Bellingham High School - Epilogue Yearbook (Bellingham, MA)

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CLASS PROPHECY ( Continued) Foley, and for the last two years had taken the Seniors’ graduation pictures. Walter was once again wearing the uniform of the United States Marines but this time it was that of a snappy officer. Nickey Petrosky, who had always been in¬ terested in radio, is now an announcer for the radio station, WWON, 1240 on your dial, in Woonsocket. During intermission we went over to talk to the members of the band. There we found three more members of our class, Edward Richards was the accordion player, Lucien LeClaire played the piano and Roland Jodoin played the violin. Together with a few others they had started the band which was fast becoming the favorite of the surrounding towns. Just then Eunice Foley and Tommy Nichol¬ son entered the auditorium. Tommy is a first- class carpenter and Eunice holds a secretarial position in a law office in Woonsocket. Eunice said she had just received a letter from Marilyn Cowen who was in Washington on a government job. Nancy had taken a Civil Service Exam the summer after we graduated and had been in Washington ever since except for short visits home. Tommy told us that Gerard Daigle had found what he terms the “perfect job,” $60 a week for working 30 hours and a month’s vacation with pay. For recreation and pleasure Gerard plays on the Alumni basketball team. Two of our classmates who were missing were Mike Berardi and Richard Genereaux who are both engineers now doing construction work in Panama for the United States Government. They had gone to engineering school together and were still together on their first big assign¬ ment. Jimmy Janiszesk i had gone into the real es¬ tate business. His specialty was buying run¬ down homes, repairing them, and then reselling at a profit. Charles Sanford had taken up flying and now has his own plane with which he gives fly¬ ing instructions. At the time of the reunion, Charlie was away on a business trip so therefore was unable to be present. Frances Kinnear came in about ten-thirty with her husband. She had married a few weeks after graduation. She greeted us joyfully and said she had been worried about making it as at the last minute the girl they had engaged to care for their children, a boy and a girl, had called to say she couldn’t make it. They had been lucky enough, however, to find another girl to take her place. Wednesday afternoon all of us went to Paul¬ ine’s studio for our group pictures after which all went to the station to see me off. The train started, and as it gradually gath¬ ered speed, my former classmates slowly faded from sight, leaving many remembrances of those happy hours we spent together. Benr £ n - Wemorfar RfeR ScKmT HBrarv iigfiam, Massachusetts QiOij

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Class Prophecy Irene Wilde It was nearing dusk as the train slowly pulled into the station and I caught a glimpse of my old home town. In the gathering darkness I could see that it hadn ' t changed very much. It had grown a little, a few new stores and shops were scattered here and there, but on the whole it was the same town that I had left ten years before when I began my nursing career. I had entered private nursing and, as I had a week before my next case, decided to stop off at Bel¬ lingham. Except for a car with chief of police written on the door, the station was deserted. I saw the chief coming and walked over to ask if he knew where I might stay. Much to my surprise, the chief was none other than Charles Delaney. He told me to hop in and drove me to their one and only hotel on Maple Street. Chuck conveyed the information that Donald Thayer had gone into the farm business with his father and was doing very well. Donald had evaded marriage so far but it was being rumored about, that at long last, a girl had overcome his resistance to marriage, and had persuaded him that two could live as cheaply as one. As we pulled up in front of the hotel, the chief suddenly turned to me and asked if I had heard that Dave Tuttle was running for governor. Charles was getting as many votes for Dave as possible. Thinking over our school days together, I found it wasn’t hard to picture Dave as a politician. He had always been a good talk¬ er and a likeable chap who could put his ideas across to his audience. Leaving Charles, I entered the hotel and went directly to my room; consequently it was not until the following morning that I met the owner of the hotel. Having ordered my break¬ fast, I glanced across the room and saw Sophie Shahtay, the owner of the establishment, coming over to greet me. The going had been rough at first for Sophie, but the hard times were behind her now and it looked like clear sailing ahead. I asked her if she knew what had become of our classmates and she informed me that Therese Drapeau had started a beauty shop of her own and her partner in this venture was June Gas- kill, our petite, dark-haired classmate. Before parting, plans were made to go shopping in the afternoon. Leaving the hotel about 2 o’clock, we went to a small dress shop where one could buy the latest styles. Jeanne Dubois greeted us with, “May I help you, madame?” Jeanne and Eileen Buckley had gone into business together, Eileen, who had a flair for designing, designed all the clothes sold in the shop and Jeanne took care of the business end. After leaving Jeanne we went to a drug store for a soda and there we met Marie Wilson trimly attired in a nurse’s uniform. The three of us talked over old times together. Marie was now a school nurse and liked her job very much, traveling from one school to another to care for the health of the children. Before we left we made plans to go to the Junior Prom which was to be held at the high school the following eve¬ ning. Marie volunteered to contact as many of our classmates as possible to let them know of our plans. When Marie departed we continued our shopping and bought many odds and ends so that by the time we were ready to start back to the hotel we were heavily laden with bundles. There was no alternative but to hail a passing taxi to speed us on our way. I thought the driver looked familiar but did not recognize him until he turned around and asked us where we wanted to go. I then saw that it was Albert Benoit. He proudly showed us a picture of his twin sons who were four years old. He had married an out-of- town girl and had started a taxi business which was a thriving one. Two other taxis besides the one he himself was driving, were also on the road. When we told him about our plans for the Junior Prom he said he would come with his wife if a nursemaid could be procured for the twins. Early the next morning Marie called to tell us she had been able to get in touch with most of the class and all would come. When Sophie, Marie, and I arrived at the High School, we found some of our classmates there before us. Among them were: Walter Nadonly, Pauline Rossetti, Claire Foley, and Nickey Petrosky. Pauline suggested that we all go to her studio sometime within the next week and have group pictures taken. Pauline had gone into the photography business with Claire

