Greenport High School - Beachcomber Yearbook (Greenport, NY)

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Senior Play did Hannibal cross the Alps?” Even with the help of his lovely fellow-inmate, Barbara, poor befuddled Henry Brewster couldn’t keep his Punic Wars and Prom dates separate. That was our own, hilarious senior play, starring Jim Mulhall and Betty Mazzo. Neither the actors themselves nor Mrs. Diller will forget the backstage confusion, the running comments of Hoot and Wes Burns, the tardy entrances of Pablo, the giggles of Priscilla, the massacre of poor Pud (hit him again, Dan; you didn’t kill him). After hours the fun began again at Joyce’s and Sally’s; Higbee lost. Yes, sir, the play’s the thing” to start off the senior year with a bang. Junior - Senior Ball o n the evening of May 14, with stars in their eyes and magic in the air, the lovely young adults” of Greenport High School made their de- but into the world of polite society. From eight until twelve the school gymnasium was a fairyland ballroom as the satins and laces whirled and glided in an ever changing panorama of color. Each danc- ing couple was charmed into a paradise of its own by the music of Jack Sherwood. For each Cinde- rella it was a night of nights with its memory tucked away among the flowers so carefully pressed. Junior - Senior Picnic y FTER going to Washington and carefully study- ing other portions of the United States, only one element in the education of the upper classmen remained. And so it came about—a study of the Orient. Hearts joyful with anticipation we trav- elled to Orient State Park to observe at close range the rustic beauties of the approaching summertime. In order to appreciate every aspect of the water surrounding us, we were obliged to test its quality by plunging each other into it. The conclusion ar- rived at after a careful study was its definite damp- ening tendency. Mealtime afforded us the oppor- tunity for a study of the eating habits of Orient wild life. (Ants and sand fleas, not classmates.) Our food we prepared in the primitive manner over an open fire in a decidedly un-primitive, state fur- nished fireplace. Taking a last mental note on the beauties of the setting sun, we left our picnic at the park. What we took with us, however, was far more val- uable than many lessons learned at school; knowl- edge about birds, the bugs and the flowers, but most of all enjoyment of the happy hours.

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of their lives. We think back to G. H. S. for them, to reverse their attitude. Ramon Dejesus has decided to spend his life dabbling in diesels. Jimmy Dinizio in his bell bottom trousers and Don Reeves in his pith helmet and buffalo horns will expand their hobby to a profession in big game hunting. Bill Boken Bur- bank will without doubt, produce a new Long Island potato, the only one of its kind, a one-eyed variety. Rockefeller’s name shall henceforth be written subordinate to Arthur Rowland in the history of the Stand ard Oil. Wiggy Harris intends to continue throwing the bull as head baby-sitter for the Bessie’s Better But ter” dairy farm. Ken Miller will heed the call to build a a better mousetrap.” Priscilla Staples with new raven hued tresses, we’ll see next with Xavier Cugat, out-rumbaing them all. With the demise of Micky Mouse, Barton Foster will take over as Disney’s man Friday. Nannie Morris, turning down a plea for the Eastern All-Star Basketball League, prepares to take it sitting down—shorthand, that is. Unpack- ing his pin-striped suit, white gloves, and dancing slippers, Andy Zipkas grooms himself for dollar-a-year man; he wants to dispel all rumors of inflation. It’s a bird, it’s a plane”—no, it’s Hootie’s new, jet pro- pelled yacht (emergency oars in the forecastle) with Higbee doing coolie labor on the deck and Monsell in full command.

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