CLASS OF FIFTY SIX

>>> The Anchor that Holds hearts, to God, Country, 'School' <<<

CLASS OF FIFTY SIX
By Arley Steinhour 080816
{Final Copy To 60th Reunion}

Sixty years, has managed to pass,
Since we had the Title, 'Senior Class,'
Ready to set the World on its Ear,
Nineteen-Fifty-Six, a very Good Year.

We broke the bottle, to launch the School,
McCook, Nebraska, teaching Golden Rule,
So many years, the old School stood Tall,
In every corner, Dunces heads pinned the Wall.

Just for 'tradition,' new School, gained, marks too,
Of foreheads, praying, of which, I made a few,
Everything new, in that beauty, squeaky clean,
In the first week, twas running like well-oiled machine.

Theater, Chemistry-Lab, Auto and Wood-shops,
Lockers, and Large class rooms, with no 'stops.'
In our honor, a mural, about First Grads to Pass,
The start of Hallowed Halls, on the Photo-Canvas.

Graduation, lit wicks, like a Fireworks Display,
We entered the World, of work and life, 'Our Way,'
Some, to College, Tech-schools, or 'Other,'
Some Joined the Services, for Duty and Honor.

Around the world, 'Fifty-Six,' made a Mark,
And, our Anchor, McCook, we could find in the Dark,
Something about having friends for Lifetime, this True,
Numbers now fading, not many more, until we're Through.

Twenty-One years, till new Fifty-Six Generation,
Presuming, of course, they still have a 'Nation,'
Our, 'Fifty-Six' Graduated, when Future seemed 'Bright,'
Shortly thereafter, 'Cloak of Darkness, brought NIGHT.

Something Afoot, since Rome exiled 'God's, Jew,'
That worked Underground, like a Mold, deep in a shoe,
Too Late, it appears, our response wasn't True,
Now near Slavery, we release Survival, to you.

Until that day comes, we'll still love the 'New School,'
That lives in our heart, in the City we find 'Cool,'
Today our New School, is some, 'Tattered, and Worn,'
I pray, it lasts till called, when 'Gabriel Blows his Horn.'

AMEN