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Class Will We the class of 1947 of Bellingham High School, in the County of Norfolk, in the Com¬ mon v ealth of Massachusetts, being of sound mind and memory, cognizant of the uncertainties of this life, do make and declare this our last will and testament, hereby revoking all former wills and codicils made by said class. To Mr. Granger, our class advisor, we be¬ queath our sincere thanks for the help and guid¬ ance he has given us through this our most dif¬ ficult year. To our respected principal, Mr. Collins, who has openly professed his interest in masterpieces of art and literature we bequeath the inscrip¬ tions on the desk covers. To Miss Ballou, we leave an English Class that will be more appreciative of the gram¬ matical elements than we were. To Miss Silverson, we bequeath a shorthand class that will see how rapidly it can take dic¬ tation, and not how slowly the period passes. To Miss Kaczor, we leave the bad impression of the Senior Class we gave her in study periods and hope she has forgiven us. As a special gift to Mr. Keough, we leave a pole with a nail on the end to aid him in picking up bits of paper in his clean up campaign. The school is much neater now, ISN’T TIT? To the rest of the faculty we bequeath our gratitude for having tolerated us during our four years of study. To T. J. Bennet, we leave the key to happi¬ ness, although the key to his heart seems to be lost around the corner of North Main and Hart¬ ford Avenue. To Patricia McMahon, we entrust the care of Pauline Rossetti’s book, How to Be a Pracitcal Joker and Still Keep Your Friends. We are cer¬ tain that “Pat” has the ability to carry on after Pauline. To those who wish to know of a delightful shade of red for the toupe of the future, we be¬ queath the memory of those brilliant locks of Red Daigle. To Rose Potter and Joan Vayette, we leave straight jackets so they can control their over abundance of pep when necessary. To Freda Schafer, we bequeath a white line detector used by Eileen Buckley, so she can stay on her own side of the street while driving. To those unfortunates who have formed en¬ tangling alliances, we leave Claire Foley’s fickle¬ ness. To Muriel Perreault, we leave a loud speak¬ er to be used in cheering so she won’t have to exercise her lungs to such an extent. The flash light seen many times in use by “Red” Daigle, we leave to Tracy Garneau, with which we hope Tracy will look on the bright side of things. To Velma Kwiatkowski, we bequeath a switch board; we always heard that Velma was a big time operator. To any vagabond student frequently wan¬ dering from our institution of learning to seek new acquaintances and especially interested in the Uxbridge trend, we bequeath the congenial companionship of David Tuttle, whose traveling instinct turns toward the west. To Lillian Dubois, we leave her sister Jean¬ nette’s lady-like manners and we know that Lil¬ lian will continue to be the perfect lady her sis¬ ter was. To Clifford Stead, we bequeath a movie con¬ tract with M.G.M. to play one of the characters in OUR GANG. To quiet, shy, Bib Tuttle, who never says a word, we leave Charley Delaney’s never ending flow of nonsense with which “Bib” could easily become the most talkative boy in his class. To the boys who ride on the school bus we leave a book of Etiquette, so they can conduct themselves properly. They evidently never heard of “Ladies Before Gentlemen.” To our school we leave the spots of green paint on the floors of rooms 9 and 10, in memory of the Junior Prom we held.