee Fairweather, '88

The Golden Chain

Once upon the sands of time Two lovers played a game.

With a vow of love forever They built a golden chain. . . .

With a love that saw no boundaries

Nor the foe crept in unseen

Or the tarnished links

Brought on by time

And a chain no longer clean....

It seemed so quickly broken And no longer held the strain There on the sands of time Lay a worthless golden chain....

With years of haunting memories That only God and lovers know The vow of eternal love Would not ebb its flow....

Then came a miracle

Again two lovers played a game

There on the sands of time

Was found a priceless

Golden chain

Dawn Benthin, '88

Carrie Whitney, '88

Hello, here I ami I know you see me.

Peek-a-boo ,

There you are,

I see you.

Hide and seek.

Don't tease, you kidder.

Here I am.

Look, over here!

See?

Here I am.

There you are.

Now we're together.

Stop playing games!

Here we are,

Together .

Hopscotch and jumprope.

You're playing again.

We're still together,

Having fun.

Isn't that what it's all about? Fun and games.

Shellie Littrel,

I sit here,

Thinking of you,

Of our future,

And wonder ....

How will we change?

Will you really love me?

I sit and wonder,

Of us,

And life.

It's too confusing.

I don't want to know....

Not yet.

I'll enjoy today, today, Tomorrow, tomorrow.

Not that I'm not curious,

I am.

I just can't know.

So, I'll accept that,

But.... I sit here ... .wondering .

'88

Shellie Littrel, '88

16

The Little Boy and the Pebble

Little boy's hands, tiny and precious,

wanting to touch all simple things in the world.

He knew of no danger.

The little boy stood holding in his little hands a pebble .

The pebble would not leave the boy's hands for they felt soft and safe.

"You trust me", the little boy said, "you will be safe and warm in my hands,

for the world is strange and unknown to me."

Since the boy told the pebble that he would protect it, the pebble would promise him happiness.

The small, gullible boy took the pebble with him, everywhere he went.

He would tell the pebble secrets and tell him about his dreams .

The pebble said, "You have kept me safe and warm - I said I'd give you happiness - wish upon me and your dreams will come true".

The little boy's face, pink and round, grew a smile.

He whispered into his hands where the pebble was placed. That night the little boy and the pebble went to sleep.

Quietly, the sun crept over the hills and shone in through the windows.

The little hands of the boy clasped tightly together, as if he were praying.

There lay the small boy - dead with the pebble in his ^little hands.

Katherine Main, '88

17

It seemed odd to me that anyone would call upon me at such an hour of the night, but what I saw out of my parlor window was not my imagination. I really should not have been awake at all but the pending storm had kept me up to read that evening.

What I saw on my cobbled drive was a black carriage drawn by two black steeds that were only a silhouette against the forbidding sky. I saw a man dressed in a black overcoat and a black top hat descend from the carriage. His attire did not surprise me, for it was the custom of the day. I had to go to the door myself because it was the help's night off.

I noticed that the man's skin was very pale as he stepped into my front hall. He introduced himself as B. U. Bexleeb. Later, he told me that the B. U. was for Benjamin Ulysses, but for now I was intent on discovering the purpose of his visit. He informed me that he too was a collector, similar to myself. At this point, I asked to take his coat and hat but he refused, saying that he would only be a minute.

I showed Benjamin into my parlor and told him of my evening's activity because of the possible storm. Soon we were on the subject of my collection of antiques and rarities, which I understood was the purpose of his visit. One thing he told me struck me strangely. When I asked him kow he chose the things to put in his collection, he answered me with a far away look, stating that it took a great deal of thought and soul searching to find the perfect items.

This statement caught me off guard and I dropped my book to the floor. He leaned to pick it up for me and his top hat fell also. To my horror it revealed two small horns on his head. I floundered backward with fear and fell into my easy chair, seeking shelter. He only smiled as I asked him why he was really here. He l»aughed and said, "Why, I have come to collect you!"

Ben Auliff, '88

19

20

Lonely

Sad

White walls Unclean rooms Bars

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P

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a

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You , . ,

Prom the rest of the world.

Being treated like children when you re

actually grown up. is this what your dream decided to kill?

was when you

Tammy Damron, '88

Remembrance

You are but a remembrance now, though once you were reality.

Once there was fulfillment, now the feelings are lacking.

Once we walked hand-in hand, becoming one.

Now as I walk alone,

I stop to think of how it would be, if we were still as one.

You are but a remembrance.

Nikki Carr, '89

The little boy found what his mommy used to liqht the long white roll of tobacco leaves. it fascinated him, the little flame that stood for warmth and

i t f wnu f h " m But.the Httle boy did not realize that soon it would mean danger.

in for * while' finally succeeding

m making the flame dance like his mommy did. But it

f lame°° l!0t' and he dr°PPed the threatening

ame. The little boy saw the room dance like the

th2t1Lroame* ^5ied for help. The book of matches that were once in his reach were now swallowed up by the

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felt someone jerk him out of the shack and he elt the cool air. He saw his mommy crying.

.. 4_Batjr' . the little boy heard his mommy talkinq to the tired firechief who explained the cauje of the f?re She cried once more. e*

Kelli Hoag, '90

Pride

w.ifr.5aJkin?KUpfct0.the Platform' 1 stood shivering as I waited for the tram. As I waited, I noticed a stranqe

familv^o Se^-°n 3 large St6el bench' m°tioning his family to join him. His face was haggard and

weather-beaten, his eyes a listless blue that shifted

weanly from face to face. His clothes looked as if

"threadbfrenCeH?ce^made °f 9 fine raaterial hut were now v™ * *H dingy/ gray coat hung in folds on his

ony frame, frayed and patched in spots. His fingers

aKd h5 ruffled the hair °f a very sman boy

who had clambered up into his mother's ample lap.

suitcase %£ • °th?!.thrfe ^ildren sat three small used ' their multi-colored surfaces patched and very

mv interpT'V^ ®hifted lazily to now aware of

his hlrl fnA U* se.nsed my pity' he straightened

his back and lifted his jutting chin proudly.

nnHHoHhf ll?^I rain stoPPed' and I smiled at him and

J ,a P°llte greetin9* My pity was vanishing to be *lth respect. Although this man was poor and

Ke 6SS;-he h9d kept his pride' as ^ he were

tne richest man alive.

Tracy Kirby, '90

An Autumn Stroll

I stood silently in the dark shadows near the door. A typical autumn day calls me, pulls at me. I step outdoors to hear leaves rustling quietly and birds faintly singing in the background. There is a distinct fall taste in the crisp air. A slight chill envelops me .

The cool grass below me tickles my feet, and the beads of dew congregate on my pant legs. The clouds above me meander about the sky. Somewhere I can smell summer flowers as they cling desperately to life.

Ambling to the playground, I pause momentarily to study the children at play. Their loud and boisterous behavior reminds me of my own days as an elementary student .

I now search for human company to share this pleasant experience with me.

I wander aimlessly for a long while, reveling in the splendor of an autumn morn. As I am almost to the campus, I spot my favorite tree to the left. It's been a while, I think to myself. I slowly approach the comforting overhanging branches, and as I do so, a girl's tears sting the silence. They bring back memories for me. Many a time I had come to this spot seeking compassion, aloneness, anything to make me feel better .

I observe from a distance a young girl sobbing there. For some reason she looks familiar, yet she remains foreign to me. As she turns to face me, I am shocked by what I see. The girl is pretty, petite, with dark hair and large blue eyes. But this face is anything but strange, for I am staring at myselfl Slowly I turn to retrace my steps home.

