Jim died the summer of our Sophmore year. The following was a poem that Jim wrote when he was in 7th grade:

Streams of Gold

I sat there under the old oak tree, that stood like

a giant above me.

The trees were waving and the water rippling

smooth, smooth as a rose floating through the air.

The yellow sun shining through the clouds so

warm, so wonderful, with the sun shining on me

      I dreamed I was a pharoah being served nectar.

I looked at the yellow streams of sunlight that

shown on the clear water. I sat staring at it and

the water turned to gold. It looked like leaves 

floating down from above. So bright, so bold.

                                                                 - Jim

                                                                 7th grade, 1968