Billerica Memorial High School - BMHS Yearbook (Billerica, MA)

Page 23 text:

FIFTY-THIRD: 1, Norman Fitzpatrick, leave my enjoyable lab periods to George Clark. FIFTY-FOURTH: I, Barbara Ducharme, leave my broken pen- cils to Roberta Pelletier. FIFTY-FIFTH: I, Joseph Dwyer, leave my crooked seat in room 21 to some unfortunate undergrad. FIFTY-SIXTH: I, Richard Donnelly, leave my academic aptitude to my brother, George. FIFTY-SEVENTH: I, Phyllis Derby, leave my secretarial train- ing to Dorothy Benson. FIFTY-EIGHTH: I, Nancy Dempsey, leave my mischievous ways to Nancy Dill, who really doesn ’t need them. FIFTY-NINTH: I, Patricia Hall, leave Doris Bevis my desk in Room 21, to be available in September. SIXTIETH: I, Ruth Weaver, leave my English homework to Mary Doherty. SIXTY-FIRST: I, Mary Twombly, leave my study periods to my sister, Ruth. SIXTY-SECOND: I, Richard Wolf, leave my English marks to some unfortunate individual. SIXTY-THIRD: I, Harold Wilson, leave my Latin class with some knowledge. SIXTY-FOURTH: I, Catherine Sullivan, leave Betty Hatzberger my seat in “21.”’ SIXTY-FIFTH: 1, Carole Stuart, leave to make better provisions for a natural living. SIXTY-SIXTH: I, Ruth Strom, leave to start my football “team.” SIXTY-SEVENTH: I, Gordon Sorli, leave my seat in English to anyone who wants it. SIXTY-EIGHTH: I, Edward Smith, leave my chemistry problems to Betty Ann. BIALY-NINTH: I, Harold Pitts, leave. SEVENTIETH: I, Marion Todd, leave my detention slips to my sister, Nancy. SEVENTY-FIRST: I, William Sutton, leave my pie recipes to Mrs. Dooley and the crumbs to the floor. SEVENTY-SECOND: 1, Frances Padula, leave my best wishes to my sister, Rosemarie. SEVENTY-THIRD: I, Charles O’Hara, leave hoping to return on visits only. SEVENTY-FOURTH: I, Mary Alice O’Connell, leave my seat in Room 21 to anyone that follows. SEVENTY-FIFTH: I, George Nutting, leave Room 21 quiet. SEVENTY-SIXTH: I, Charles MacDonald, leave with no regrets. SEVENTY-SEVENTH: I, Barbara Lyons, leave my seat in Eng- lish IV to my brother, Sonny, who will really appreciate it. (1 think!) SEVENTY-EIGHTH: I, Dorothy Lunt, leave all three constitu- ents of my Lab supplies to future chemists. SEVENTY-NINTH: I, June Baroni, leave my books and marks to my brother, who needs them. The foregoing document, (having been read and approved by all concerned), is declared, in the presence of all, to be the one and only (the legal) last Will and Testament of the Senior Class of 1950 and by request of the said class these people do hereunto subscribe their names as wit- nesses thereto. CLASS OF 1950 HAROLD PITTS MARJORIE MORAN BARBARA LYONS EDWARD SMITH MARY RABIDOU

Page 22 text:

