Wakefield High School - Oracle Yearbook (Wakefield, MA)

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but really accomplish our goal and make W. H. S. just a little bit better (although it ranks pretty high already). Here ' s to our band! Richard Hayes, ' 30. OPPORTUNITY— NOW There are always opportunities for advancement if we look for them; small ones, to be sure, at times, but stepping- stones to larger ones. Those living in a small town, perhaps, have not seen much of the world beyond; but every avenue that leads to success begins at the schoolroom door. For a few short years, we live in this world as we find it; but before we realize it, we are making our own world, shaping our own lives, carving our own destinies, forming our own ideals. The world we live in is what we decide in our minds that it is going to be; we can accept the advan- tages we desire and reject others. Our success depends upon ourselves. Why, then, do so many fail in life? There are many kinds of failure: a few — very few, indeed — fall back because of circumstances be- yond their control; some fail through indifference, slug- gishness; others neglect to look forward. The greatest per- centage of failures is due, however, to inability to recognize Opportunity, whose door always lies open to the road of prosperity. But, we must remember that anything worth having demands work — untiring, unceasing work. Opportunities must be seized when they are offered, or they disappear. If we do not accept advantages immedi- ately, they will be taken by someone else; and gradually our possibilities will be fewer and less frequent, for people will think we do not want their offers. Time will not wait for us. There are treasures for us all; we can take them or leave them for some fortunate person who is looking for a chance. Our life is developed according to our choice. America is a land of opportunity. Its free school sys- tem, of which we should make the most, enables every youth to get an education. Mary Antin ably describes the supply of opportunities in the United States, as opposed to the lesser number in Europe. We live in a free land because others sacrificed to make it so. Shall we fail our country now, or shall we prove ourselves worthy of it? Let us all, then, seize our opportunities with earnestness and zeal, and make ourselves capable of accepting them. We must always consider the future and not retreat when any obstacle arises. If we make the most of our small oppor- tunities, eventually there will be greater ones. If we are determined to get ahead, nothing can stop us. Opportunity is here now. Let Her in! Norma Worters, ' 30. EDUCATED BUSINESS The modern note in industry is research. The manu- facturer not only recognizes his debt to pure science, but also realizes that if he is to survive, he must keep up with the world — an undertaking which requires more energy than formerly. In an earlier era of American commercial life the manu- facturer, the railroad man, and their stockholders failed to appreciate the influence of the work of the scientist. The hard-boiled business man ' s boast was a practical outlook. No visionary, theoretical investigations for him. If he could find new applications of power and mechanics to his operations, he was glad to employ skillful mechanics. But to put real money into a laboratory and let one of those professors putter around with bottles and wires — he just wasn ' t going to be such a fool. Now the corporations are crying for trained brains. As someone has phrased it, A Faraday at a million a year would be dirt cheap. And those professors are a group of highly-trained, alert young fellows, graduates of special- ized institutions such as Massachusetts Tech, Purdue, Rens- selaer, Case, and others. They work in a carefully-planned, efficiently arranged laboratory, where costly equipment is provided for them. As a result, those firms who have early adopted and pursued a policy of pure research are now in the lead of the World ' s industrial race. Such firms are General Electric, DuPont, Bell Telephone, Westinghouse, and General Motors. Germany ' s tremendous industrial organizations were built by this rare combination of brains and capital. And now America can challenge the world to produce a finer group of powerful corporations than is hers. Business is becoming educated. Orison Pratt, ' 30. LABOR There is nothing truly valuable which can be pur- chased without pain and labor. — Addison. During the past four years, each member of the senior class has been studying earnestly with the object of grad- uation. We are now hoping that our ideals will be realized in June. Some of us have profited a great deal; others have been contented in just getting by. However, when we seriously think over the past, a strong admiration for those who have taught us the right from wrong will, no doubt, begin to linger as a pleasant memory in every senior ' s heart. Upon entering the freshman class, we were confronted with a great many obstacles which we later discovered would be a heavy burden to bear throughout the course of our high school career. The reason for all this hard work was simply to have us acquire the art of concentration in order to learn quickly and clearly. We did not learn of our weaknesses, nor were we able to correct our mistakes in a day. But by constant work upon the less interesting and attractive subjects with the co-operation of the teachers, we were able to obtain a better understanding of our different studies. As a little advice to those students who are freshmen and to those who enter as freshmen next fall: Never get dis- couraged. We are told by Roger Aschan By experience we find a short way by a long wandering. Learning teacheth more in one year than experience teacheth in twenty. Have faith in your work and towards those who help you to learn. The teachers are working for your bene- fit, and, in order to have something to show at the end of your scholastic career, hard work in every subject should be the firm resolve. Thomas Burke, ' 30.

