https://caspercollege.cvlcollections.org/files/original/89621551facfb32247044c8492733c64.pdf 626d75fa3e8c88accd3e19425bda8c7f PDF Text Text TOMORROW Peg Meece He tucked the thin, tattered, blue blanket beneath his son’s chin be­ fore he left the apartment, which was typical of most Harlem apartments— unheated, ill-lighted, and without hot water. The young girl who lived in the next apartment would come in and check the boy if she heard him cry­ ing through the thin wall of the apartments. He walked down 58th street towards the subway, his spirits beginning to lift as the filthy smog and dank atmosphere fled before the morning sun. Perhaps today would be different. Today he would go home with a job. He had been unemployed for over a year now, and was about to give up. He knew he had lost his pride, but he also knew that it would return if he found a job. Before, people had always been against him, but now he was in New York City, the showplace of the United States, where all men were equal as God had created them. Equal to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. “Pursuit of happiness,” he mused. “What chance would a guy like me have for happiness? Millions are enslaved by communism, but I am free, free to pursue happiness. True, I can’t find a job and bills are long over-due, but Bess is working. I’ll find a job soon, and little Billy will be able to play in no time. Pneumonia! What does the doctor know? Billy just has a little cold.” He now turned a side street and reached the subway. He paid from the few coins that Bess had left him, and after a few moments was racing below the streets of New York, showplace of Democracy. When he got off, he then walked the rest of the way to the Unemployment Bureau. After leaving his name at the desk, he was asked to sit down. There he waited. He recog­ nized most of the waiting people. Some children, who had been brought by their parents were chasing balloons of red, white and blue. Others, who had grown weary, were rapidly falling into the sleep of children, peaceful and innocent. Most of the people there were Negroes, like himself, or Puer­ to Rican. They waited. About an hour later a young couple lounged up to the reception’s desk after rudely bumping, and nearly knocking down an elderly woman. “Why don’t ’ya watch what you’re doin’, Spic?” the young Lady sneer­ ed at the bewildered immigrant. Her companion was in the characteristic black leather jacket, tight jeans, sunglasses, and long greasy hair. The girl wore a tight-fitting skirt and sweater, with curlers in her hair which she occasionally replaced. Both seemed to be under twenty. After a few moments, they were interviewed and promised a job within the next few weeks. Still he waited. Still most of the others waited. Three-fourths were —21— �non-white. They waited. The weary, half-starved faces of those around him reflected the dis­ couragement and helplessness he was feeling. It was now almost 5:00 p.m. He had waited through the noon hour, thinking that he might miss a good chance if he left. About 6:00 p.m. the office closed and with its workers left a young Negro father whose wife works irregular hours, whose son dies as he waits. But there is always tomorrow. STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN Jacob. See, Jacob? Staircase, Jacob. Long way up there, Jacob. See the top way up there, Jacob? Listen! I hear somethin’ cornin’, Jacob. Soon there’s got to be a reward cornin’, Jacob. But now you must admit, repent your old sins, Jacob. There’s the only way you’ll ever get to heaven now, Jacob. Jacob Jacob Jacob Jacob. —Tom Norman VICTORY Like a falcon in the sky. Triumphantly passing others by. The victorious chant and scream. And yet, may not know what they mean. Meanwhile, the conquered must bow down. And lose possession of their noble crown. But, who really won in the end? Of course, those who had the most to spend. THEIR GOALS It’s true, the components of this marvelous age. Want it all in black and white on this very page. Not to think, contemplate, decide, and do. But rather, to merely follow through By Plan A, let the flower bloom. That’s what they want — Security of the tomb. —Ronnie Forgey � Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Text Any textual data included in the document Print magazine story Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource "Tomorrow" Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-EDU/1.0/">http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-EDU/1.0/</a> The Casper College Archives has archived this story to encourage the use of its Expression Literary Arts Magazines for digital humanities and other related educational uses. Date Created Date of creation of the resource. 1964 Description An account of the resource Story by Peg Meece published in the fall 1964 Casper College Expression magazine. Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Peg Meece Language A language of the resource ENG Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. 1964 Fall. Expression Literary and Arts Magazine, CCA 04.ii.c.2022.01 WyCaC US. Casper College Archives and Special Collections. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context CCA_04.ii.c.01_Expression1964_Fall_Meece Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Extent The size or duration of the resource. 2 pages