Bellows Free Academy - Alpha Omega Yearbook (St Albans, VT)

 - Class of 1953

Page 15 of 64

 

Bellows Free Academy - Alpha Omega Yearbook (St Albans, VT) online collection, 1953 Edition, Page 15 of 64
Page 15 of 64



Bellows Free Academy - Alpha Omega Yearbook (St Albans, VT) online collection, 1953 Edition, Page 14
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Bellows Free Academy - Alpha Omega Yearbook (St Albans, VT) online collection, 1953 Edition, Page 16
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Page 15 text:

B. F. A. Mercury Seniors OfjLTC6TS PRESI IJENT THOMAS PIERCE VICE-PR ES I DENT S USAN GAINES SECRETARY NANCY FOSTER TREASURER KATHLEEN RILEY Good Citizens SUSAN GAI NES HUWAR D RHODES

Page 14 text:

12 B. F. A. Mercury Q vice o by I am a poet, You'd never know it. My feet show it: They're longfellows. Here we all sit, quite broken-hearted, The Senior class will soon be departed. Well, goodness me! How time passes, Soon we will leave the underclasses. But don't cry and don't you fret, All's not lost, we ain't left yet. So, to comfort you in your grieving, Here's some advice before our leaving. To the juniors: these words sagacious, Please do grow up and act your ages. To the Sophomores: Toe the mark! An upperclassman's life is no lark. To the Freshmen: fsophomores I meanj In the coming year don't be so green. To the incoming Freshmen with their eager faces: Always mind your elders and remember your places. For those of you who don't like my rhyme Plug your ears, I've got lots of time. In the next part of my little ditty, Individuals I advise a little bitty. Give the girls a break, don't be so coy Peter Bostwick, you're a nice looking boy. Rodney Richards must really be on the ball For him I have no advice, nothing at all! To that dashing young fellow, Joe Briere, Why don't you set some girl's heart on fire? Undefzgfzaduafes TOM HALL And now to the girls for just a while, Nonny Hewitt, must you always smile? To Jill Brown, who talks with ease, Keep it up, it makes a nice breeze. This poem of min-e is really a dilly, Not very long, but really very silly. To Roddy Vallee and to Betty White: Must you see each other every night? To Wendell Gilbert, that happy young wit, Regarding the water pistol, get rid of it. Dick Cruickshank, stop your giggling. Janet Fallon, you stop your wiggling. Beverly is advised to bid Ted farewell, CFor next year, he'll be gone to-the air To the incoming inhabitants of Room 21 Be good to Mr. Comi, for he's lots of fun. For those of you who have Mr. Mackinnon next year, Just mind your grammar and there's nothing to fear. force.D To teachers now my verse's directed, At them I throw my barbs infected. To Mister Leavitt Cfor he's a starj, Stick to volleyball, You'll go far. Dear Miss Beeman, always be fussy That the bus driver's name is Bussy. To you, Mister White, please have no fears, Therelll be Pierces here for years and years. If anyone by my rhyme I've offended, I'm sorry, there's no harm intended. Now like the cat that's lying across a rail, Here comes a train-'tis the end of my tail. Vu 0 -ur '1i :a.f' 2:3 0, 101503 ' ID A :gy WUI! 'T'



Page 16 text:

