North Carolina Newspapers

    Page 6
Friday, May 7, 1926
High Life
Published Bi-Weekly by the Students of
The Greexsboro High School
Greexsboro, X. C.
Founded bv the Class of ’21
Entered as Second-Class Matter at the
Post Office, Greensboro, N^. C.
M A X A C. E M e X T
Glenn Holder Editor-hi^Chief
Ivindsay Moore Business Manager
Ernest Williams, Asst. Bus. & Circ. Mgr.
Assocl\te Editors
Margaret Ferguson, Betty Brown
Carlton Wilder, Georgia Stewart.
Special Editors
Elizabeth, Rockwell, Mary Tilley, Paul
Wimbish, Marguerite Harrison, John
Mebane, Elizabeth Campbell, Henry
Biggs, Graham Todd, Weldon Beacham,
Hilda Smith.
J. D. McXairy, Claud Sikes, Fannie
Rockwell, James Clements, Marguerite
Mason, Nell Thurman, Louis Brooks,
Clyde Conrad.
Cartoonist Edmund Turner
Faculty Board of Advisers
Miss Inabelle G. Coleman Chairman
Mr. W. R. Wunsch Mr. A. T. Rowe
Mrs. Mary S. Ashford
A cut a day keeps graduation away.
Beloit, Kansas, B. II. 8. Life.
It is far better to have no glory than
to have glory and not to have humble
ness and respect.—Winston-Salem, N".
C., Pine Whispers.
One more month. We used to think
that ,we’d be overcome with happiness
when we finally got our diplomas and
bid the old school goodbye—in other
words, that G. H. S., was a good place
to get away from. But the prospect
doesn’t seem quite so good now. It’s
a pretty good old school after all.
If the Civitans ever showed good
judgment, it was when they awarded
the trophy cup for the greatest and
most unselfish service to Greensboro to
E. D. Broadhurst. Schools are the most
vital part of any community and Mr.
Broadhurst is the very life blood of
the Greater Greensboro school system.
The Daily News had to go beat us
to it and run Mr. Broadhurst’s picture
first. But they didn’t scoop us, any
G. H. S. musicians didn't corral the
largest number of points in the Music
Contest, but the Gildersleeve and Mil
ler proteges gave a good account of
themselves. Music is headed in the
right direction and goin’ strong at
Greensboro High.
The Mencken Mind is up to its old
tricks again. This time it is the journ
alist who gets cussed out. “Journalism
is a great club” says he, or words to that
effect, “whose initiation fee is the
member’s soul.” That explains it. We
thought the reporter who put that pic
ture of the seniors in the paper didn’t
have any soul.
We hereby consign all term papers
to the nether regions. “Term papers de
velop the research and selective in
stincts more than anything else,” quoth
the wise and learned pedagogue.
When the inter-club council awarded
the Civitan Trophy Cup for the most
conspicuous and unselfish service to the
city during the past year to E. D. Broad
hurst, they performed a real service for
Greensboro and Guilford County. For
too often it is that the men who are the
finest and who give the most of their
lives to the community, receive little or
no public recognition of their work.
Born in Wayne county, June 28, 1878,
Mr. Broadhurst was the sixth child in
a family of ten. Flis father. Captain
David Broadhurst, and his mother, Mar
tha Baker Broadhurst, were both well
educated, and they gave their chiidren
the best education that circumstances
would permit. However, educational
facilities were far less developed then
th; n they are now, and it was only
through the hardest of work on Mr.
Broadhurst’s part that he was able to
enter the University of N^orth Carolina
in 1896. He taught summer school while
he was in college, and this work, to
gether with other jobs that he had dur
ing the college sessions, enabled him to
make his wa}^ through and graduate in
1899. One of the accomplishments of
which Mr. Broadhurst is proudest is the
triumph of the University debating team
of which he was a member over Georgia
at Athens in 1899.
