The Nittany cub. (Erie, Pa.) 1948-1971, November 23, 1948, Image 4

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    Center Comer
MY TRIP TO OBLIVION
Just a little past midnight, Jan
uary 16, 1948, the nice old man in
the white clad outfit arrived and
put me on his little cart; it seem
that the trip to the operating room
would never end. As he wheeled
me through the solemn halls of the
fourth floor, a small procession of
nurses formed in back of me. My
mind was going wild with thoughts
of what was about to happen, but
it soon started to get black and
hazy as the gas took effect. A
nurse held my hand and I knew
my nails were digging harder and
harder into the palm of her hand,
but I was scared and I couldn’t
help it. Then a parrot began yelp
ing, “Careful of the hole, it’s so
dark, so dark, so dark, so dark, so
dark/” I was looking into the hole;
the parrot seemed to be screech
ing louder. A nurse with a soft
voice was comforting me, saying
that everything was going to be all
right. But that parrot kept scream
ing, my feet wouldn’t stay still.
My feet were moving back and
forth;, slowly at first and then
very swiftly. A nurse held them,
but they still kept kicking. I had
to get away from there! What was
happening to me? I thought my
problem could be solved by dying,
but I was afraid to die. Why did
n’t something happen? That par
rot! If it would only stop yelling!
Then I was falling into the dark
hole and the parrot’s voice kept
getting dimmer and dimmer. The
next thing I knew, I awoke in a
hospital bed, and my mother, so
sweet, so tender, and so beautiful,
was watching over me. I knew then
I was safe. I knew then, too, that I
hoped as never before, that that
would be my last trip to the oper
ating room.
By Cynthia Loesel
BLACKOUT
A siren wailed in the distance;
shop whistles blew discordantly:
traffic drew to a standstill; the
glow of the city left the sky as
lights were snapped off and black
out curtains were hastily drawn in
preparation for the mock air raid.
In the darkened stadium eight
thousand spectators waited im
patiently for the “nonsense” to
cease so that play could be re
sumed in the game which was now
in its third quarter. The players
sprawled wearily on the grass,
thankful for the rest, while a gal
axy of policemen and air raid ward
ens, carrying red-masked flash
light's, filtered through the stands
in a vain attempt to stop the spor
adic match lighting by a few mis
chievous patrons. Indeed the crowd
seemed annoyed at the interrupt
ion instead of thankful that there
were no enemy planes over-head
raining explosives on them and
their homes. The band struck up a
march in feeble attempt to enter
tain the restless throng, but with
out music and with no director
they soon became hopelessly jum
bled and finally quit altogether.
After a few minutes of uneasy sil
ence the sound of sirens and shop
whistles again rent the still night
air, this time giving the “all clear”
signal. The stadium' lights blazed
on bringing a cheer from the aud
ience and a sigh of relief from the
harried policemen and air raid
wardens. The players jumped to
their feet, rubbed their eyes, did a
few “warm-up” exercises, and took
their positions on the field. The
lights of the city began to flicker
on in rapidly increasing numbers
until the sky was once again il
luminated. Horns sounded, motors
purred, and the streets became
alive with traffic. The blackout
“DEATH WHERE IS THY STING”
Have you ever wondered what it
would be like to be buried alive?
Well, you don’t have to be six
feet under to find out. An exper
ience like the one I had can give
you a fairly good idea. It happened
late one gray spring afternoon,
during one of my frequent visits to
my Aunt Ellie’s crypt in Pine
Grove Cemetery. The huge maus
oleum where Auntie rested was
shaded by two overgrown spruce
trees, which gave the doorway a
rather bleak appearance. I slowly
pushed open the full length glass
door and entered the dark, cheer
less building very quietly, for no
matter how often I went there,, it
never failed to bring out goose
pimples on my flesh. I tiptoed
down the dim passageway to that
familiar spot where Auntie’s re
mains were entombed, left the
flowers Mother had picked for her,
then made straight for the exit
and fresh air. I clutched the knob
with both hands in a quick attempt
to open the door, for by now I was
more than anxious to leave this
morose edifice. Then suddenly I
gasped as I saw the handle on the
outside of the door tumbling down
the steps and realized that I held
the other half of the broken han
dle. Terrified, I could not move;
my heart was pounding so heavily
that I faarly shook. Outside, the
caretaker’s daughter skipped rope.
I began frantically to beat the
door with both hands. The rattling
of the glass immediately attracted
attention. Off she dashed in the
direction of her ’home. Dusk was
beginning to fall, and I shivered
at the thought of the oncoming
darkness. Shakily I leaned against
the door and waited. Then sudden
ly I saw a hazy figure emerge out
of the darkness. With a grin the
caretaker carefully . replaced the
knob and opened the door. In a
moment I stepped quickly from the
tomb and breathed deeply of the
fresh night air.
By Rita Jackson
Winter Ski Run
Continued from Page 1 •
instructional area will constitute
the actual skiing grounds.
