Matt Bartlett
Fazeel Junaid
James Singh
Yazan Khudari
Period 6
The Grapes of Wrath: Highway 66
Highway 66 is the main migrant road
66 is the path of a people in flight
from all these people are in flight
and they come into 66 from the tributary side roads
from the wagon tracks and the rutted country roads
66 is the mother road.
And all the roads into Oklahoma City
66 down from Tulsa
270 up from McAlester
66 out of Oklahoma City; El Reno and Clinton,
going west on 66
66 across the Panhandle of Texas
Then down on the gorged Rio Grande to Los Lunas and West again
on 66 to Gallup and there’s the border of New Mexico
And 66 goes on over the terrible desert
The people in flight streamed out on 66
Le's go on till she blows
Its a free country
Norman Vega
Khin Thu
Iliana Bicakci
Rajan Bhangal
Per.6
Empty Rooms, Banging Doors, and Ragged Curtains
Carbon is not a man, nor salt nor water nor calcium
The machine man, kneeling in the earth to eat his lunch
His home is not the land
Hunting cats slouched in from the fields,
Crept through the open doors;
When the night came,
The houses were left vacant on the land
There is a breathing and a warmth,
Jaws champ
The smell of the droppings was in the empty house;
There is no day and night,
It is as dead as the ore it came from
Lanie Klusacek
Deepa Daryani
Daniel Wang
Ryan Bush
It’s always nice when Mr, Padway remembers to put your name on an assignment so he can give you CREDIT!!!
The Grapes of Wrath Poem
In the little houses the tenant people sifted their belongings
Junk piled up in a yard
Sell’em for what you can get. Sell the team and the wagon too.
That plow, that harrow
But I warn you, you’re buying what will plow your own children under
You’re not buying only junk, you’re buying junked lives
Maybe we can start again, in the new rich land- in California, where the fruit grows. We’ll start over.
To California or any place-every one a drum major leading a parade of hurts, marching with our bitterness
Now you know well what we can take and what we can’t take
When grandpa came-did I tell you/-he had pepper and salt and a rifle.
Wouldn’t go out naked of a rifle.
Junk piled up in a yard
Leave it. Burn it.
We could have saved you, but you cut us down, and soon you will be cut down and there’ll be non of us to save you.
Again!!! Nathan it would be nice if you put your groups name on this!
Ch 14
The western states, nervous as horses before a thunder storm.
The causes lie deep results, not causes; results, not causes. The causes lie deep. The causes are a hunger in a stomach
Function of a man-muscles aching to work
To build a wall, to build a house
To take hard muscles from the lifting
Man, unlike any other thing organic or inorganic
Universe, grows beyond his work
Emerges ahead of his accomplishments
The black planes on the market place
prisoners are stuck like pigs when the crushed bodies drain filthily in the dust
Not my land but ours.
We could love that tractor then as we have loved this land
Aditya Iyer
Matt Sauer
Andrew Gito
Grapes of Wrath:Chapter One
The last rains came gently, and they did not cut the scarred earth
The sky grew pale and the clouds that had hung in high puffs for so long in the spring were dissipated
The surface of the earth crusted, a thin hard crust, and the sky became pale, so the earth became pale
The sharp sun struck day after day
The air was thin and the sky more pale; every day the earth paled
Every moving thing lifted the dust into the air
The dust was long in settling back again
The men in the fields looked up at the clouds and sniffed at them and held wet fingers up to sense the wind
The wind felt over the earth, loosened the dust, and carried it away
The dawn came, but no day
Men and women huddled in their houses
Houses were shut tight and cloth wedged around doors and windows
The people, lying in their beds, heard the wind stop
They knew it would take a long time for the dust to settle out of the air
All day the dust sifted down from the sky, and the next day it sifted down
The people came out of their houses and smelled the hot stinging air and covered their noses from it
The men were silent and they did not move often
The men sat still-thinking-figuring.