TWENTY-SECOND: I, Joan Keefe, leave Howe High with fa- vorite memories of my “sophomore pugilistic encounters” with the teachers. TWENTY-THIRD: I, Alden Cousins, leave my faithful little car to next year’s senior play stage manager. TWENTY-FOURTH: I, Robert Corkum, leave my clean white practice socks to roam the locker room. TWENTY-FIFTH: I, Nancy Conway, leave my one “A” in Eng- lish to Guy Wilson. TWENTY-SIXTH: I, Charles Condon, leave my ability to answer questions in economics to Bill Cooper. TWENTY-SEVENTH: I, Phyllis Caterino, leave my English book to Florie Potsus. TWENTY-EIGHTH: I, John Capobianco, leave my black curly hair to “Mr. Lynch.” TWENTY-NINTH: I, Georgina Capen, leave my ink bottle to room 21. THIRTIETH: JI, Charlotte Bernard, leave my fond memories of Howe to Jackie Allan with the hope that she will have as many. THIRTY-FIRST: I, Mary Luciano, leave my grades to my broth- er, Ralph. THIRTY-SECOND: I, Jeanette Locke, leave Précis book to my sister, Tessie. THIRTY-THIRD: I, Milton Gullage, leave my knowledge of Eng- lish III and IV to Thomas Condon. THIRTY-FOURTH: Il, Jessie Frobese, leave my English vocab- ulary notebooks to my sister, Jean. THIRTY-FIFTH: I, Peggy Forbes, leave my quiet ways and soft laughter to Sheila Koons, who needs them. THIRTY-SIXTH: I, Douglas Cummings, leave to all tired stu- dents the plans for a silent alarm clock, to be used in the study hall. THIRTY-SEVENTH: I, Muriel Crouse, leave my knowledge of chemistry to Sushila Mitra. THIRTY-EIGHTH: I, Cornelius Cusick, leave my quarterback position on the football team to Donald Wentworth. THIRTY-NINTH: I, Mary Arsenault, leave everything I never had to Betty Cameron. FORTIETH: I, Dale Crandall, leave my English talents (ahem) to George McGurn. FORTY-FIRST: I, Ludolph W. Megow, leave my mathematical knowledge to my brother, William. FORTY-SECOND: I, Kenneth McElhiney, leave my position as center to Billy Robbins. FORTY-THIRD: I, Marilyn MacDonald, leave what little spell- ing ability I have to Betty Mason. FORTY-FOURTH: 1, Lillian Brown, leave my new basketball jacket to Christle Hutchings. FORTY-FIFTH: I, Noreen Leahy, leave a pound of hot dogs to Mr. Lynch. FORTY-SIXTH: I, Clara Joyce, leave my English book to my sis- ter, Barbara. FORTY-SEVENTH: I, John Hulett, leave my two-speed yo-yo with an over-drive to Bob Miller. FORTY-EIGHTH: I, Dorothy Holden, leave my leaky pen to Joan Saunders. FORTY-NINTH: I, Donald Hamilton, leave my way with women to Dick Belcher. FIFTIETH: I, George Hallenborg, leave my seat on the basketball bench to Ted Cummings. FIFTY-FIRST: I, Gordon Gurney, leave my few extra pounds to “Wee Willie, the Whiz.” FIFTY-SECOND: I, Eugene Flint, leave to Paul Johansen all my detention slips,

Page 24 text:

Les IE rophecy — 1960 Silence as heavy as Mrs. Dooley’s biscuits weighed down the intense group of seniors awaiting Mr. Lynch’s signal. ‘One minute to go. Are you ready?” he asked in a “Digger O’Dell’” voice. Silence. The awesome thought of seeing the future appear before their very eyes left them aghast. They were hearing footsteps on their graves. Mr. Lynch was about to throw over the main switch on their in- vention, the “Television of the Fu- ture.” The intricate machine has been perfected theoretically, but this was the zero moment for the actual test. With the unfaltering hand of an executioner, he threw the switch and pandemonium reigned. The World of Tomorrow was the World of Today! The years 1951, 52, ’53 — with familiar faces! Howe High graduates broke upon the huge screen. There were housewives, teachers, drivers, lawyers, doctors, jailbirds, office workers, policemen, servicemen, and service women. All Howe High pupils, actors on the screen of the future! 1954, 755, ’56— with town politicians, traffic en- gineers, bus drivers, harassed mothers, hen-pecked dads, slot machine ad- dicts, musicians, radio mechanics, legislators, geologists! 1957, ’58, 759 — 60! Mr. Lynch staggered. His tremulous fingers reached out and stopped the machine at that year. He just couldn’t take any more! He wasn’t so young as he used to be. 1960 was far enough into the future as he cared to intrude! The group in the darkened room sighed with relief. 1960 was future enough for them, too! Why, they would be practically old men and women then! They didn’t want things mapped out for them; they wanted to do and dare! Ah!! They straightened in their seats. What was going on at St. John’s? Well! Well! There were “Mama” STROM and ‘Daddy” CU- SICK and their noisy, bright-eyed quintruplets. The place was swarming with reporters and excited doctors. The four grandparents kept peeking at the babies, naming them, and agreeing that their children always were extraordinary ! The silent group held their breaths when the gorgeous “Venus” TODD, nationally known Calendar and Cover Girl, struck them between the eyes as she posed for a United States postage stamp. Then the strains of martial music filled the room as Col. DALE CRANDALL cadenced off, ‘““Hup, 2, 3, 4— Hup, 2, 3, 4 — Company, halt! At ease!’ The colonel examined and inspected the W.A.F. Company. With a quiet grin, he said: “Those of you airmen who have problems, and even if you have no problems, come to me for help. Don’t bother the chap- lain; he’s a busy man!” The well-intentioned colonel and his women faded out, and “Fas- cinating’’” SULLIVAN appeared on the screen like a glorious sunrise. Jean peeked out through a cloud of gayly-colored balloons; her bare, shapely