Jami Van Ryswyk, '90

23

Preguntas del Corazon

Al sentarte y pensar, al^sonar y esperar de lo que sera, al, mirar y esperar los dias mejores, dejas pasar los dias mejores.

Al sentarte junto al telefono, nada pasa y estas sola. Esa persona especial no^llama, tu corazon se esfa hundiendo, tu mente esta pensando. <<Esta enamorado o esta solamente jugando? jCon quien esta y cual es su nombre? Ay, si pudiera parar esas preguntas locas del corazon .

Questions of the Heart

Do you ever sit and think, dream and hope of what will be, watch and wait for better days, let the good ones slip away?

Do you ever sit by the phone, nothing happens, you're all alone? That special person doesn't call, your heart is thinking, your mind is thinking. Does he care or is he just playing games? Who's he with and what's her name? Do you ever wish you could stop those crazy questions of the heart?

Melissa Grimes, '87

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Feeling the warmth of the sun,

I smile at you.

We take a walk to share a special time alone - talking of the past, looking to the future.

This place we have come to gather our thoughts.

Katherine Main, '88

A Difficult Moment

Today a strong feeling makes me write about how difficult it is to change from one place to another, without your family, and I want to tell you about my experience .

A year ago I was walking along the street in my town ( Mi ramar-Puntarenas-Costa Rica), when someone came to me. This person was the principal of my school. He said, "Tavo, I want to know if you would like to participate in a foreign exchange program to the U.S.A." I didn't have words to tell him how excited I was. I said "Yes, I will do anything to get in this program." He said, "You just have to attend a seminary. Your grades give you the opportunity to get into the program. "

Well, those days were the most exciting days in many years of my life and I still remember like yesterday the day that I got on the airplane. It was a very difficult moment because I was very happy coming to the U.S.A but at the same time I was sad because I was leaving my family for seven months.

Now the time is coming to an end and I have almost the same feeling. I want to cut my body in two pieces and leave one here and send the other one home.

Therefore, I can tell that it is a difficult moment .

Gustavo Vargas, '87

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A Social Worker's Point of View

As you sat alone, afraid, shy, and hurt, I felt it in my heart to be your friend, a friend that would protect you, show you some fun times and comfort you in a time of sadness.

I felt it as a duty to stand up for you, fight for your rights and justify your actions. And as time went by, I saw you develop into a wonderful human being. And it was then I realized I had accomplished one of the greatest tasks in the world.

Tammy Damron, '88

Carrie Whitney

You're a Friend to Me

I feel now I can call you friend,

And now see why it had to end.

I understand the reasons why

Our short time together had to die.

I have no regrets, I have no pain Although I wish it could be the same.

I think we may get another shot,

But whether we do or not, .

I will remember the times we ve spent, The times of fun and embarrassment.

I hope you can look back and see Our good times, like they used to be.

I hope you can see what I mean

when I say for now, you're a friend to

Connie Moore, '89

Love of Lies

If there's one thing you said that stuck in my mind,

It was when you told me you hated lies.

cQ t never did to please you*

oSst to find out later you felt you must.

in the beginning I was open with you.

I told you I knew of the bad that you do. you said that you did, but that you had quit.

I thought you were honest.

From then on we were finished.

You hid it from me, and now I see

Our love was a lie, it was bound to die.

I wanted you back, but now I don t.

Live with your lies, for now I won t.

Connie Moore, '89

27

Misty Morning

The rising sun barely filters through the trees. Their tall branches shadow all beneath them. Frost hardens the ground, and breaths freeze in the cold morning air.

Mist surrounds the stream, gurgling merrily, laughing at the cold that is unable to freeze it as it dashes a long. A fallen tree forms a bridge across the rushing water, but icy bark covering its surface renders it impassable.

The trees tower upward, higher and higher until their tops disappear in the valley fog. The dirt path doesn't stir. The humid air bogs it down.

People stroll through the forest bundled in heavy layers of clothing. Afraid to raise their voices, they whisper in the hushed atmosphere of the wild.

Animals are preparing for hibernation.

Occasionally an over-stuffed squirrel is seen tiredly scurrying along. The first really cold night of fall has ended, and another misty morning begins.

Janeen Heiman, '90

Do you realize how much you've helped me through? After all those times, do you?

Of course, you didn't know I was (bummed).

No one knew.

A lot of times, I didn't know!

Just to hear your voice picked me up.

I would call feeling great and you brought me higher. You've helped me so much!

To see your smile brought me happiness.

When I'm happy and you're happy, I'm happiest.

We smile, laugh, cheer everyone up.

Even with the worst, we try to be best.

And you brought me higher than anyone could!

Thanks !

Shellie Littrel, '88

28

Reading Is .

Reading is going through a book for secrets you're hoping to find.

It's adventure,

horror ,

sadness ,

happiness ,

imagination going wild in your mind.

Reading is chapter after chapter of excitement,

shock ,

sorrow,

laughter .

So look in a book.

You'll surely hook

the imagination captured inside.

Jeff Gates, '88

Alone

The walls of the empty family house soaked in all the children's voices and laughter.

Now it soaks in your inconsistent breathing, and the the tick tock of the antique grandfather clock.

The motionless shadows and your reminiscence of the children's noise haunts you.

You sit there and wonder if this house will ever be young and hold a child's laugh again.

Kelli Hoag, '90

29

30

Fragile Wings

Like a butterfly I wish to be free to fly alongside you

Yet some butterflies wish to be caught not pinned in a book for all to look at only or placed in a glass cage with limited freedom but captured in spirit touched on the wings for the barest instant

You must'nt grasp tightly the fragile wings and body might be crushed never to fly on trust again

Janeen Heiman, '90

Free Spirit

The dust sticks to my pants

people turn and whisper as I walk by Mothers hide their children

in their skirts until I pass Rough and tough men glare

stepping aside all the same I flirt with death walking these streets Unjust hatred but hatred still is the cause I need to get away from accusing faces Seeing horses tied nearby

I leap on untying as I spun to life Flipping loose dirt from under her feet we fly away from city limits and men's problems

Riding all night we rest in the desert beneath the clear starlit sky I plan to die here

horse at my side away from human pettiness My bones bleaching in the sun

after the scavengers pick them clean My spirit free with the wind at last

Janeen Heiman, '90

Tracey McGinn, '88

Sea Reflections

Sunlit dawn,

Ripples of light,

The sun gazes down,

On this beautiful sight.

Fisherman in the harbor.

The cool breeze blows,

Life is intrigued by this glowing sight,

But soon will be covered by the foggy moonlight.

Lesley Hamilton, '90

One of my favorite things to do is play soccer. Soccer is an exciting sport because it's a different sport from when you're watching it and when you are playing it. Off the field you see all the action and roughness that is going on. While you're playing soccer you don't really notice all the action and roughness, but it's there. While on the field you play a sequence of minutes without rest and you become tired quickly. During the game many players quip at you to make you mad. If you do lose your temper and trip someone, the referee will have to arbitrate the call. Sometimes the goalie receives the most drastic punishment by taking all the shots on goal. I've seen goalies quiver before the ball was shot at them. Whenever a goalie and another player get tangled, one ^ always comes up feeling giddy. Soccer is great if you know how to play right, because if you do you can play rough but still look good.

Chris Nevenhoven, '90

33

On the Pier

Even though it's summer, the cold air blowing off the ocean penetrates my wool sweater. Strolling along the wooden sidewalk, my new snakeskin shoes make a clip-clop sound that warns the seagulls I'm too close.

Boats on the bay sound their fog horns, perpetually calling and answering each other.

