Albany Academy - Cue Yearbook (Albany, NY)

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Class Hi tor Gone are the days when our hearts were young and gayf, Lest we lose the memory of those golden years of complete freedom and no responsibility, let us pause, before we step out into lifels busy thoroughfare, and look back a while to the days of our youth. . . A Do you remember, you original four, your nrst impression of the school?. . . that day in the late summer of the dark, dark year of 1931 when you tagged silently along behind your parents as they were shown about the nearly completed school by Doctor McCormick. . . Remember the first day of school? . . . how your mother got you all dressed lip and rushed you off in the Model-A to a classroom Hlled with silent wide-eyed Hve-year olds and talking parents . . . hon' suddenly they were gone and you were left with your first teacher. . . Remember that first year? . . . how you learned to tell time, how you hid behind the piano, how you mastered the triangles in the Kindergarten Orchestra, how you were scared to death by the Indian stories of Chief Crazy Bull. . . Remember your progress through the grades? . . . the huge houses you built of blocks and then toppled . . . the Hrst basic reader . . . introduction to com- petitive sports, Reds versus Blacks . . . the candy rewards for correct piano lessons under the sinister Miss Heisler on the Third Floor . . . the first time you really understood what all the talking was about in Monday Chapel . . . your salutes to the flag and 'LI pwedge aleechantsv and 'ffor purple mounted majestiesn . . . dis- cipline and beauty with Miss Davenport . . . the class picnic at which Pop got his nickname . . . the gang warfare in the fields across the road and in the forest that grew down in back by the boiler room . . . the trouble you had understanding division . . . the excitement that arose one day when Artie chased Jack all the way home . . . the first jump in the pool . . , the Exhibitions when you marched around the Gym, twirled wands, ran relays, and rotated flashlights inside balloons . . . and the distasteful Lower School Choir, with you in the red dress and high starched collar . . . your part as a bright young maid in the chorus of 'cPinafore,' . . . the fierce snowball fights between the Fifth and Sixth Grades out by the drift . . . trips with Miss Jordan to the Education Building and to the Karmelkorn . . . that picnic when Gordonis football fell in the crick . . . Miss Snively's promotion- seating system . . . and the Lower School Commencement when you went up to receive your diploma. . . Remember your introduction to the military side of the school? . . . the Sixth Form instructors shouting, Squads Right, not Squads Left! . . . the afternoons you spent desperately wading through uniforms in the Exchange. . . Cap', Town- send passing between the ranks of C Company blowing nauseating puffs from his stogie into the faces of you recruits . . . Colonel Donner, the bald eaglen, keeping you at attention in the hot sun while he lectured to some wayward Corporal. . . 441975

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ANTHONY PATRICK TRUCHIO Truck Pat Age: I7 years 2 months ' 1940-41-Private Co. A CCuidon Co.l, thirty- two, Glce Club, J.V. Basketball, Varsity Track. 1941-42-Private Co. A fGuidon Co.j, thirty- two, Treasurer of Warren Literary Society fSpringl, Glee Club, Varsity Track. 1942-43-Not in school. 194-3-44-Quartermaster Sergeant, Gates Lit- erary Society, Glee Club, Dramatics Club, Varsity Football, Varsity Hockey, Varsity Track. MORTON THURLOW VALLEY, JR. Morin Rough and Touglzn Blood and Gutsj' Age: I7 years 1943-44-lst Class Private Co. A, Secretary of Gates Banquet, Glee Club, Varsity Basketball. ROY DONALD WOOSTER, JR. r:R0y:1 Age: I8 years 6 months 1940-41-Private Co. C, thirty-two. 1941-42-Private Co. A fGuidon Co.l, thirty- two, Gates Literary Society, J.V. Foot- ball, Varsity Swimming, Varsity Track. 1942-4-3-Corporal Co. A fGuidon Co.l, thir- ty-two, All-Albany Track Team, Varsity Track. 1943-44-Senior Color Sergeant, Varsity Foot- ball, Varsity Track fCaptainj. 441855

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L'Cap', Townsend's advice: Now that you're a p.f.c. you've got to live up to itll, . . . your Hrst Cuidon . . . shining your buckles for hours on end . . . shaking for fear that the Reviewing Officer might ask you a question when he came around . . . the cry of dismay that went up on Armistice Day when the Battalion learned it was to march directly behind the cavalry units . . . how angry you were when the crowd kept saying, Here comes C.B.A.,' and Back from the Civil War, eh! . . . the exhausting trip to Cooperstown and drill in the dust-bowl stadium . . . and the Competitive Drill when you steamed and sweated all afternoon. . . Remember your years in the Middle School? . . . the dictionaries that Mr. Paul used to throw at you . . . the continuous wrestling match between Artie and Marcus . . . Mr. Easton's flaming temper . , . that day you low- ered Mr. Paul Oh-so-gently into a mud puddle . . . shagging flies in the Spring . . . the opening baseball game when you all went down to see the Senators . . . Mr. Moranis lectures on Arizona and the effectiveness of a three-inch hatpin . . Mr. Crawford's desolate existence in the Middle School. . . Remember the Upper School? . . . that first day rushing around trying to find the classrooms before the third bell rang . . . the fierce intramural football games. . .Coach Morris' advice to candidates: Read the Bible and get enough sleep. . . . the thrill of being on a Varsity team, even though you were on the bench most of the time. . . Mr. Stetson: Now . . . ah . . . someone . . . has . . . ah . . . mis . . . appropriated . . . the . . . ah . . . chandelier . . . in . . . the library , followed by You . . . ah . . . know that . . . you . . . cannot . . . ah. . . expect. . .towin. . . aboatrace . . . ah . . .ifoneof.. .thecrew ...is...ah...downinthe...bottom...oftheboat...drilling... a hole in itl' ,... Mr. Webber's varied remarks to his classes, ranging from Quietl dogs, for the Third Form to HI-lush, Ladsf, for the Sixth . . . Mr. Midgley's violent shaking of the notebooks of his Ancient History class . . . those informal metallic clangs as the ............ hit the floor of the Varsity Locker Room in swift succession . . . that burning cord in Mr. Lindsey's room and the knife in the door with the ominous note: Death to Joelv . . . the time Mr. Owen brought the Dartmouth Outing Club guide posing as an illiterate half-breed '. . . the exterior warm feeling and the interior sick feeling after the Initiations . . . strains of Tony Sporborg's Etude in C-Sharp Minor' flowing through the building on a rainy afternoon . . . the spirited chalk Hghts . . . the massive figure of Mr. Webber striding down the hall after Chapel before the Sixth Period Math tests . . . the new Kindergarten teachers . . . and that succession of '4lasts . . . the last foot- ball game . . . the last Guidon . . . the last parade . . . the last test . . . the last Commencement. . . All of which should leave you with the feeling you've experienced if you have been the last one out of the building on a Friday afternoon, and you have walked down the halls, just thinking: or if at night you have ever sat outside on the steps waiting for your Dad after an athletic trip, just thinking. . . The school contains memories of from one to thirteen of the best years of your life. A class history can only scratch the surface of this golden lodeg the rest is upto you. R. O. II 44 20 D