JOSEPHS GROUP!!!! NAMES WOULD BE NICE!!!
Grapes of wrath
On the edge od the town in fikelds in vacant lots, the used car yards, the wtreckers yards
the garage with blazoned signs.
Used cars, Good used cars
A house large enough for a desk and a chair and a blue book
Those sons of bitches over there aint buying
Theyre lookers. Spending all their time looking.
Over there, them two people no, with them kids.
Get em in a car Start em at two hundred and work down
Owners with rolled up sleeeves.
Salesmen neat deadly,
small intent eyes watching for weaknesses
Watch the womans face.
If the woman likes it we can screw theold men.
Cars lined up, nose forward rusty nose flat tirees parked together.
CHAPTER 7
Katie Vandor
Sam Wilterdink
Palwinder Singh
Kaye Villaverde
Chapter 21
And they scampered about, looking for work; and the highways were streams of people,
And the ditch banks were lines of people.
And then suddenly the machines pushed them out and they swarmed on the highways.
And the hostility changed them, welded them, united them –
Hostility that made the little towns group and arm as though they repel an invader,
Squads with pick handles, clerks and storekeepers with shotguns
And guarding the world against their own people.
Men of property were terrified for their property.
Men who had never been hungry saw the eyes of the hungry.
Men who had never wanted anything very much saw the flare of want in the eyes of the migrants.
And the defending people said, They Bring disease, they’re filthy.
We own the country. We can’t let these Okies get out of hand.
The local people whipped themselves into a mold of cruelty.
Then they formed units, squads and armed them – armed them with clubs, with gas, with guns.
And the little storekeeper thought, How could I compete with a debtless man.
The migrants streamed in on the highways and their hunger was in their eyes,
And their need was in their eyes.
When there was work for a man, ten men fought for it with a low wage.
And this was good for wages went down and prices stayed up.
And the roads were crowded with men ravenous for work, murderous for work.
And the companies, the banks worked at their own doom and they did not know it.
Brittany
Elizabeth
Saviek
The spring is beautiful in California,
The centers of the blossoms swell and grow and color: cherries and apples, peaches and pears, figs which close the flower in the fruit,
And then the leaves break out on the trees, and the petals drop from the fruit trees and carpet the earth with pink and white,
And first the cherries ripen,
Black cherries and red cherries, full and sweet, and the birds eat half of each cherry and the yellowjackets buzz into the holes the birds made,
And the purple prunes carpet the ground,
And first the skins wrinkle a little and swarms of flies come to feast, and the valley is filled with the odor of sweet decay,
The sweet smell is a great sorrow on the land,
The works of the roots of the vines, of the trees, must be destroyed to keep up the price, and this is the saddest, bitterest thing of all,
They sprayed the trees and sold no crop, they pruned and grafted and could not pick the crop,
And the men of knowledge have worked, have considered, and the fruit is rotting on the ground, and the decaying mash in the wine,
There is a failure here that topples all our success,
In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.
Charmaine Dejesus
Lorraine Goveas
Kevin Kepner
Period #6
Grapes of Wrath Poem
Over the high coast mountains and over the valleys the gray clouds marched in from the ocean
And the rain fell steadily, and the water flowed over the highways
In the boxcars, the families huddled together,
Listening to the pouring water on the roofs.
Huddled under sheds laying in wet hay,
The hunger and the fear bred anger.
Then the boys went out,
Not to beg, but to steal;
And men went out weekly to try to steal.
Then the hungry men crowded the alleys behind the shores to beg for bread,
To beg for rotting vegetables,
To steal when they could.
At night the frantic men walked boldly to hen roosts and carried off the squawking chickens.
If they were shot at,
they did not run,
But splashed sullenly away;
And if they were hit,
They sank sullenly in the mud.
Then some went to the relief offices,
And they came sadly back to their own people.
They's rules-you got to be here a year before you can get relief.