“Whether the main run will have
a tow is not definitely decided as
yet,” Ferguson said today. “But if
we don’t get a standard one such
as the Sweden Ski-Tow, we hope
to possibly set up some kind of
tractor tow which might be a lit
tle less expensive.”
Part of the land may be used for
the installation of a toboggan
chute, also. And it is hoped, in
time, that a touring or walking
trail can be lalid down to skirt the
entire southern and southwestern
fringes of the campus. There
should be plenty of room on the
400 acre estate.
All in all, the potential skiing and
toboggan areas will probably take
up most of the acres to the south
of the Center’s administration buil
ding and provide the students with
excellent facilities for this favo
rite wiinter pastime.
Compliments of
Erie YMCA
I Oth and Peach Sts.
ERIE, PA.
THE NITTANY CUB
“Flying Dean”
Visits Behrend
Center Campus
Snapped at Erie Airport by
photographers last week just after
landing after a trip from the main
campus was Pennsylvania State
College’s “Flying Dean,” George
L. Haller, dean of the school of
chemistry and physics, here to in
spect the new chemistry labora
tory at Erie Behrend Center. Ac
companying him was Dean Edward
Steidle of the school of mineral
industries. ■
Haller, who has used his Stinson
Voyager to coordinate more suc
cessfully his activities for several
years now, also has an experimen
tal plane which he uses for gov
ernment radar tests. Greeting the
deans was T. Reed Ferguson, ad
ministrative head of the new cam
pus here.
Speaking Just
For the Record
“Here I’ll Stay” (Columbia)
Buddy Clark sings a pleasant list
ening, slow and dreamy dancing
tune. The flip over is a bouncy
contrast by Mitchell Ayres.
“Bab, Won’t You Please Come
Home” (Capitol) One of the top
tunes by Jo Stafford. Another is on
the flip oyer side, “Trouble In
Mind.”
“Cherokee” (Capitol) A real hep
tune by Benny Goodman. You’ll
love the flip over, “Love Is Just
Around The Corner.”
“I’m In Love” (Columbia) A
bright conversational style of sing
ing by two of our favorites, Doris
Day and Euddy Clark. Doris sings
“It’s You Or No One” all by her
lonesome on the reverse side.
/.‘What Did I Do” (Columbia)
Fjavorite Dinah Shore sings this, a
slightly syncopated tune. She
sings “The Matador” with The
Brazilians on the flip over side.
Dean of Women
Continued from Page Two
through college and become
worthwhile individuals.
Teaching the boys, who went off
to war, and having them return
gave her a feeling which almost
seemed miraculous. Teaching the
veterans th? + have come back from
the war, seeing them taking ad
vantage of the G. I. Bill, and their
earnestness and sincerity with
which they attack their work has
given Miss Davis a completely sat
isfied feeling.
Her two great loves are music
and English. Being quite accomp
lished in music, Miss Davis plays
the piano, viola, and has had voice
Christmas Dance
Will End Year
Our Christmas dance on Dec
ember 16th, will be the last social
event of the year, and the Class
Officers, who are heading the com
mittee, promise it will be a very
special one. They are trying to get
Neil Charles and his very fine or
chestra to play for the dance, and
are also making arrangement to
have it in town somewhere Now
don’t forget to keep December 16
open in your date books for a swell
time at Behrend’s first Christmas
dance!
Beware of Dog
The command might not mean
much to us, but it means so much
to poor “Chen.”
“Chen is the little black cocker
spaniel who is always dodging in
and out, or under somebody’s feet.
He loves to chase arrows on the
archery court and a basketball to
him is “jolly” fun. He has taken a
great interest in music class and
finds Doddy Fisher’s lap the most
comfortable after trying everybody
else out.
If she doesn’t kill herself with
her ambunctious actions, she more
than likely will make many of us
a “dog”-goned good pal.
experience.
As Dean of Women, Miss Davis
takes a personal interest in every
one of her charges. Her under
standing of their problems and her
genial, warm personality has cap
tivated the entire student body.
The wonderful sense of humor,
which she possesses, has estab
lished her in the heart of every
Behrend student. Her friendly and
cheerful outlook on life can be at
tributed to her philosophy in life:
the good, the true, and the beauti
ful—Three words which she dearly
loves.
Frank Gatto
Best in Shoe Repair
WESLEYVILLE, PA.
Partial Shots at
Parts of Speech
Noun—What you call your girl.
There are proper nouns and com
mon nouns. A proper noun is
what yon introduce her to other
folks by. The common noun is
“Dear.”
Verb—What freshmen and
vers librists try to write sen
tences without.
Adjective—A word of richness
and vigor which must not be used
in polite society.
Conjunction—What you st all
around with when you don’t know
what to say.
Preposition—Favorite word for
ending a sentence with. Very poor
grammer. Use a period instead.
Adverb —What you use to split
an infinittive.
Article—Word of indefinite val
ue,depending on whether you -are
writing a telegram or a thousand
word theme.
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