Arlington High School - Indian Yearbook (Arlington, MA)

Page 10 text:

6 Arlington High School Y ear- B oo k Mr. Coffey, assistant to Mr. Henricus and Gym teacher, was introduced to us. Our Junior Year was brought to a close when the noble Seniors enthusi- astically left us their home rooms. After the customary vacation, we entered our Senior Year with the usual high spirits that had always been characteristic of us, and with the dignity that would befit Queen Marie’s procession, we marched sedately to the highest of our ambitions, the front middle section of the Assembly Hall, there to set an example for the underclassmen in poise and manners. We were also allowed to leave the hall first if we were quick enough to beat the little Sophs, who did not believe in obeying orders. The first number on the program of the year was the class meeting at which we elected the following classmates to lead us through the most important year of our career. This time Boris Fostiak was elected President; Channing Hilliard, Vice-President: June Yale, Secretary; Ruth Hendrick. Treasurer, and Mrs. Moffatt, Class Adviser. Mr. Palmer, the new Assistant Principal, was introduced to us at the beginning of the year. A few new members entered our class, namely, Victor Briefer. Edward Gunzlcman, William Doherty and Paul MacPhee to take the places of the students who have left. “Del” Everett and “Bud” Bacon are now rivals. “Del” is at Exeter and “Bud” is at Andover. Evelyn Young has moved to Georgia, and there are a few others who have strayed from our class — and taken up various courses. History repeats itself, and again we had to undergo an ordeal. The speaker ' s desk was removed from the platform of the Assembly Hall. The Seniors for two years had used this desk to hide their shaking legs from the audiences. This surely meant our downfall, but contrary to expectations, each Senior stood without faltering, before the school, and expounded on very elevating subjects. In fact, we all seemed to speak better without the leaning post. We shall never forget that assembly in October when “Chan” Hilliard gave us a laughing exhibition. I am sure that some day “Jerry” O’Neill will be a radio announcer, and “Dike” Daley will always be glad to give Christmas Shopping Suggestions. After a year of torture, the School Committee decided that the bell which had been silent should ring again. Only once during the year did that welcome bell ring out its melodious tone, but not for us. The Student Council has passed another successful year under the lead- ership of James Snow; the work of The Clarion has been carried on by us, with Arthur Douropulos as editor-in-chief. Thus endeth the history of the Class of Nineteen Hundred and Twenty- seven. Part we must, but never shall we forget our happy days at school.

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A r l i n g t o n H i g It School Y ear- B oo k 5 (IJlasii ISjiBton} As I think back to our happy childhood days, I recall that we, the Class of ' 27, were never burdened with that troublesome, but fitting, name Freshman. Due to the new three-yea r plan, we spent our Freshman year in the Center and Western Junior High Schools where we were very well instructed in nature poems, especially Snowbound. Before graduating from these well-known pre- paratory schools, we were invited, as a body, by the Junior Class of the High School to learn something about our future home. In search of knowledge as we have ever been from our youth, we accepted, and were instructed by brilliant Juniors — led by Doris McCarthy, Helen Stokes and Jane Gilmore as to what we should do: what we should not do: and how to find rooms five and eight. But the knowledge imparted by these brilliants went right over our heads, because when we finally did reach our new abode, we were in a daze. So after a vacation which seemed all too short, we gathered, like frightened lambs, in the Assembly Hall of the High School. That was a memorable day for us, because it was the first, last and only time that we should sit down- stairs in the Assembly Hall that year, for although we were not Freshman, we were obliged to sit on the shelf. In fact, we sat on the shelf many times that year, for public speaking was introduced, and we were entertained each week by the dignified Seniors, who told us about everything including “Etiquette” and “The Thrills of Being a Senior.” Soon after our arrival we elected our class officers, and the results were: Norval Bacon, President: Fred McArthur, Vice-President: Alice Walker, Secre- tary: and June Yale, Treasurer. Under the guidance of these stars, we passed a very successful year. As J uniors, we entered the familiar doors on the east and west sides of the high school building, a little more joyful because we were no longer the infants of the school, at least the majority of us were not. The first event of the year was to elect our leaders for the year. Richard Lombard was elected President with the following aides: June Yale, Vice-President: Evelyn Young, Secretary; Alice Walker, Treasurer, and Mrs. Moffatt, Class Adviser. The next event was the greatest accomplishment of the year. Our kind School Committee decided that we were working too hard, and abolished the Mid-fi ear Exams, but, may I add, not the finals. It also decided that the school should keep open house on stormy days, hence the departure of the No-School Bell. Throughout the winter we fought our way through bliz- zards, and in some cases were obliged to shovel our way to school. This often meant colds and discomforts, but we bravely endured all storms. A Junior Prom was undertaken, and proved very successful, both socially and financially. Miss Sydnor, head of the Dramatic Club, left during our Ju nior Year, and her place was filled by Mrs. Matthews, whom we knew at first sight would fill it well.

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Arlington High School Year-Book 7 (flass Jlnem God sent his Jester down to earth To cheer the world with song and mirth. And to command the mortal clime With the great overeign Father Time. The Jester did as God had bade Trying his skill upon the sad; Like a Pied Piper came he down Wandering through each mortal town, While all the world, both old and young, Enchanted by the song he’d sung, Left their work to follow on Down the trails where he had gone. Then the Jester glad and proud Sought his rest beyond the cloud. Weary, and entirely spent, Home again to God he went; While mankind enraptured still Seeks him over the distant hill. Knowing not the path he trod Was the pathway up to God. Katharine Braithwaite