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Show Keeper of the Flame I live in .a fruitful valley. Young America is my name, I stand here watchful unafraid "A keeper of the flame." If you were entering the New York Harbor Har-bor at night, you would see a great light shining for many miles over the waters. The flame of the light would be held aloft by a goddess of bronze. Yes, you would undoubtedly undoubt-edly say, this is the torch of liberty. Even if there were no statue, you would still see the flame. It comes from the eyes of people who know the freedom of the press, freedom of speech, and freedom of religion. This freedom is the spiritual kinship of the people who yesterday were Germans, Italians, Greeks, Dutch, Norwegians, or Chinese. It governs their hearts, their souls, and their bodies. It makes out of the individual American Amer-ican a "tyseper of the flame." The small newsboy on the street is familiar famil-iar with the siege of Stalingrad, the battle of Dunkirk, the invasion of North Africa. He knows that in Germany only propaganda is released for print; that there is no voice of the people; that hate has replaced human understanding. If he were of Jewish descent, des-cent, he would feel Hitler's wrath. lie might be beaten, maimed, imprisoned, starved, tortured, tor-tured, or sent to the Russian Front. He would drag the chains of slavery, and live in a hell of hells. The freedom of the press must not be abused. It offers food for the American's thoughts. Without it, progress would stop; emancipation, hope, and world peace would only be a madman's daydream. We shall not let the flame burn low, for we have pledged ourselves to be vigilant. Bob Jackson, '43. |