Noisy vendors' voices reach my ears as they tell me of their marvelous items. The pretzel vendor is most enticing to me. His machine makes a delightful smell that attracts hungry people from everywhere. The doughy, salty pretzel sticks to me teeth as I quickly devour it.

Seafood shops sell their fresh cathes of putrid smelling fish that taste wonderful. The raw fish and clams just brought in from the sea sit arranged in clear glass cases for all to look at.

I head to the edge of the walk and lean on the railing. The hypnotizing icy gray waves that crash against the pillars supporting the boardwalk hold all of my attention for a while.

Suddenly, a person piloting a bright red jet ski pulls me out of my trance. Swerving perilously close to boats, he dodges in and out of waves to the delight of an audience by the railing. As he roars closer, I observe his tight, shiny black wet suit protecting him from the cold water. His dark hair stands out from his head in spikes, and his face is full of fun from his capers .

People on the pier pause to watch the semi-death defying stunts he performs on his ski.

Bouncing as the waves knock him about, he makes a sharp turn seaward. I lose sight of him for a minute, but then he reappears, racing back again at high speed. He laughs loudly and splashes waves that just miss all of us on the pier and zooms off to find another audience elsewhere .

Moving on again, I notice a group of adults seated on a cluster of weather-beaten rocks. They have a hard time enjoying a picnic lunch from a brown wicker basket, until a few of them consent and share with the pudgy birds that beg on the outskirts.

Further along the water's edge more vendors pedal their wares. I stop to examine some shining golden jewelry that sparkles when I try it on. Another salesman shows me his multi-colored sweatshirts that advertise Sausalito in all its glory. I leave him explaining to a teenage girl why his shirts are the best in town.

continued

continued

Multitudes of birds are gathering to<3dler

tosses r0Ckti^.atNoie«anUng to'spoll her fun, I walk

“"“l group of children —f^ash^

followed by their father • .T°”"? * niltute or two.

yells at them to P^^/^round a Cornet, I see before Laughing at them as on a rQck to get a

me the (golden Gate how many people think

better view, I ponder abou f ancj how many

o the ^people^see^t0 a sC the*" "Shining Cathay to redo.- and a new life. , . ^ u.a.r it"s too crested

with fog! li°'l suddenl^ver^glad som4 ingenious person took time to build this monument.

"Being a Friend"

The ones I love, the t“"9S0^eJ(.d°;w Are so different now, like old to ne .

The kind of fun we used to have.

Has changed so much, from goo Srong', They understand how I feel it e+.r;!no

And can't understand why I am so strong. It hTts me to see them do these things.

I. want to take in all their pain,

To give my advice, and be here for them, Be l truefriend, and lend a hand Not force my opinions, only It all seems like the smallest task,

For what I get in return for it,

Are the closest friends anyone could ask.

Connie Moore, '89

35

36

The Mirror

Something that sees us Through good and through bad Sometimes the image is happy Though sometimes it is sad. It changes as we do Each time we move Each image it gives us Has something to prove.

It gives us a picture Of who we are It shows us our future But not very far.

Each one is different The images we see It shows me a picture Of how you see me.

Each look we steal from it Puts on a new face Each time we look In a different place.

Jeni Byer,

I'm sitting here, by the phone, waiting for the ring.

Listening to the radio, sad songs are all they sing.

If we could have just one more night together,

I know we could make it last forever.

Just remember if you change your mind.

I will be here until the end of time .

'88

Dawn Burmeister, '90

Reflections of You

As I look out to the sea I reflect on the memories of you and me.

Infinitely thinking of the fun we've shared,

I stop and realize how much I once cared.

As I sit listening to the waves crash against the coral reef, I see flashbacks of us together, but only for a brief.

I'm still trying and trying to figure out what went wrong,

But it's hard to concentrate when I hear our special song. Each second goes on and I find it hard to say That I'm still the same person day after day.

But for now I must go on and try to forget

How much my feelings for you are now nothing meant.

Denise Hendrych, '88

Look to the west.

Look to the east In the dust

Smell the breath of hell. The knife is sharp.

The blood it flows.

The King is dead,

The Queen is sick.

The world is old.

The country new.

The people die At the hands of hell. Dreams they shatter Broken glass,

Cut your hand.

Tears of pain,

Fear of life.

But in the end Always darkness.

Robert McBride, '87

39

John Sailor, '90

Lonely Children

Think of all the lonely children. The world to them is filled With misery.

They mean no harm.

They ask for no food.

They ask for no clothes.

They ask for nothing.

Their weary eyes are dying.

There is no life found within them. Think of all the lonely Children in the world.

Katherine Main, '88

What is a Friend?

A friend is someone who cares,

Someone to count on when things are bad. They're there when you need them,

Through thick and thin.

They help you through those troubled men.

When things change and they don't care,

It's hard to hide the pain you bear.

They've abandoned you and turned their backs. On the friendship that they used to pack.

I want it how it used to be.

The sharing, caring given to me.

So friend, dear friend, I need to know,

Why you want to let it go?

Melissa Grimes, '87

The Writer

Hands, rough and dry I pick up a pen Again I start

A short story I shall write

Katherine Main, '88

Why are you, you? Why am I, me?

Why are we. Us?

We are one.

Yet we are two. But who is who? How come I care? You let me.

Why do you care?

I don't know.

What will I do without you? What will you do without me?

I don't know.

Tell me.

I'd like to know. Please tell me.

I love you!

Too much. . . .

So much,

I do.

Shellie Littrel, '88

My Dying Friend

Why are you dying?

I do not know.

Do you hurt, my friend?

Yes, I hurt.

Are you afraid?

Yes, I'm very afraid.

I am sad.

Do not be sad.

Before you go I want to tell you That I love you.

I love you too. Now I must go.

He turns away.

Goodbye, my friend.

Katherine Main, '88

42

The Dream

Bestina was so lonely.

Misunderstood was she,

But determined.

She was a strong girl.

Bestina would not follow, but lead.

Life for her was not something precious; It was dark and sad.

Pain was set deeply in her wounds.

Tears salted - streamed down Her soft pink skin.

She sat in a dark, warm room - crying,

Because she feared

Reality.

Katherine Main, '88

You and I

Fate brought us together, that I can see.

You and I together, our destiny.

Two different people, yet so much alike.

We share the good times and bad That come up in life.

Life seems to be a merry-go-round,

Yet we stick together, side by side.

Knowing that we will be there for each other For the rest of time.

Becky Herrington, '88

43

Carrie Whitney,

88

Nature

Nature's creeping through me, animals, flowers and trees.

They all are standing by me in the deep dark forest.

They keep their posted eyes on me for they fear me in their land,

Since they'll always, always know,

Where the human race will stand.

Tammy Damron, '88

I look at you through the corner of my eye.

I love you so much I can't say goodbye .

You tell me you love me but then you don't.

Is it you can't or that you won' t?

Karen Brotherton, '88

I lay out watching the wind rake the leaves and dump them in The neighbor's yard. I read my

book, whipping through the pages. I see it cutting off the dead limb on the oak tree and I hear it whistling at me.

Kelli Hoag, '90

Steve Madden,

Standing In The Dark of Night

The night is calm, no trees are moving in the wind.

I stand here alone in my dress, waiting for you.

I find it very fascinating to watch the clouds moving away from the moon.

The moonlit sky shines down on me. The snow just turned into a million diamonds, glistening in the light.

The moon fades and the diamonds are gone.

A breeze passes by.

I can feel my hair move and my dress sweep across my legs.

I look down at my watch and my eyes search through the darkness, looking for you again. Tick, tick, time is passing away. It's almost time for the sun to rise above the horizon.

I close my eyes feeling in my heart the fear that you won't show and we will never be together again.

