Page ‘2 HIGH LIFE Wednesdatj, May 12, 1926 High Life Published lii-Weekly by the Students of Tiik Greexsboro High School Ghi:i:>'Sboro, X. C. Founded by the Class of ’21 ClIARlrER Member /Tolumbia^ March 1925 Entered as Second-Class Matter at the Post Office, Greensboro, N. C. M A X A G E 31E X T Glenn Holder . .EdUor-in-Chief Idndsay Moore Business 2Ianager Ernest Williams, Aunt. Bus. & Circ. Mf/r. Associate Editors Margaret Ferguson, Betty Brown Carlton "Wdlder, Georgia Stewart. Special Editors Elizabeth, Rockwell, Mary Tilley, Paul Wimbish, Marguerite Harrison, John Mebane, Elizabeth Campbell, Henry Biggs, Graham Todd, Weldon Beacham, Hilda Smith. Reporters J. D. McNairj', 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 COPIED CLIPPINGS A cut a day keeps graduation away.- B. H. 8. Life, Beloit, Kansas. It is far better to have no glory than to have glory and not to have humble ness and respect.—Pine Whispers, Wins ton-Salem, N. C. TID-BITS 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 good-bye—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 judg ment, it was when they awarded the tropliy 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. Broad- hurst is the very life blood of the Great er 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 way. G. H. S. musicians didn’t corral the largest number of points in the Music Contest, but the Gildersleeve and Miller proteges gave a good account of them selves. Music is headed in the right direction and goin’ strong at Greens boro High. The Mencken mind is up to its old tricks again. This time it is the jour nalist who gets cussed out. “Journalism is a great club,” says he, or words to that effect, “whose initiation fee is the mem ber’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 instincts more than anything else,” quoth the wise and learned pedagogue. EDGAR DAVIS BROADHURST When the inter-club council awarded the Civiian Trophy Cup for the most conspicuous and unselfish service to the city during the past year to E. D. Broad hurst, they iierformed 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 ])ublic recognition of their work. Born in Wayne county, June 28, 1878, Mr. Broadhurst was the sixth child in a family of ten. Ilis father. Captain David Broadhurst, and his mother, Mar tha Baker Broadhurst, were both well educated, and they gave their children the best education that circumstances would permit. However, educational facilities were far less developed then than 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 North Carolina in 189(). lie 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 way 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., w'here he organized the towm’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 w^as on a trip abroad. In 1905 he returned to Greensboro and took up the practice of law% in w'hich he has been engaged ever since. He has always felt keenly the crying need of educational opportunities for every child, how’ever 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 w^e consider the hundreds, prob ably thousands, of boys and girls, young men and w'omen, who now enjoy the blessings of a good education, good cit izens that might have beer, 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 w^orld, and this dedication has in turn brought back to him a strength of spirit and loftiness of ideals and purpose that places him among 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 w’orking 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 w'anted to live to build one more school house for them.” SPRINGTIME’S TRAGEDY Springtime is jirobably the most beau tiful of all the seasons, the gayest; and yet like everything else in life, it has its note of tragedy. Here is ail this beauty, youtli, freshness, purity that be longs to tlie 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 })ass into complete oblivion. The Spring will become Summer, and the color so fresh and soft will lose its vitality with the heat and cloy as the monotony deep ens. And then in the fall—the season of death—there will come the strange, unnaturally bright colors, lit up, as it seems, in the moment of passing. And these, too, will fade—then dinginess, de cay, 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 hap pened 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. To day we can wink at the silent shadow of death that lurks beneath the beauty, the charm, the adventure of life. Today we can laugli aui. sing and love with all the other living things; enjoying our close relationship with it all, all Nature, the very warm earth supporting our feet. And when it is all over for us, whe ther we have “succeeded” as men term it, or whether. ours has been the bar ren 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 foreign to us, we can laugh there in the shadow of the unknown and say, “It may all have been futile, tragically 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. * * *” LAST CURTAIN Junior-Senior is over. With the ex ception of the senior play and the reg ular social activities which come with graduation, the “joyous high school days” of the seniors are numbered. During the four years that they were members of the high school cast they have have played their roles ably and with honor. It remains for them to make the last scene of the fourth and last acts a suc cess, to always be proud of, an unspec tacular 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 application. 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 MOTH ER’S J O Y HER DREAMS By CARi/rox 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 dee])-drcaming, Into her mind comes visions teeming — Lives youth again in him when hers is dead. that the audience waits to see and hopes to remember the June graduating class of '26 by is its work. At this time work is in order. LOVE OF MOTHER In the whole complexity of human emotion the whole world of sensation with its innumerable tiny flashes of mys terious energy leaping in the dark ob scurity of our existence there is one feeling that remains fixed, transcendant from its very surety, inflexible as the abstract principles we suppose to govern life. Temporarily the sensation may be obscured by some of the ephemeral emo tions that flicker brightly for a time in one's life and then fade, die out, dis appear; but in the background this one feeling remains ever constant, burning until the last spark of one’s conscious ness has chilled and after all other af fections have lost their charm. It is the first sense of relationship, of affection we know—the love for mother. And all through life it continues a powerful fac tor in the determination of our actions if not invariably a conscious 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 tremen dous debt they owed to the influence of their mother’s life and her great love for them. This debt can’t be repaid. The 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 approach a repayment of the love which our mother bestowed on us in one simple, instinctive, little sacri ficial 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 consequence the thing we want to do. Remember J'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 ful fil a part of the demand that life im poses on us to express emotion in ser vice; but the greatest result of our act will be that she will experience something of the sincere stirring of pleasure that comes as the reward of simple, unselfish devotion. FOUR MORE WEEKS Perhaps you have heard the little re frain that 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 High Scliool forever and will enter colleges, universities and offices. Of course the thought of graduation is pleasant. It should be. Yet, with it there also comes just a touch of sadness. Will we be free from English, Latin, 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 sec ond mothers to us, will become not so important factors in our lives. High Life will no longer be our paper, or Homespun our magazine. The Purple Whirlwind will have other cheerers in our places. The Torch Light Society and student government will be in other hands. We will be gone. When 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.
