I shall never forget. We were juniors. It was October of 1969. In
Mrs. Mary Davis's American Literature class (English III), our assignment was to recite by memory the last few
lines of "Thanatopsis," a poem by William Cullen Bryant. Here are those lines:
So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, that moves
To the pale realms of shade, where each shall
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon,but sustain'd and
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant
When Mrs. Davis called on Gloria Steele to recite, the room was total silence.
With her head bowed down, as if in prayer, Gloria mumbled through a few words. Then she stopped and began
crying. By that time Mrs. Davis became aware that the entire faculty and student body were grieving the tragic
death of senior Leona Fowler.
Even as children we experienced loss. As we grew older there were
more losses. Our losses have taught us to value life and to avoid taking it for granted. We have learned to cherish
our blessings. During this time of reflection and introspection, let's pause and remember our classmates with whom we
once shared the pleasures of life. These classmates have now journeyed into the next life, a road we all must travel. We salute
those who have gone before us. Their memory will forever linger in our hearts.
On the next page you'll find the names of those who have joined the caravan . Click here: