To the editor:
We know Malcolm went on to much higher pursuits in education and in his career, but we best remember him for the contributions he made giving Houlton High School Class of 1942 high distinction in the annals of our beloved institution. We were so proud as we sang, “There’s a Red Light on the Track for Houlton High.”
Malcolm’s poem, “A Philosophy,” appeared in the North Star 1940. It tells us something about our classmate we may not have known.
A Philosophy
For what others live, one cannot say
But I have often told myself alone
The Lord of Hosts shall mortal man condone
When time has brought, as must, his dying day.
If he has lived as man should live
And thus to those in need did always give,
But if he longed for power and for gain,
And by his deeds had caused his fellows pain,
Then God shall penance give him to endure,
To neutralize his sins and make him pure.
So, ever do I strive in my small way
To comfort folk, although to me unknown.
To see them turn and face the world alone
Both warms my heart and vanish all dismay.
Malcolm was a deep thinker, so well read. John Mooers, who kept in touch with him and shared some of his declining years, spoke of him this way: “Malcolm is the most intelligent person I have ever known.”
I, too, have many personal memories of Malcolm – my first date, for one, when he still paid only 10 cents for a ticket to the Temple Theater, and 15 cents for a chocolate ice cream soda at Gerow’s. He also introduced me to the word “osculation,” but without demonstration. We also danced at a prom; I’m not sure whose feet were more trod upon.
He loved our French teacher, Miss Alice Anne Donovan. And he loved Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address. I wish I had put it on tape for him, as he requested. He also asked that it follow a reading of Amy Lowell’s “Patterns.” He enjoyed our mini-class reunions and we regret he could not be reached in 2010.
In an essay, “The Saga of the Sea,” written for the 1942 North Star, Malcolm quotes “Requiem” by Robert Louis Stevenson:
“Home is the sailor, home from the sea
And the hunter home from the Hill.”
Goodbye, Malcolm.
Edith Dickinson Weber ‘42
Houlton