14 B. E A. Mercury caggwiIwaicwIwetcwiivceteavilvsetcwivmicrwiwetcwimeicwi.woYcwiMeYc'w..veo'fow..vpf5ge3 t' ' Glass fzophecml - r:7tiC,4A1IsapiensIieaaicwlIswineIIsegicgaaIlseogcaaIIsegieaaIlswggwllswgcwilwagcpallewgwalldjjij Jon Sanborn and Patricia Fitzgerald In the year 1963, I was seated in a luxurious Pan American Clipper, which was to take me from La Guardia Airport to Mecca, Arabia. As I felt the ship move, I checked my wallet once again to see that I had the bank draft of 150,000 dollars, signed by J. C. Penney himself , with which I had been instructed to purchase the most famous and most talked about Arabian rug in the world. I put the bank draft back in my pocket and tried to get a few hours of sleep before I should start my search and endless bargaining for this precious rug. As I entered a dingy shop, I realized that I was not the first to come in quest of this rug, for a tall, dark man was already bartering with the owner. Where had I heard that voice before? A stray shaft of light revealed the young man's face and to my amazement I recognized Gerald Coon, whom I later found out was representing the Wool- worth Company. Naturally it did not take me long to outbid the Woolworth Company, and in a moment I was the owner of the most fabulously beautiful rug in the world. I hurried back to the hotel and spread the rug on the Hoor. As I was kneeling on it, I muttered to myself that I could hardly wait to fly back home with my precious possession. As I uttered the word fly . the rug rose from the fioor and swooped out through the open window into the bright sunlight. I now realized that I had purchased no common rug, but one which possessed the qualities of the magic carpets of the days of the Arabian nights. Little did I dream that before the rug would be placed in the hands of J. C. Penney, I would see all of the boys in the class of 1953. As I sped westward, I noticed below me a snowy slope where people seemed to be skiing. At the command of down, my carpet descended quickly. The first skier whom I recognized was Andrea Mead Lawrence. I heard her ask some friends to come and see her young son and his two fine ski instructors. Curious as to who they might be, I followed along. As I came nearer, I was startled to recognize Tom Pierce and Keith Gould patiently instruct- ing Andreafs little ten year old son. As I was beginning to feel chilly, I stepped back upon my rug and headed to- wards France. Never having seen Paris, I gently dropped onto the main business street. I was very surprised to find that a new AcizP market was being opened. A loud-speaker an- nounced that the manager of the supermarket was going to officially open the store for business. A suave, dark gentleman stepped forward to cut the ribbon. Of course I should have known it. This man was none other than Maurice Bouchard. Realizing that I must continue my journey back to America, I once again took to the air and headed across England, out over the Atlantic. Horrors! what was this catastrophe below me? I hovered over two battleships which had rammed into each other. A tremendous burst of censorable language was flying between the two ad- mirals. Were my eyes deceiving me or were those men in their spotless uniforms David Berry and John Bushey? Suddenly there was a horrible shriek and a man came from below decks, closely followed by a naval dentist with a pair of forceps in his hands. My guess was correct. The dentist was Raymond Gaboury and the unfortunate sailor was Bernard Rivers. After seeing these three boys, my curiosity was aroused as to whether any boys had stayed in Vermont. As I ap- proached St. Albans, I once again saw B. F. A. But who was that telling some students to keep off the grass? It was none other than Frank Nardine, who was now principal of his alma mater. I landed on the ground and asked Frank if any other boys had stayed in St. Albans. He answered that Arthur Comstock had just opened another Hefflon store in Enosburg Falls. Donald Bombard, so he told me, was still a private First Class in the National Guard, but expected a promotion any day. Bob Longway happened to pass by just then, and he told me that he had just re- ceived an advancement in the Sears-Roebuck Company. He was no longer an assistant stock boy, but the head stock-boy at the local mail order office. I headed north once again and this time my destina- tion was Ottawa, Canada. My magic carpet landed near the entrance of the Parliament Buildings. Upon entering the offices of the official representative of the United States government, I recognized none other than Milford Denner. I was told in Ottawa that I should visit the World's Fair in Chicago which had o ened just a week before. When I arrived at the fair groundrsi, I went over to the champion prize stock exhibits. I was not at all surprised to find the names of Robert Thibault and Gordon Boomhower among the owners of the most valuable of this stock. A loud cackling of chickens attracted my attention to the prize poultry. The foremost name among the owners was none other than that of John Jean. A loud wailing of sirens turned my feet towards the mid-way. As I approached the entrance, I saw just inside the gate the trailer of the manager. On the door of this trailer was written in gilt letters the name of ROBERT TATRO. The crowd seemed attracted to the cycle-drome, where the chief performer was just about ready to begin his act. As he circled closer and closer up the steep sides of the cycle-drome, I recognized Max Trepanier. That afternoon I went to the stock car races. One of the drive1's who captured the most prizes and who had the fastest car proved to be Richard Sears. While I was watch-

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