During the winter of 1900 Mr. Broad
hurst taught in the Greensboro public
schools. In 1901 he went to Thomas-
ville, Ga., where he organized the town’s
first public schools. The following year
he returned to Greensboro, succeeding
Mr. Grimsley as Superintendent of
Schools. In 1904 he returned to Chapel
Hill to study law. While there he taught
the English classes of the late Edward
Kidder Graham, perhaps the greatest
instructor Carolina has ever known, while
he was on a trip abroad. In 1905 he
returned to Greensboro and took up the
jiracticc of law, in which he has been
engaged ever since. He has always felt
keenly the crying need of educational
ojqiortunities for every child, however,
and has given almost as much time to
his work as a member, and later chair
man of the city school board, as to his
law practice. He has initiated a large
number of school improvements, includ
ing the recent creation of the Greater
Greensboro school district.
When we consider the hundreds, prob
ably thousands, of boys and girls, young
men and women, who now enjoy the
blessings of a good education, good cit
izens that might have been bad, through
the work of Mr. Broadhurst, we begin
to appreciate the tremendous influence
for good that he has exerted in this sec
tion of the country. He has dedicated
the best part of his life to education, the
greatest public work in the world, and
diis dedication has in turn brought back
to him a strength of spirit and loftiness
jf ideals and jiurpose that places him
;’mong the clouds, together with the hum
bleness of spirit that sets apart all truly
great men and makes them the most hu
man of human beings.
A remark made by Mr. Broadhurst to
one of his closest friends and comrades
one evening several years ago seems to
us to express the keynote of his life
purpose and the thing nearest to his
heart as no other words could. He had
been working harder than usual for sev
eral weeks past, in an attempt to have
the school board and its affairs removed
from the influence of politics. He came
in, tired to the point of exhaustion, and
dropped wearily into a chair. The friend
exclaimed, “Why, Edgar, you look the
tiredest that I have ever seen you look.
You’re working yourself to death!”
Mr. Broadhurst smiled wanly and put
his soul into the words, “If I die, tell
the people of Greensboro and Guilford
county that I wanted to live to build
one more school house for them.”
Springtime is probably the most
beautiful of all the seasons, the gayest;
and yet like everything else in life, it
has its note of tragedy. Here is all this
beauty, youth, freshness, purity that
belongs to the season; but to those who
ponder on what lies beyond the appa
rent reality of things there comes the
inevitable realization that it all must
grow old and ugly and in time pass
into complete oblivion. The Spring will
become Summer, and the color so
fresh and soft will lose its vitality
wilh the heat and cloy as the monot
ony deepens. And then in the fall—the
reason of death—there will come the
strange, unnaturally bright colors, lit
up, as it seems, in the moment of pass
ing. And( these, too, will fade—then
dinginess, decay, dissolution; and the
little cycle of life with its little comedy,
its little tragedy will be over; and we
will not even be sure it ever could
have happened were it not for the fact
that it will be repeated over and over
again in an endless chain of cycles.
But if we are young—and we feel we
are sometimes, in spite of the sense of
dignity and ancientness that responsi
bilities force upon us—we can forget,
forget that a century from now Spring
will be as meaningless to us as death
is today. Today we can revel in
the charm of Spring—the mystery of
Spring — the seductive promise of
Spring. Today we can wink at the si
lent shadow of death that lurks be-
And when it is all over for us,
whether we have “succeeded’’ as men
term it, or whether ours has been the
barren reward of failure, perhaps if
we are brave and have retained a small
portion of the utter confidence of youth
when youth and beauty have become
things foreigsi to us, we can laugh
there in the shadow of the unknown and
say, “It may all have been futile, tragic
ally wasted, lost forever—all these
years. It may have been nothing more
than a silly dream; an ironic joke of
Fate. And yet whatever it may have
been, it was worth while for just the
simple fact of having known and felt
the mood of one day, yes, one hour,
one moment of Springtime. * * ”
HER DREAMS, By Carltox Wilder
The dreams of youth for her are faded.
She’s left the fray, worn old and jaded;
Yet still she sees a future gleam ahead.
For o’er his tender scrawl deep-dreaming
Into her mind comes visions teeming—
Lives youth again in him when hers is dead.