Then I hear the snow crackling in the distance.

My eyes fly open and my heart is beating fast.

Is it really you?

You, the man I love, coming back for me?

I can see your smile and your arms reaching out for

me .

The stars are fading and the sun is coming upl

I take your hand and you put your arms around me. They are so warm and feel so safe.

Our lips touch gently and I hope this feeling lasts forever.

Are we really back together?

You take my hand and we walk through the snow, hand in hand, over the horizon.

Dawn is here, the colors shadow your face.

I wake upl You're gone! Was it just a dream?

My heart feels broken. Then I look down at my hand, and your ring is back on my finger.

I know it will stay this time . forever.

Dawn Burmeister, '90

47

48

I hunt pheasants.

I have always hunted pheasants.

Some I get, some get away.

As I stalk through the bushes,

I watch the dogs, the sky,

And the bushes themselves.

At times I watch them fly from the bushes Like an executioner.

I feel I am a good hunter.

And I realize being a good hunter Means bagging whatever the season offers. And then begin again into the new season. Not forgetting any lesson learned And knowing that a new season Is just a chance to begin again.

I am a hunter, not unlike my father.

I hunt pheasants.

Some I get, some get away.

Deon Smith, '88

Mountain Man

A rough cabin in the woods Housing a rough, rawboned man, Brushing shoulders only with men Such as himself,

Alone on his mountain top,

Surviving . . .

Mountain Man

Nikki Carr, '89

49

Connie Moore, '89

The Cows

Hear the moos from the cows - Big Cows!

Eating grass and roaming fields, How they moo, moo, moo,

In the noonday sun!

While the farmers overlook All the cows in the brook,

The farmers chatter with delight. Keeping time, time, time,

In a sort of mooing rhyme,

To the sounding of the hoofs From the cows, cows, cows, cows Cows, cows, cows - From the running and mooing of The cows.

Tricia Sebolt, '88

The Sunrise

As the rising sun forces me out of

bed,

I look out my window to see

brilliant colors.

Then a ball of light appears.

I am now awake and aware of the beautiful morning.

The light creeps upward, and fills my room,

And the last star gets lost in the light .

I take one more look out my window, and I see the birds and rabbits

looking, , .

Looking toward the east, watching a

new day appear out of nowhere.

Kelli Hoag, '90

VISITOR <£«» HOME

(Morvoteus MaScfrMs

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mpM

Angie Mason,

Feelings of State Bound Lady Lancer Fans..

Only one more game before we're state bound,

I think the SPIRIT is spreading around.

The resounding buzzer fills the gym with sound as the Lady Lancer Fans COULD be state bound.

The buzzer signaled for the game to begin.

We've just gotta' get that one special win!

Jenny, Tracy, Jamie,

Melissa and Pam,

all thinking ... I ' m starting,

I'm the best, yes I am.

The game started out slow, but picked up its pace.

Coaches Menke and Denner had smiles on their faces.

Then it was halftime, the crowd felt real good.

As far as state goes,

I think we COULD.

We were ready to put this game far behind, when the mere thought of state ran through our mind.

They scored, then we scored with not long to go.

Tonight's game has been a Spectacular show! !

The timer hit ZERO - We rose to our feet, as one more team must face Lancer defeat.

The resounding buzzer filled the gym with sound, as we Lady Lancer Fans....

ARE STATE BOUND!!!!

Angie Case, '90

53

Darin Smith, '88

Finally You Know

The hurt it never leaves the mind, when you love someone and then it dies.

It stays for keeps within the soul.

It never disappears, it just grows old.

The way I feel, my feelings for you,

I was scared at the thought that they had grew. Not knowing the answer or what to do,

I let you go, you never knew the way I felt inside for real.

You finally know jyist how I feel.

The secret is ours, between just us, of how I can say that I love you best....

Connie Moore, '89

Late at night, can't sleep Sitting here, writing I don't want to,

I have to sleep I can't.

Thinking hard About different things Different people From all over I can't sleep

I wish my brain would shut off

I don't want to think

I need sleep

Anywhere, but here

That's where I want to be

I've been all over

Not quite, but I will

So, I'm still here for now.

I wish I could sleep

How can I love so many people

All at the same time?

I'd like to see them now So, why can't I sleep?

I just can't.

Shellie Littrel, '88

Trapped inside another person's body, there was no way for Caroline to escape. A smile grew long and wide as she sat in the pouring rain and watched it fall upon the streets. She laughed and laughed until he started to cry and scream with rage.

"Caroline, Caroline," screamed the women in white. "Caroline get up, you will get sick sitting in the rain!" She grabbed Caroline by the forearm and dragged her towards the dull, faceless house.

Caroline began to yelp as if it were a game.

"Rain, rain, rain," she sang. She started to twist and turn knowing that the game was over, pretending became reality.

Caroline was dragged into the house wet and unruffled. Then she fell to the ground sobbing.

"Quit acting like a baby, Caroline, get up," the women in white raved.

All the other children gathered around, some quivering, some screeching, some boasting on and on about nothing.

Soon other older people came into the room, all with great authority.

"It looks like Caroline needs a little medicine," one said.

"We'll have to carry her to the sleeping chamber," another remarked.

Caroline began to squirm even more, grasping and reaching for anything or anyone. She was so helpless, so dumb. She knew in this life she couldn't control her thoughts or her body.

Several older people grabbed her by her wrists and ankles. They quickly dragged her down a long, dimly lit hallway, until they came to a white square room with one window.

They tossed Caroline on to the bed and strapped her down leaving her helpless. Shining a light upon her face, they gathered around and began their work.

Long, wet tears streamed down Caroline's face, for she knew she was weak.

Caroline kept thinking of the rain. "So light and colorful, pretty colors. Rain makes me so happy," she thought to herself. Her eyes remained looking out the window. She thought about the rain again. "I want to be rain, I want to be beautiful and happy."

Her eyes grew heavy. They closed tightly.

There she laid in the white, square room, nothing of her own but the rain falling from the sky, splashing against the window.

Katherine Main, '88

58

Diez Dias

en Mexico - Primera parte - Oaxaca

Mexico, Mexico, rah rah rahl Este verano pasado viente y seis estudiantes con sus profesoras y sus famililias fueron a Mexico por diez dias. Fueron diez dias diverticion para todos.

Primero, el grupo visijto la ciudad de Oaxaca por cuatro dias. Una tarde habi amos viajado por diversion por siete horas.^, Estaba muy cansada cuando terminamos.

Mientra estabamos en Oaxaca, encontre a dos chicas simpaticas. Se llaman Gloria y Claudia. A nosotro^, nos irjvitaron a su graduacion y a la fiesta de graduacion el sabado. Pero nuestro grupo tuvo que salir la proxima mariana. Angela, Kristina, y yo estabamos enojadas. Queriamos ir muchisimo.

En Oaxaca, Angela, Kristina, y yo compartimos una habitacion. La cama estaba en cemento. No era muy agradable, pero ^obrevivimos . Al principio lo que parecia cuatro dias largos, se pasaban pronto. Habiamos divertido mucho en Oaxaca.

Ten Days in Mexico - Part One

Oaxaca

Mexico, Mexico, rah rah rah! This past summer, twenty-six students with their teachers and their families went to Mexico for ten days.

First, the group visited the city of Oaxaca for four days. One afternoon we toured the town for seven hours. I was very tired when we were finished.

While we were in Oaxaca, I met two very nice girls. Their names were Gloria and Claudia. They invited us to their graduation and their graduation party on Saturday, but our group had to leave that morning. Angie,

,, Kristina, and I were mad. We wanted to go very much.

In Oaxaca, Angie, Kristina, and I shared a room.

The mattress was on cement. We weren't happy about it, but we survived. What had seemed like it was going to be four long days passed quickly. We had a great time in Oaxaca.

Michelle Petersen, '87

59

Ten Days in Mexico - Part 2 - Mexico City

Mexico City is a huge city. You are able to see the effects of the earthquake but there weren't many places that I saw that were destroyed.

Our guide's name was Helia. She was a great guide. She told us about the hummingbird. If a person gives you one, and you are a girl, boys will flock toward you. If you are a boy, the girls will come to you. The hummingbird must be dead and wrapped in red. I want one I

We were in Mexico during the World Cup (soccer). We met two guys from Germany. Their names were Rolf (Boris) and Michael. They were both good-looking and party animals. They invited us to a party for the Germans. It was fun.

We didn't party all the time while we were in Mexico City. We went to only one. We saw the National Cathedral.

It is a beautiful church full of gold. I can't describe it.

We visited the pyramids of the moon and of the sun.

Angie and I climbed to the top of each one! While we were climbing the pyramid of the sun, it started to rain. We were very cold.

We also saw the Shrine of Guadalupe. It was beautiful and incredible. The people have a lot of faith.

Our group had a lot of fun in Mexico City.

Diez Dias en Mexico - La Segunda - La Ciudad de Mexico

La ciudad de Mexico es una ciudad muy grande. Puede ver los efectos del terremoto pero no hay muchos lugares que yo vi que se destruyeron.

Nuestra guia se llama Helia. Ella era muy buena. Ella nos dijo del parajito de hum. Si una persona se lo da a Ud. y Ud es una chica, chicos vendran a Uid. Si es Ud un chico, las chicas vendran a Ud. El parajito (Tiene que estar) muerto y es rojo. iQuiero uno!

Estabamos en la ciudad de Mexico durante La Copa Mundial. Conocimos a dos hombres de Alemania. Se llaman Rolf (Boris) y Michael. Eran muy guapos y cran animales de fiesta. Nos invitaron a nosotros a la fiesta para los alemanes. Era muy divertida.

No fuimos, a fiestas todo el tiempo mientras estabamos en la ciudad de Mexico. Fuimos a solamente una. Vimos la Catedral Nacional. Era una iglesia muy bonita con mucho oro. No la puedo describir.

Visitamos las piramides de la luna y del sol. Angela Y yo subimos al cumbre de^cada una! Cuando, estabamos subp.endo la piramide del sol, empezo a Hover. Teniamos mucho frio.

Vimos tambien el santuario de Guadalupe. Era muy bonita e incredible. La gente tiene, mucha fe. ^

Nuestro grupo se divirtio en la ciudad de Mexico.

Michelle Petersen. '87

Ten Days

in Mexico - Part Three

Acapulco

From Mexico City, our group left for Acapulco. Acapulco is to the south of Mexico City. By plane it is forty minutes from Mexico City. It is not a long trip.

Acapulco is a very beautiful city. The water in the ocean is blue-green. Our hotel was on the beach.

The name of our hotel was the Copacabana. It was a large hotel and it had air-conditioning. Our hotel in Oaxaca didn't have air-conditioning.

While we were in Acapulco, Angie, Kristina, and I went "parasailing" . It was a lot of fun, but we didn't have our contact lenses in our eyes. We couldn't see! Angie almost landed on a bamboo hut. We laughed!

Angie, Kris, and I went on a glass bottom boat. It was neat and we saw a lot of tropical fish. We also saw a statue of Guadalupe. I want to see it again.

That night , part of our group went to a restaurant that had animals - like birds and a lion cub. The food was good and our waiter thought that he was very funny. He stole Angie's shoes. She wasn't able to leave because she didn't have her shoes. We had a lot of fun.

Acapulco is very beautiful, and I want to go again.

Diez Dias en Mexico - La Tercera Parte

Acapulco

De la ciudad de Mexico nuestro grupo salio para Acapulco. Acapulco estaal sur de la ciudad de Mexico. Por avion esta cuarenta minutos de la ciuded de Mexico. No era an viaje largo.

Acapulco es una ciudad muy bonita. El aqua del oceano es azul-verde. Nuestro hotel estaba en la playa. El nombre del hotel era Copacabana. Era uri hotel grande y tenia aire acondicionado. El hotel en ^Oaxaca no lo tenia.

Mientras estabamos en Acapulco, Angela, Kristina, y yo fuimos "parasailing". Era muy divertido, pero no temamos nuestros contactos de ojos en nuestros ojos.

No veiamos! iAngela casi llego en una Choza de bambu! Estabamos riendo.

Angela, Kristina, y yo fuimos en una bote con un base de virdrio. Estaba muy bonito y vimos muchos peces tropicales. Vimos una estatua de Guadalupe. Quiero ver la de nuevo .

Esa noche, una parte de nuestro grupo fue a un restaurante con animales - como parajitos y un leonito. La comida estaba buena y nuestro camarero penso que estaba divirtdo. Robo los zapatos de Angela. Ella no podia salir porque no tuvo sus zapatos. Nos divertimos mucho .

Acapulco es muy bonito y quiero ir de nuevo.

Michelle Petersen, '87

mgmmm

mm

Tracy Damron

Sometimes I'll be alone at night, and an image flashes across my mind of you,

I'll wonder where you are, and how you've been.

I'll wonder if you remember

the time we sat near the fountain snared our dreams

and

and

and

or the time

we kissed

lying on the grass under the And a tear forms in my eye

_ , i , f smile upon the memories. 11 feel it slide down my cheek and drop from my chin and that's when I sigh

and hope you felt it too.

trees .

Chris Noel, '87

Me is brown, Brown is me. Is me brown? Brown me is. Is brown me? Me brown is.

David Schneider, '87 David Martel, '87

63

She stood, looking out her window, expecting to see the setting sun. Instead her attention was drawn to the park across her house. She couldn't believe her eyes; she saw the whole incident.

She rushed downstairs to get a closer look at what was happening. By the time she reached the front door, the man was running to a car parked right in front of her. He looked up and saw her, he hesitated, got m the car and raced off. She was petrified. His stare had seemed to pierce her; she felt as though she were

paralyzed . ......

It took her a while before she noticed the small figure in the park. She slowly crossed the street and bent down. Turning the figure over, she saw it was a little girl who couldn't have been older than ten.

She picked up the limp little body and carried it into her house. She telephoned the police. She was asked her name and address, and in minutes two policemen were at the front door of Kate Jones.

One officer attended the little girl while the other proceeded to ask Kate questions, questions that she was afraid to answer. It wasn't the questions that scared her; it was the look in that man's eyes burning through her when she was forced to remember what she had

seen.

The little girl had been beaten up, but turned out to be all right. She couldn't identify the man who had injured her, so Kate became a major part in the

apprehension. , . .

She gave a description and from that a sketch was drawn. It took a while for the police to round up some suspects, but when they had, Kate was called to come and ■ • ■ man. It took all the courage she had the police station. She wasn't quite him to be there or not. If he was, so he couldn't ever hurt anyone again;

identify the right just to go down to sure if she wanted she could make it

and yet, she would also have to see his eyes again

Sharron Wood, '87

65

1

Red is the fiery blunder of the earth; Red is evil and your sinful ways.

Green is frogs and dogs and lima beans; Green is forever and always.

Blue brightens each and every day; Purple dominates my ways.

Feelings are expressed by colors;

Life couldn't exist without color.

Andrea Christopher, 88

67

Carrie Whitney,

88

To dance Is my life.

To love Is my life.

If dance and love could become one. The result would be you.

