Natick High School - Sassamon Yearbook (Natick, MA)

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BUYS' PROPI-IECY I will be frank with you, fellow-classmates, and will tell you I have been, as far back as I can remember, an addict to somnia. The sooner you recognize the fact, the better it will be for both of us. I am going to tell you of one of my experiences. One warm summer afternoon, as I was swinging in my hammock, gazing over the landscape, which was bathed in the radiance of the sun, I was just about to fall asleep when something like the reflection of the sun in a mirror attracted my attention. I arose and discovered that the light seemed to come from a. neighboring hill. As I had nothing to do, I decided to find out the cause of this disturbance. After I emerged from some dense bushes and reached the top of the hill, what should I find to be the light, but Redi' Kelly's flaming red hair. He was seated before an easel painting the beautiful land- scape. Beside him, on the ground, was my old friend, Vic Rogers, chewing a piece of grass. On Red's left was Joe Bianchi, whittl- ing a birch stick. Waal, said Vic, that's purty good, 'Red.' Yep, drawled Joe, could hardly do better'n 'at myself. At this moment Red noticed me and after shaking hands he started asking me about myself and the town of Melville, on the Hud- son, where I lived. I told him that most everyone out there was famous, except Henry Swenson, who was Mayor, and Frank Balzarini, who was Postmaster. Red then invited me up to his studio, in New York, for the week-end. I was charmed with this kind invitation and told him I was delighted to accept it. So I left the boys and started toward the center of the town. On my way I was surprised to meet Percy Morrill, who was a traveling salesman for the National Clothes- pin Company, and also Ted Dumas, who was now a singing teacher at the Melville High School. About two o'clock, the following afternoon, I reached Red's studio and Paul Fitz came to the door and ushered me in. Red was busy painting a picture of Billie Hopf, who was posing as Apollo. Immediately, however, he put away his paints and suggested that we go on a sightseeing tour, since I had never been in New York before. There was a large hotel opposite Red's studio, which was owned by Edward Bransfield. We went in and who should I see sweeping the floor, but Brendon Graham. Stopping at the hotel were many of my High School classmates. After talking with Arthur Moran I found he was selling Fuller brushes. Arthur told us that Walter Kelly was working in the New York Commercial Bank, as teller. His duty was to tell the people where to wipe their feet when they entered. In the same institution was Mahlon Bragdon, who was the Draft Clerk,-he opened and shut the windows.

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10 THE SASSAMON The next thing to claim our attention was the Junior Prom. This resulted in the greatest social success. of our High School life and it still retains a cherished place in our memories. Although it was more formal than other years and the gathering much smaller our treasury was enlarged considerably. The reason for the introducing of a formal Prom was, that the year before, on account of the large attendance, the floor became rather weak, and Mr. Archibald gave us to understand that he was not going to grow a crop of grey hairs worrying that the floor might cave in. Everyone present enjoyed the evening and the weaker sex was escorted home by many of the gentlemen present. This concluded the achievements of our Junior year. The next year we attained the great height to which we had been looking forward to. We were now Seniors, the zenith of our High School career. High and mighty were we in the eyes of our under- classmates. We held our first class meeting in October and the same officers who had served during our Junior year were elected to serve a second term. The records of the class of '26 should be carved into the pages of Natick High School's history. Both in the classroom and on the athletic field, fine records have been established. We are al- ways striving to increase in scholarship as well as in athletic ability and toward this end the class of '26 has more than contributed its share. Ted Dumas led a fine group of chargers upon the gridiron, Viney Harriott possessed an excellent band of sluggers upon the diamond, and Vera Swenson, a fine quintet of girls upon the basket- ball floor. The Senior Play, Clarence, was a huge success, thanks to the competent students who put it over. Basil Decker was the hero and Dorris Ambler, the heroine. We must not forget Dot Damon, in that wonderful sobbing act, Mary Hogan's manipulation of the broom, nor Mahlon Bragdon's makeup. The pl-ay was given two nights, in- stead of the usual one. It might be well to mention here that the chest expansion of the Seniors was considerably enlarged for several weeks after. June 23, 1926, will be a long remembered date for every member of this class. Upon that night the dignified Senior strutted forth and received that precious little document which is commonly known as a sheepskin or more technically termed a diploma, for which he has struggled for, for four long years. And so the history of the class of 1926 ends in so far as we are concerned with the classroom itself, but with the ideals and spirit which Natick High School has set before us, we feel that the history of the class of 1926 does not end here, but will go forth into the world, striving for the highest things of life and giving the best that is in us. CHARLES H. BRADY

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12 THE SASSAMON Red and I then went around New York and ended up in the Grand Central Station, where we came upon Walter Macllvain. What are you doing here? I asked, noticing Walter's uniform. Why, he replied, I have a job bidding the people good-bye. Just then a big, burly policeman told us that we had been parking too long and if we did not move on he would have us arrested. I was surprised to find the cop was George Mordis. When he recognized us he said, in a joking way, I'll have to report you to the chief. Who might that be? I demanded. Basil Decker, he replied. I found out from George where headquarters was and went up to see Chief Decker. He had Joseph Whitman for an office boy. After shaking hands with Basil I asked him why he became a policeman. Well, he said, ever since I was in the Senior play I've wanted to wear a uniform like the one I had then. But why didn't you start in the ice business? I asked. I did for a time, he replied, wearily, but I found ice wasn't all it was cracked up to be. After leaving Basil we met Wendell Gibbs and Walter Reardon, who asked us to take dinner with them. Wen told us all about his success in business and said he and his partner, Walter, were making a fortune on hairpins. That evening Red wanted to make it pleasant for me during my stay, so decided to ask some of our old classmates over to the studio, for a little party. Among the guests were George Erikson, Harold Gibbons, Bill McManus, Leslie Raymond and Walter Warn. George Erikson, Bill McManus and Leslie Raymond were ball play- ers and were sluggers for the Yanks. They hit the ball so far the out-fielders had to be on horseback, Walter Warn said he was in the cigarette business, so I warned him not to smoke too much, lest he might stunt his growth. Harold Gibbons became an actor and at this time was on Keith's circuit, his stage name being Harold Teen. I asked him why he didn't play Romeo and he told me he learned his lesson about going up into the balcony after women when he worked in the Natick Theatre. I heard from Harold that Charles Brady was an Underwood Destroyer or typist in a newspaper office. We talked on various topics and finally discussed our own Senior class. I found out that Vincent Harriott was a tight-rope walker. Someone always had Vin on a string and now the Ringling Bros. had him on a wire. At length someone suggested going to the theatre. We found Henry Grady selling tickets, Edwin Mitchell, scene-shifter, and Alfred Ljunggren and Walter Lumbert, ushers. The first number on the bill was a juggling act, by George Graham. I suppose he got his training juggling dishes at McNeil's lunchroom. The feature of the show was the Terrible Trio, members of which were Richard Bates, piano, Rob- ert Amendola, violin, and Earl Hopf, soloist. Robert Gammons gave a