Junior-Senior is over. With the ex
ception of the senior play and the reg
ular social activities which come with
graduation, 1he “joyous high school
days” of the seniors are numbered.
During the four years that they were
members of the high school cast they
l ave played their roles ably and with
honor. It remains for them to make the
last scene of the fourth and last acts
a success, to always be proud of, an
unspectacular but lasting climax to
their high school career.
This period may be called a period
of work and study. It is a period of
diligent apiilication. Like the runner
coming into the home stretch every
thing must be thrown into the running;
every muscle, every sinew must be
taut with the strain of the last hundred
yards. The determination to achieve
and to attain can only be measured in
work. Just before the last curtain the
thing that the audience waits to see
and hopes to remember the June grad
uating class of ’26 by is its work. At
this time work is in order.
In the whole complexity of human
emotion the w hole world of sensation
with its innumerable tiny flashes of
mysterious energy leaping in the dark
obscurity of our existence there is one
feeling that remains fixed, transcend-
ant from its very surety, inflexible as
he abstract ]irinciples wc suppose to
govern life. Temporarily the sensation
may be obscured by some of the ephe
meral emotions that flicker brightly for
‘ time in one’s life and then fade, die
out, disajijiear; but in the background
this one feeling remains ever constant,
burning until the last spark of one’s
consciousness has chilled and after all
other affections have lost their charm.
It is the first sense of relationship, of
affection we know—the love for mother.
And all through lifq it continues a
powerful factor in the determination
of our actions if not invariably a con
scious factor, at least a subconscious
one in all lives.
All the wise have realized this fact,
closely intertwined as it is with the
very meaning of life; and all the truly
great have acknowledged feelingly the
Lremendous debt they owed to the in
fluence of their mother’s life and her
great love for them. This debt can’t
:)e re])aid. 'I’he feelings of life cannot
be measured by the fixed principles of
amount and balance that we apply in the
commercial world. We could slave, and
sacrifice and struggle a thousand years
and never remotely axiproach a re-
jiayment of the love which our mother
bestowed on us in one simple, instinct
ive, little sacrificial action of hers.
But we must not dismiss this obliga
tion lightly, merely on account of the
impossibility of fulfilment. Remember
that while all we can do is nothing,
still it is all we can do, and as a conse
quence the thing we want to do. Re
member that day after tomorrow is the
day set aside, dedicated to the mother
of each of us; on that day of all days
we shall want to do something to make
her happy. And in our small, simple
action we will fulfill a part of the de
mand that life imposes on us to ex-
Xiress emotion in service; but the great
est result of our act will be that she
will exxierience something of the sin
cere stirring of x^leasure that comes as
the reward of simxile, unselfish devo
Rerhaxis you have heard the little re
frain ihat goes:
“Four more weeks and we ’ll be free
From this land of misery
No more Latin, no more French
No more sitting on hardwood bench.”
Yes, there are just four weeks more
of school. To some of us this means
that in just four weeks we will leave
Greensboro Lligh School forever and
will enter colleges, universities and of
Of course the thought of graduation
is x^leasant. It should be. Yet, with it
there also comes just a touch of sad
ness. Will we be free? From English,
I.atin, French, Math, and History?—
Yes, but we will also be free from many
things dear to our hearts. Some of the
friends who have gladdened our whole
High School career, will go out of our
lives leaving only pleasant memories.
Some of our teachers, who have been as
second mothers to us, will become not
so imxiortant factors in our lives.
High I.ife will no longer be our paper,
or Homespun our Magazine. The Pur
ple Whirlwind will have other cheer-
ers in our places. The Torch Light So
ciety and Student Government will be in
new hands. We will be gone.
M’hen we look at it in that light we
feel regret and sorrow, and yet life is
only long series of promotions and re
adjustments. It is up to us to go on
seniors, with our minds and hearts set
to carry on, in our new Alma Mater,
the high ideals of our dear G. H. S.
■ ♦ »
For he that once is good, is ever great.
—Ben Johnson.
Every one is the son of his own works.

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