Battin High School - Red and White Yearbook (Elizabeth, NJ)

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Jade .J47Ql96lfC0l'Lg, efe 0 GW!! ! It ,was an impossibility for a family of our size ftwelve childrenj to be ready for a trip any earlier than ten-thirty in the morning, but inevit- ably Marc and David, my younger brothers, would shake me at eight, whispering, Hurry and put on our bathing suits. We'll be late. Oh, but kids, it's so early! We're not going swimming for a long time yet, would come my annoyed reply. But they always had their way and with their bathing suits on, they would keep crying, Momma, aren't you ready yet? The preparations for our trip to Lake Hopatcong were varied. I really dreaded walking into the kitchen. It was in such turmoil, with Momma running everywhere at once. She told Lee to wash the jug for lemonade, but when she was finally ready for it, we discovered he had gonewith Daddy. One could hardly blame Mom for being upset. Leona, where are the lemons? There are not enough ice cubes. Where is the wax paper? I had it here just a minute ago. ' lt's under the funnies, Ma. Why can't you have things ready for me when I need them? Soon the time came to awaken the three sleeping beauties, my older sisters. This was not so easy as it sounds! The kids would do almost everything but throw cold water into their faces. Finally, the three would stumble down' the steps, half-asleep, complaining about those bad kids: They were getting up right away and there was no need to rush them. When we heard the chugging of the big Buick, we knewthat the rest of the food had arrived. It wouldn't be too long now. Then we heard that dreaded sound just as Marc, David, Diane, Iudy, and Lee were emerging from the car: S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s! A FLAT! Amid the Ohs and Goshes came the calm statement of Daddy: It's better that we have it now than when we get started. Then we had to listen for live minutes to Carole's dramatics as she insisted she wouldn't go swimming if she had to wear that ugly suit. fAt eight Carole wants to be a bathing beautyj. A large family must economize and new bathing suits cannot be bought each year for every- one. The suits were handed down and were often far from being a perfect fit. Last-minute orders were being given by Momma. Diane was carry- ing a bag of food out to the car when she stopped, aghast. uludy! My pants fell! We had our embarrassing moments. Now all that was left for Momma to do was check the kids and miscellaneous items. I Is the food in the trunk? Bring the papers for me to read. Abe, did all the children use the bathroom? I'm not going to stop on the way.

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I am now attending an institution for dancing in the big city. There is a sure-iire method for singling out ballerinas. They spring down 57th Street with elastic steps. Their ebony hair streams dramatically behind them. They stare sophisticatedly through long lashes, literally dripping with mascara, and their scarlet lips are painted into an expression of boredom. Being a member of the Arteestes, I do some pretty unconventional things, although at one time I was a slave to convention and if anyone dared to do anything the least bit shocking in public, I would stare in horror. Convention is now a word that is slowly being eliminated from my vocabulary. I have been rejuvenated. You can see me wandering down 57th Street in a black leotard underneath a gray coat, with a huge black poclcetbook clasped in my gloved hands. A glance downward reveals my feet clad in socks and ballet-slippers. And often the wind mischiev- ously tugs at the hem of my coat, suddenly whipping it away to reveal a pair of bare legs. People's eyes bulge and I have the greatest desire to tap them on the shoulder and say, Pardon me, your eyeballs are showing! If you see me pirouetting through the halls of Battin, think nothing of it, for I merely have delusions of grandeur. I hope to pirouette some day in the halls of fame. For the present, however, let's leave this dancer posed in as graceful an arabesque as she can execute. IANET GOLD, '51 The ballet! The orchestra! On with the show! Be quiet! The footlights Are starting to glow. NANCY HOFFACKER, '50

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Yes, yes, Ma, hurry now! came the chorus of the kids' voices. The car had two folding-chairs in the back, still it was quite a prob- lem to seat fourteen people. We must have looked a lot like the family in Cheaper by the Dozen, only more absurd riding down the streets in our bathing suits. I think I have the seating right. Let's see: Daddy up front, with Momma holding Marc, and Iudy in the middle. The back seat was always a more serious problem. The big girls would not sit on the folding-chairs and the little ones objected because they had sat on them the last time. Lee said grumpily, Daddy, you said we could sit on the big seats this time. Let Estelle and Lucille sit there. It became bedlam with the screaming and yelling until a superior voice rang out: Be quiet, or I'll send all of you back into the house! I'll have my head examined if I take you anywhere again! Momma said, Please, Abe, sh, don't get excited. I'm not excited, he cried indignantly. We younger ones would be subdued for a while, angrily taking our assigned seats while the four haughty older girls looked on. As the saying might go, In summer a child's fancy turns to food. Iudy was eating a plum and Diane grappled with her for a bite. Lee was bothering a bee and a moment later it stung him. Marc was climbing back and forth, undecided as to whether to stay up front or go in the back, being coaxed from both sides. It was like a three-ring circus. Finally, we got started, with some of us crying, others laughing, some contented, some angry, but all going swimming at Lake Hopatcong. LEONA GOLDBLATT, '50