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£l7IT0FimLS Marcia Carter, ' 30 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The members of THE DEBATER STAFF are grateful to their classmates who have so freely contributed to these pages; to those pupils in the typewriting classes who, under the expert supervision of Miss Alice Ryan, carefully typed the material for the press; and to the faculty advisers, who have given this undertaking invaluable assistance. OUR AIM This year ' s DEBATER STAFF has earnestly endeavored to make this issue of THE DEBATER enjoyable to every underclassman, as well as to the seniors. We have tried to maintain the worthy standard set by the publications of former years, and we have attempted to publish as many articles as our limited space permits. Although this year ' s DEBATER is four pages larger than the customary issue, we have been obliged to omit several excellent contributions for lack of space. Continually bearing in mind the all-important fact that THE DEBATER IS ESSENTIALLY A SCHOOL MAGA- ZINE, we have encouraged especially the underclassmen in their literary ventures. If, therefore, our supporters derive any amusement, benefit, or delight from the following pages, we shall feel amply rewarded for our services. Richard Hayes, ' 30, Editor-in-Chief. To Our Advertisers We wish to acknowledge the generous financial aid given to us by our advertisers. Without this support it would be impossbile to issue The Debater. Timothy McCarthy, Arthur Brown, Business Managers. A SCHOOL BAND Music always has been and always will be a powerful inspiration toward the accomplishment of greater deeds. For countless ages, silver trumpets have summoned men to action, or have transformed a disgraceful, undisciplined flight into an orderly, steady, forward charge. A school band has a similar function. More than once a hard-fought struggle has been won by the thrilling, in- spiring sound of a school song bursting forth to let the wearied, chagrined athletes know a whole school is fighting with them. Several high schools in our immediate vicinity have organized and successfully maintained bands. For example, Melrose and Woburn, schools approximately our size, have bands ably conducted by capable student drum majors. These bands appear on all appropriate occasions, and, as those who have heard them at the games on Walton Field can well testify, they render their selections in a very satis- factory manner. What a possibility for a band in our own school! A band with our R. O. T. C. unit would add color to that organiza- tion and also allow it to be independent of outside bands. It would also enable the army to be rid of the discomfort of having the first two companies marching to the lively step of the band ahead of them, while, on the other hand, the last two companies are endeavoring to keep time with a much slower march being played close behind them. Then, too, it is evident from recitals of other bands that the townspeople would certainly appreciate an opportunity to hear a concert held in the auditorium. Thus, such ex- penses as might have been incuiTed would be considerably defrayed. Another suggestion — can you not picture a bright, sunny afternoon on Walton Field, with the bleachers full of ex- ulting, cheering boys and girls, and an inspired school band triumphantly bursting forth into a victorious march dedi- cated to the football or baseball team? Can you not imagine the thrilling inspiration to do or die that the band would arouse in hopeful hearts? The knowledge that nearly a thousand schoolmates were backing you up would mean more than weeks of training to anxious athletes. Let ' s all unite and not only attempt to institute a band