If life consisted of you holding me. In your arms as we dance To soft, magical music,

I would be sweetly satisfied;

For you are the music of my dance. You are the love life my heart.

You are my life.

Karen Carstensen, '87

Is there anything left when trust is gone?

I think not.

Relationships must have trust to last.

You may think your love is enough to last a lifetime,

But without trust, how can you go on?

If you have no trust, fights are easier, accusations become harsh.

Suddenly, you're no longer getting along.

Life with each other becomes harder and harder,

Eventually leaving you confused and worn out inside.

Sooner or later you'll realize

There's nothing left .

It didn't last .

It never does .

Cathy Hoeppner, '87

69

The Sea

A seagull's cry,

A breeze's sigh,

The warm, grainy sand

Sifts through my hand.

The salty tang spices the air As the waves crawl up In a playful dare,

Their foamy bodies roll Up and back, rise then fall,

With a continuous smack.

Now the pink sun sets into the sea.

And so ends this poem and the Day for me.

Beth Ketelaar, '90

Winter Meadow

The snow covers the ground like a white eiderdown quilt. Snowflakes fall like fragile butterflies to the bare, brown branches jutting from the tree trunks like bony fingers from a skinny hand. The silence is a calm pool where only an occasional bird call causes a ripple. The air is still and cool, its calmness washing over the deserted meadow as waves lap at the seashore. Can anything break the devastating calm?

A bounding white ball of fur in the guise of a rabbit is my answer. The skittish creature stops, sensing my enthusiastic curiosity, its fragile pink nose twitching as if surveying any danger. Satisfied of its safety, it continues on its journey, forgetting about an encounter with a human.

The pool of silence is still once more. The gentle calm of winter sleep falls again over the peaceful meadow, a magical wonderland that remains untouched by the hustle and bustle of civilization.

Tracy Kirby, '90

71

Jeff Lassiter, '90

Suicide

He promised he would still love me, when I woke he was gone.

I'll fix things.

To my family, I am simply a failure,

they are filled with disappointment. I'll fix things.

They tell me to quit drinking,

I know the damage is already done. I'll fix things, once and for all. Slowly I raise the gun to my temple,

I squeeze the trigger ever so gently... Things are fixed.

Celeste Lorenz,

So many times I've looked at you And wanted to Say that I cared.

The words just won't Be loud enough Although they Should be shared.

My mind is filled With thoughts of you.

Someday I hope my Dreams will come true.

Us, together Never to part,

Because if we did It would break my heart.

I know that there is happiness Wherever there is joy.

Why can't I find happiness Or even just a boy?

He doesn't have to be gorgeous Or even all that smart Just a boy to call my own For me would be a start.

'88

Jeni Byer, '88

■

Laurie Schroeder, '90

74

Reflections On An October Day

Walking home one October day, late after school, I observed a group of children playing in their yard.

They had formed a huge pile of autumn leaves under the swingset. I looked on with a smile as they climbed to the top of the swingset, jumped off, and landed in the pile of leaves, screaming and laughing. As I passed them, I waved and remembered my days as a young child.

Those were days spent learning how to ride a bike and coloring with fat crayons. Girls wore tennis shoes with a skirt and nobody thought it looked silly. We had parties at school on holidays and wrote letters to Santa. We wore pajamas with feet in them and slept with the closet light on. Those were days of bathroom breaks, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and learning how to whistle. We said the Pledge of Allegiance everyday and had show-and-tell once a week. Things were so simple. And then we grew up.

Suddenly things weren't so simple. We found out about terrible things like algebra and part-time jobs.

We entered the complex world of salaries, taxes, bills, loans, and financial aid. Things like relationships and peer pressure played with our emotions and self esteem. Life was further complicated with speed limits, college applications, and detentions. Things weren't so simple anymore .

As I walked on my way I thought to myself, "Kids are lucky." Later I realized that kids are smart, too, because they find so much joy in the simplest things and look toward the world with innocence and trust.

Christine Noel, '87

The Sunny Afternoon

Sitting in class, looking out the window,

I can see

the sun shining through. I thought to myself, what a long afternoon.

Katherine Main, '88

Love, Freedom, Happiness

Love is caring, sharing,

A relationship with two or many.

Freedom is somewhere else, distant, Far away, independent, by yourself.

Happiness is joyful, great.

Blooming with spring, bright colors.

Tammy Damron, '88

First Love

Why is it confusing,

this feeling that I have?

Sometimes I feel so happy;

other times I feel so sad.

My heart is like a roller coaster, going round and round.

Oh, why can't I control it, or maybe calm it down?

My life was so much easier before I fell in love.

But now all these emotions

please help, oh God above.

Teresa Longlett, '89

76

La Vida

La vida es diferente, es dificil de entender, es imprevisible , y es confundida.

La vida esta emocionante, esta divertida, esta remuneradora , y esta confundida.

La Vida,

es buena, o mala? vale la pena vivir o no es confundida?

Pues es la vida, de veras tan mala como parece?

Life

Life is different, it's hard to understand, it's unpredictable, and it's confusing.

Life is exciting, it's fun, it's rewarding, and it's confusing.

Life ,

is it good,

or bad?

Is it worth living or not?

Is it confusing?

Well is life, really as bad as it seems?

Kristina Johnson, '87

77

Jason Ploog, '90

78

At The Seashore

in the late afternoon sunshine, a small child runs toward the ocean. Yelling for her mother to hurry up, the child drops her blue plastic bucket and red shovel. Eagerly she wades into the freezing cold water. Her golden curls frame her rosy cheeks and crystal blue eyes. Her faded, red bathing suit shows many days at

the beach. .

Piercing the air with a high pitched screech, a hungry seagull hovers near the child. The rumble of the ocean waves echos throughout the beach.

The child runs out of the water, leaving small footsteps soon erased by the ocean waves. She wanders over to a group of wild flowers. Their sweet smells filter the air. She picks a few for her mother.

The sound of the ocean lures the girl back to the water. Dropping the flowers, she slowly walks toward the ocean. She stops and looks at the vast amount of water before her. A wave splashes onto her bare feet which sends a tingling sensation up her spine.

Hypnotized by the ocean, she wades deeper into the water letting it cradle her like a baby. Ignoring her mother's frantic calls, she wades deeper into the ocean. Like a powerful force, the child slips into the ocean s

grasp.

Linda Schmitt, '90

Night

The sun goes down, it's now another night. The dark blue sky, the shining lights,

The whispering wind, the "who" of the owl. The chirping of the newborn swallow,

The constellations so big and bright,

The hunter who won't give up the fight,

The falling stars,

The cold brisk air,

The night's aroma so clean and fair.

Tammy Damron, '88

mmm

James Eckhart, '90

Racing Under The Sun

Tires screeching on the hot cement.

Burning rubber smells of smoke.

Down the weary road Eighty miles we burn up...

Racing under the sun,

A dark red car made in 1952 Slowly makes its mark.

Ten blonde boys pile in.

"Race until you reach the end of the highway. Whoever falls the fastest off the cliff Is the winner," they say.

Katherine Main, '88

Life

Life is very confusing.

Parents are too protective.

Older brothers are too bossy. Older sisters are too mean. Younger brothers and sisters Are spoiled and are brats!

Life is so complicated.

You don't know which way to go or which way to turn.

Dawn Benthin, '88

81

82

All the Wrong Reasons

irtJ?frtt? hid! fr°m 311 the Pain'

tried to make it go away.

The oourse 1 used was close at hand.

, h.I,tlpfed the bottle again and again,

I had not a worry, i had not a carl Feeiing nothing, lighter than air.

Later I woke, it was all back

^t^eellK9SJ°f hurt' 1 tried to forget Looking ahead, i saw closed doors.

I wanted my source, more and more.

Thebkindenfnf°^Seri°n' my closest friend, The k?nH rf friendshlP to never end.

The kind I never need defend.

But also the kind that cannot mend....

Connie Moore, '89

Jessica

You are special in a lot of ways

You were our Christmas present - Our new member to love and cherish.

Some say you are spoiled or will be But you are just loved a lot. '

You came early

But for you, early was not too soon.

Ann o-iW^S*a -*°y when you looked up And, smiled for the first time. P

When you grasped my finger And laughed, i felt joy.

Rm- flhere may be more nieces after you. But to me you are the most special Of them all.

Remember, when you get older.

You will always be The most special of all the rest.

Carrie Weidenhamer, '88

83

Vida

It has its ups and downs.

It makes you laugh and cry.

It makes you smile and frown.

It makes you happy and sad.

It makes you feel wonderful and terrible.

It makes you loved and hated.

It makes you desired and rejected.

It makes you pretty and ugly.

It makes you interesting and boring.

It gives you heaven and hell.

It bears you and kills.

It is the one and only LIFE I

Angie Baker, '87

Stacie Wilkins, '89

Vida

Tiene lo bueno y lo malo.

Te hace reir y llorar.

Te hace sonreir y gruncir el ceno.

Te hace alegre y triste.

Te hace sentir maravilloso y terrible.

Te hace amor y odiar.

Te hace desear y rechazar.

Tiene lo bonito y lo feo.

Te hace interesar y aburrir.

Te da cielo e infierno.

Te lleva lo para y lo mata.

es la una y sola vida.

Angie Baker, '87

The Shining Light

The clouds slide across the sky, while the moon moves in and out between them.

A light is shining.

The wind screams wildly around the house; whirling leaves begin flitting through the grass.

A light is shining.

The storm is drawing near as the rain pelts down on the churning sea.

A light is shining.

The storm crashes down, beginning its destruction.

A light is shining.

The waves crash on the barren rocks; the sand is lifted.

The light still shines.

As dawn breaks red-gold against a misty blue sky, the waves cease their terrified churning, the wind

stops whistling, and .

The light stops shining.

Nikki Carr, '89

Memories

Pain, foreshadowing my tears,

Sweeps over my soul as I remember Our first moments.

As I relive our last.

Our time together was spent In many wonderful ways.

I'll never forget those moments,

I've stored them away in my heart.

Someday we'll be together again, Reliving memories and making more,

But until that day -

I'll live off the memories we've made!

Kerri Foster, '88

The moon shone bright On a crisp winter night.

Children wrapped up tight,

Watched snowflakes fall by the campfire light.

Amy Lindle, '88

The First Snowfall

It was late November when it started. The sky was letting go of millions of snowflakes. They used the sky as a roller coaster - coasting down every which way; some having parties on parked cars, some meeting new friends on the ground, and others dancing on window panes, inviting the children to come out and play with them, while still others hitched rides on the eyebrows, eyelashes, hair and noses of people walking.

Later when the children came out to play, the snowflake gangs on the ground formed snowballs, flying through the air like birds, and slapping the children in the face. Then some helped the children make snow angels - making sure that everybody was in the right place to insure a perfect angel. The ones by the sidewalks and steps played lifeguard to protect the children when they fell.

The snowflakes had a nice winter; they even had new friends join them. But now it's getting hot.

Eventually all the snowflakes will melt and evaporate. Then they can look forward to next winter!

Carie Brannam, '90

87

88

Home Sweet Home

Jimmy brought his small suitcase out from underneath the bed. Using all his strength, he lifted it onto his bed and unzipped it. He put in his football, his stuffed animals, and his favorite matchbox cars. He zipped the suitcase back up and pushed it off the bed. He walked down the stairs, dragging his luggage behind him.

He was running away from home. His mom wouldn't let him play at John's house, so he was going to leave. His mom was in the kitchen making dinner. Jimmy said to her, "I'm going to Tim's house and I'm not coming back." Tim was his cousin and Jimmy knew that they would be nice to him. His mother waved goodbye.

Jimmy stepped out the back door into the warm summer sunshine, still dragging his suitcase behind him. It was only four blocks to his cousin's house. Walking down a back street, he saw a group of kids playing tag. He walked over and joined in. He played with them for a while, and he was very proud of himself because he had only been "it" twice in the whole time he had played.

He continued walking toward Tim's. When he was only about a block away, he stopped to pet a scruffy stray dog that was sitting by the side of the road. It was a very friendly dog and he played with it for a few minutes. When he got up to keep going, the dog followed him. Finally, he arrived at his cousin's house. His aunt opened the door for him. "Your mom told me you would be coming," she said.

The dog wouldn't leave, so, since Jimmy knew his aunt wouldn't let him keep it, he tried to sneak in the door without letting the dog in. When he got inside, his aunt offered him dinner. "You must be hungry after your long walk," she said.

"What's for supper?" Jimmy asked, walking over to the table.

"Liver!" his aunt replied.

Jimmy's eyes widened. "I think I have to go home now," he told his aunt. He got up, grabbed his suitcase, and ran all the way back home, the dog still following. When he got there, he was welcomed by his parents .

"We're glad you're back!" they said.

As Jimmy and his new dog went out to play, he decided his parents weren't so bad after all; and he even got to have spaghetti for supper!

JoDee Brandon, '88

The Patient Fisherman

Faint morning winds outrace me as I look upon my surroundings. The birds let their voices flow. The pine trees exhibit their sweet smell. Waves gently churn in the lake below. The distant sun reflects off the water and blushes my skin.

Below me the waves are flowing in their rhythmic pattern and splashing against the rocks. The fish are swimming. Their smell emerges upwards towards me. I can picture the fish dipped delicately in the tasty batter.

I look around some more to see the small boats meander across the lake. One boat directly catches my eye. The little fisherman sits patiently in his boat. His pole is erect as the line dips in the water. His eyes wander while he waits for the line to jiggle. The expressions on his face show thought and wisdom.

Silence from his tiny boat expresses his appreciation for fishing.

The beautiful landscape encircles the big house behind me. The enormous hills slope. Trees shine with color. Drifting boats float on the gleaming water. The sun shines. Winds combine scents. Nature, of all forms, seems to exist only here. I smell the sinful scents of the blooming flowers. They explode with vibrant colors.

As I look across the lake, the patient fisherman that had no catch is getting one now. His pole is flexed between the war of the man and fish. Pulling with all of his might, he nabs the fish. He brings the net to hold his accomplishment. His face is held proud with pride. The air is filled with glee.

I realize now how little things can make people happy. You should not take for granted these little things. The air again sweeps through me as I watch .♦the fisherman leave.

Susan Dobbe, '90

90

Alone On The Beach

Standing on the beach Alone am I.

The tide flows toward me.

Gray and blue is the sky.

My long, dark hair is brushing against my skin. Grasping my cold hands together,

I think of nothing but the sky.

The time is mine;

My time alone.

Katherine Main, '88

Alone

As I sit alone among a kind of my own,

I listen calmly, it's the sounds of night. Cold and weary I tremble with fright.

As I hold my dolly tight I whisper to her "good night."

As she dozes to sleep,

I try hard not to weep,

Remembering how mama Never held me tight.

Lesley Hamilton, '90

91

Connie

Moore ,

' 89

92

From the Air

From the air....

Everything is different, smaller.

The cars look like toys.

The land is a patchwork quilt.

I can see the whole city at the same time.

It doesn't feel like I'm moving so fast,

But the speedometer says 120.

