Submitted by
Alex DeVito, Class of 1956
Feb. 23, 2012
I have
been coming to Cambridge since
the late forties, then started
at CCS in the mid fifties. So
you see, Cambridge is not only
in my dreams, but in my blood
and probably in my very soul.
The people,
friendly, down to earth, hard
working, honest, and they have
this quaint accent.
The Farmers
of my time, now gone, Vick
Maxwell, Jack and Billy Walsh,
(Billy is still with us) Henry
Wulff, Willie Stevenson, Charlie
and Sheldon Card, Bob LaBaron,
Clarence McCart. I worked side
by side with them all, then
depending on who we were
helping, ate at their homes.
The meals, at
noon, big bowls of steaming
potatoes, meat, fresh veggies,
with pitchers of milk, water,
lemonade, then after, apple pie,
sometime pudding, chocolate,
bread, rice, and always talk,
laughter, what they were doing
tomorrow.
The beautiful
country with all the hills. The
almost perfumed aroma of mint,
mixed with watercress, by the
little Brooks, streams, and
lakes.
The easy
smell of farm, Timothy, Alfalfa,
Corn, fresh plowed rich earth,
the cutting of hay and crops at
harvest. The sweet clover,
yellow and white, along the road
and rail road track.
The dark
night, filled with stars, that
light up the Heavens, with a big
Moon that seems to say, "I love
you too Cambridge".
Look, look at
the Moon on a bright night, and
watch carefully, as you may see
it wink, happy that your both in
Cambridge, with all it's
splendor, all it has, in
history, deep rich, just waiting
to be discovered.
The Winters,
cold, crisp, fresh, bold, quiet,
especially at night with clean
deep snow, bright in the full
Moon, that give up secrets of
the vast virgin forest.
"I went to
High School there you see." Oh
how can I forget the well lit
classrooms, with windows the
length of the room, wide
spacious hall's, stairs, and
gym.
The Teachers,
Mrs Grahm, Thiessen, Sipperly,
to name a few. Mr Bodenstab, Mr
Bowler, as Principals in my
time. The classes of 54, 55,
"56", and some of 58, I knew
them all just about.
These are my
reasons for coming back, for all
of this, this that has taken my
heart, and left me with an
everlasting impression, within.
Sometimes I
want to grow old very fast,
Then just
maybe,
I can retire
in my Cambridge at last.
But if for
some reason,
I can't get
there to retire,
I have it
written in my will,
To be buried
there when I expire.
Then when the
Great Judgement Day comes,
And up I
shall rise!
Why I'll be
in Cambridge,
To no ones
surprise.
In memory of
Mable E Grahm
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