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GRIMALKIN That afternoon Grimalkin had strolled down the dusty road that led past the village cemetery. She knew that there among the gravestones, nestled in the tall yellow grass, was a swallow ' s nest. She remembered the exact spot whence the frightened mother swallow had darted on seeing her. Her paw had felt five warm eggs. Then she had an- ticipated a feast. Now, as she lay drowsily on the porch, switching her tail nervously, she glanced at her shadow. It had grown long and dim. Night, Grimalkin ' s time for action, was coming. Had you been a fly on the wall, you would have seen her glassy, yellowish-green eyes shine maliciously in the dim light. She roused herself, stretched, and went slinking down the road. Soon she reached the cemetery. After looking about guiltily, and seeing no one, she entered the gate. The cemetery was very still. Stealthy as they were. Grimalkin ' s steps rustled the dry grass and leaves at even intervals. When she was close to the swallow ' s nest, she saw the mother bird sleeping, unaware of lurking peril. She crouched and waited for one quivering moment. Then a sudden spring, a clutch of claws, a crushing bite, and little mother swallow was no more. Almost passionately Grimal- kin clawed and gnawed at the remains of the bird. In greedy gulps she devoured the five juicy babies. This done, she licked her lips, and, with a satisfied grin and a full stomach, she set out for home. Dreamily, slowly, she padded down the road. Thoughts of her feast obliterated everything else. She did not see the two dazzling lights speeding toward her. She did not hear the vibrating noises of the oncoming Ford ' s engine. Neither did the driver see the gray cat in the dark road. He was aware that he had gone over a bump — another bump in a country road. Grimalkin uttered one hideous cry of pain. The Ford rat- tled on its way. Then the night was stUl again. Early the next morning, I walked down the same coun- try road to get the mUk. There in the dust, with stains of dried-up blood mussing the gray fur of her head. Grimalkin lay limp and still — dead. Carol Lee, ' 31. Joan Foster, ' 30 HE WAS A FLYING FOOL Jerry Alden was known as the flying fool of the Forty- ud Squadron. It was back in 1918, when parachutes were unknown, but even the fact that when one ' s plane caught fire or was shot to pieces, Newton ' s law came into effect conclusively, failed to keep this human bird on liie ground. Jerry was famous for his foolhardy trick of diving into a flight of German Fokkers, knocking down two or three before the Teutons knew what it was all about, and then running off in his faster Spad in a very taunting fashion. Every other pilot in the squadron had tried to reason Jerry out of his recklessness, but all to no avail. He passed it off carelessly, saying, What do you fellows think I joined the service for? When my time comes, I ' ll be ready, but until then, why not make myself useful? And his idea of being useful was very agreeable to the com- manding officer. Jerry ' s average weekly total of enemy planes certainly helped to uphold the Forty-third ' s enviable reputation. One day, when the weather was too gusty for flying, a Fokker appeared over the flying field. It was met by a fusillade of machine-gun bullets and auto-aircraft shells, but the daring German swooped down unscathed over the airdrome and then zoomed quickly into the leaden sky. Behind him, a small white parachute fluttered to earth. Jerry was the first to reach the fallen ' chute. Upon exam- ination, it was found to contain a letter addressed to Lt. Jerry Alden. The missive was a challenge to fight an air duel on the next day at noontime. It was signed Capt. Frederic Hertzsheimer, who was one of the most famous German aces. Jerry laughed carelessly and nonchalantly lighted a cigarette. As if nothing had happened, he re- turned to the barracks and quietly turned in. The next morning, the commanding officer excused Jerry from his usual two-hour patrol. All the morning the fiying fool spent on his plane, examining, especially, the motor and the machine-gun mechanisms. He supervised the stowing of the cartridge belts and of the gasoline and oil. Just before noon, he calmly shook hands with the major, climbed into his Spad, and took off. Coming over No Man ' s Land , he circled warily, on the lookout for a trap. Soon he spied speeding toward him a