It is a marvelous sensation to be a bird.... A mechanical bird.

		Del	Aire
Del	ai re . . . .	/
Todo es diferente,	mas	pequeno
Los	coches parecen	se r	jugue tes
La	tierra es un ed	redon de parches

Puedo mirar toda la ciudad al mismo tiempo. No me siento como estoy moviendo tan rapido Pero el velocimetro indica ciento y veinte. Es una sensacion maravllosa ser una ave.... Una ave mecanica.

Marni Mast, '87

A Town Lost Without Itself

A town full of pride is no longer taken.

Torn away are the ideas of the people, for they have destroyed it. Beautiful and young this place once was.

Its scarlet clouds gathered each day.

The land was rich and dark replenishing food for its children.

I see a town of people destroying themselves, laying down the ruins for generations to come, looking yonder to a future that is nowhere to be found.

Katherine Main, '88

Two people -

we can talk

in front of others

normal conversation

on one level

intelligently

but

both minds are on another level the same level much higher than the first and

on that level we are having a conversation only it comes out through the words we are speaking on the

lower level.

Double meanings secret jokes we both know.

A smile

here and there A look A laugh These things might give it all away

but we are

good

actors

and we can

cover

for

our

slips .

Under currents of meaning flow.

We

think alike .

Darcey Timmerman, '90

La Danzador

La

Danzador bailo sin la ayuda de un corografo Usando solamente su imaginacion Ella bailo" a la derecha y a la izquierda siempre ^ agraciada.

Quien fue esta danzador? Ella es una llama .

The Dancer The

Dancer

danced with no help from a choreographer. Using only her imagination she danced to the right and to the left always with grace.

Who is this dancer?

She is a flame.

Kristin Johnson, '87

Mark Anderson, '89

The waves crashed time and again on the sandy beach as I lay upon my towel, soaking up the sinuous sun's rays that spilled its spring warmth over Freeport. Through tinted shades I watched the activities around me. Parasailers fleeted majestically in the sky, water— skiers glided over the azure-colored ocean, people played football and frisbee and swam in the water. The tangy, salty air was filled with noise. Radios blared popular tunes, voices murmured, seagulls cried overhead. A native stopped by me to sell some pineapple and coconut. I selected a bag of chopped coconut and paid him.

Just as I sunk my teeth into the last piece of juicy, sweet fruit, a blue nerf football landed before my eyes, scattering sand everywhere.

Beth Ketelaar, '90

Dancing can be relaxing,

By yourself, or with that Special person In the dark, dense room Hoping no one will cut in.

Sweat is rolling down your face. Your body rubbing against others. There's hardly any space.

You feel you have the smothers.

Holly White, '88

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.

It is a matter of living.

The bird's in the oven.

All full of tender lov'n.

My stomach is growling,

I feel like howling

For tomorrow is Thanksgiving.

Kenton Birtell, '87

HAPPY

DAYS

Cuando estaba a punto de venir a los Estados Uni dos, tenia un poco de miedo por que no sabia como iba a ser mi vida aca. En Peru y en Sud America en general, ( pensamos que la gente de los Estados Unidos, es muy fna

o antisocial. ,

Cuando llegue, me sentia extrana, En el aeropuerto

me esperaban Don y Patricia Wiest, la familia con la que iba a estar. Yo estaba muy nerviosa, y ellos tambien. Cuando llegue a casa. Dawn nos abrio la puerta, y me choco un poco que no nos saludamos con un beso; en Peru y Sud America, las personas se saludan con un beso; yo sequTa pensando que la gente aqui , era fria.

Al dia siguiente fui al colegio, Dawn me presento a sus amigas, y empece" a cambiar mi vision con respecto a las personas de aqui, sus amigas fueron muy amables conmigo, ademas yo me sentia mas segura porque habia hablado momentos antes con una profesora de Espanol ,

Sra. Volkman, y me brindo su apoyo.

Desde ese momento, mi forma de pensar con respecto a la gente de U.S.A., fue ^cambiando ; cada vez me sentia mas en confianza, y conocia mas personas.

Yo vine preparada para todo, por que aqui no nay las mismas costumbres que en Peru. Aqui la gente, especialmente las mujeres, son mas liberales, en Peru

perdura un poco el machismo.

Ahora me siento triste por que estoy a una semana de regresar a Peru, y tal vez nunca mas vuelva a ver a alguno de los tantos amigos que tengo en Iowa, quiero dar las gracias a los alumnos y profesores, por que en todo momento estaban dispuestos a brindar me su apoyo y ayuda en cualquier cosa que necesite. ,

Nunca podre olvidar esta etapa de mi vida, fue toda una experiencia para mi, una linda experiencia, y espero que se repita.

Por mi parte, voy a hacer todo lo posible por regresar algun dia, porque aqui encontre un hogar. que en Iowa tengo un papa, una mama y una hermana; todos solo me queda deciles;

Por

Y a

MUCHAS GRACIAS Su amiga de Peru

■

I

■

■

«

a

■

■

■

■

■

■

Cecilia, '87

■

■

I

DAYS

HAPPY

Before I came to the United States, I was afraid because I didn't know how my life was going to be here. In Peru and South America, in general, we think that the people of the United States are very cold and anti-social .

When I arrived, I felt foreign. At the airport,

Don and Patricia Wiest, the family with whom I was going to stay, were waiting for me. I was very nervous, as were they. When I arrived at the house. Dawn opened the door for us and it bothered me that we didn't greet each other with a kiss. In Peru and South America, the people greet each other with a kiss. Here they don't.

I began thinking the people here were cold.

The following day, I went to school. Dawn introduced me to her friends, and I began to change my opinion with respect to the people here. Her friends were very friendly, besides I was feeling more sure of myself because moments before I was talking to Mrs. Volkman, a Spanish teacher who gave me her support.

From that moment, my way of thinking with respect to the people of the U.S.A., was changing. Each time I felt more confident, and I knew more people.

I came prepared for everything, because here there aren't the same customs as in Peru. Here the people, especially the women, are more liberal. In Peru there is still machoism.

Now I feel sad because in a week I am going back to Peru, and perhaps I will never return to see some of the great friends that I have in Iowa. I want to give many thanks to the students and teachers, because at every moment, they were ready to offer their support and their help whenever it was necessary.

Never can I forget this stage of my life. It was an experience for me, a beautiful experience; and I hope that it will be repeated.

For my part, I am going to do everything possible to return some day, because here I found a home. I have a father, a mother, and a sister; and all I want to tell you is;

MUCHAS GRACIAS

Your friend from Peru

Cecilia, '87

Preguntas del Corazon

Al sentarte y pensar, al sonar y esperar de lo que sera, al mirar y esperar los dias mejores, dejas pasar los dias mejores.

Al sentarte junto al telefono, nada pasa y estas sola. Esa persona especial no llama, tu corazon se esta hundiendo, tu mente esta pensando. Esta enamorado o esta solamente jugando? Con quien esta y cual es su nombre? Ay, si pudiera parar esas preguntas locas del corazon .

Questions of the Heart

Do you ever sit and think, dream and hope of what will be, watch and wait for better days, let the good ones slip away?

Do you ever sit by the phone, nothing happens, you're all alone? That special person doesn't call, your heart is thinking, your mind is thinking. Does he care or is he just playing games? Who's he with and what's her name? Do you ever wish you could stop those crazy questions of the heart?

Melissa Grimes, '87

Feeling the warmth of the sun, I smile at you .

We take a walk to share a special time alone - talking of the past, looking to the future.

This place we have come to gather our thoughts.

Katherine Main, '88

Dan Whitcomb

Laurie Cawiezell