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Page 3 text:
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Typical Memorialite ................ Sally Dowd JANUARY, 1942 LAUREL PAGE Q . . Through The Air With The Greatest OF Ease Four years ago, years that apparently flew like the wind, I set out on my first airplane trip. I didn't know whether I'd succeed or not, perhaps I would have to turn back. I was tto put it lightlyj petrified. But we did not turn back, and during the four-year course involved in journey- ing from the First to the Eighth term, the seventy-eight pilots explained to me, as well as to the other 323 passengers, that there was absolutely no cause for alarm- for we had one of the most famous Catho- lic ace-pilots, and we had boarded one of America's foremost Catholic planes-the Memorial I tried ever so hard to make myself as small as possible, so that the pilots might have more space in which to operate the controls. Ah! But I had forgotten the objective of the ship-co-operative work. And so, along with my fellow passengers, I did my part to keep the Memorial aloft. We hung suspended over the First and Second terms for some time, perhaps a year. I sat tight, no shrimp ever had as many wrinkles as I, my back assumed the characteristics of a closed concertina. Up ahead the cloud labeled f'Algebra Regentsn loomed jeeringly. I had an opportunity to review my entire past life as we neared the cloud-my good deeds, of which there were few, my misdeeds, of which there were many. I wondered if I would be missed at home should the Algebra cloud decide not to let me pass. Then one of the pilots noticed that the time-clock registered 1939. We began, therefore, to cruise above the Sophomore Year. It occurred to me to win the re- spect of the pilots by appearing confident. So I forced myself to peer over the side of the ship. The earth was dropping away so fast-proposition No. Z, proposition No. 38, proposition No. 51. f'Smile-keep a grin on your face! my unconscious self kept repeating. I couldn't have closed my mouth had I wanted to. Finally by bow- ing my head I shut my jaws. Ouch, there was Caesar playing again-whacking me in the face with my chin strap. The plane sped along faster and faster, and at last that everlasting pest, Julius, departed. We began our third year of flight. The Pitman family had a little frolic with their father, Isaac. They ad- vanced to the front of the plane-and every time one of those tiny shaded figures struck me, I shuddered. That was about all there appeared to be in the fiight for me . . . huddles, shrinks and shudders. Bump! A slight jar! Airpockets! We had dropped, or shall I say had risen, to our Seniority! The machine was intact. Good old machine! Nice old Memorial! Suddenly I relaxed. A feeling of delight- ful content surged through me. We were approaching Graduation. The absolute futility I had felt at the outset receded fContinued on page 19, column 21 If Catherine S chustef' Q,efQeiWe 'T il we meet again, Catherine Schuster, we will remember your casual air of in- formality, your lilting laughter that echoed and re-echoed so often through our Laurel Room 5 the rhythmic grace of your dance steps. We think there will be a strange emptiness here when you leave. It isn't only your spirit of generosity, your persist- ance or your genial hospitality-so perfect for putting 'fCubs at their ease. It's something much deeper than that-an in- defrnable, a lovable quality-we call it Shush. Carol Young, remember ye old year 1941, when on the tenth of December you hesitantly mounted the stairs leading to Memorial's stage and delivered a speech on your favorite topic, the LAUREL. Again, remember a dusk-filled auditorium and your rendition of the old and the new, the haunting refrainsg your hastily scribbled sketches, your magic poetry, your rambling chatter. Orator, pianist, artist, poetess, Carol-you leave us breathless. Mary Lynch, we consider you and 'fDriftwood,' synonymous-the very es- sence of expression and originality. Light laughter rippling from the fountain of youth enhanced your every movement with an effortless grace which we found de- lightful. You are the bundle of energy which proves that aged maxim Good things come in small packages. Genevieve Reilly, your spirited friendli- ness and constant merriment will provide you with some of life's most useful equip- ment. Practical' you are and generous- almost to a fault. Yours is a friendship that will always be valued, for it has im- parted to us, its willing recipients, a glow of beauty so warm, it will neither falter and a truthfulness so deep, it will last for- ever. 'Til we meet again, Laurelitesg the im- pressions you have made in our hearts and on our memories will remain. Your Choice For 1 Most Likely to Succeed .... Genevieve Reilly Most Popular .................... Mary Murphy Most School Spirit ...... Catherine Schuster Most Attractive .......... Most Talented ...... Best Actress ....... Perfect Lady .............. Best Dancer ....... Best Artist ...... Best Pianist ....... Best Singer ......... Most Brilliant ...... Most Sophisticated Perfect Secretary . Champ Typist ...... Most Wit ........ Catherine Kelly Carol Young Dolores Sheehan Anna Marie Collins .. Bernadette Kelly Marian Leahy Teresa Sumptef Mary Murphy Justine Jones Marie Corbett Irene Grassman . ...... Isabelle De Mita Angela Mignano Best Athlete .................... Louise Sheehan Orchestra .................................... Mr. T. D. Song .......... Piano Concerto B Flat Minor Favorite Book .... Keys of the Kingdom Radio Program ........................ Bob Hope Singers ...... Bob Eberly, Helen OlConnell Moving Picture .... Blossoms in the Dust Actress ............. ................. B ette Davis Actor ..... ...... S pencer Tracy They fro hdzjenf ,mggrf UDeath's but a path that must be trod, If man would ever pass to God. On June 8th, in our Senior year, Magda- lena Braun was called to the Court of God, as a representative of our class, leaving behind memories that will linger through the years. Her pleasant words, her cheer- ful smile, and her willing offers to assist, endeared her to all who had the unforget- table pleasure of her acquaintance. During this, our last Semester, Christ beckoned to Regina Smith and joyously she answered Him. We, who are left here, mourn her departure, we revere her mem- ory. Even now she is supremely jubilant near her Master's throne because she glo- riously triumphed over death and arrived ffhomef' A silent tribute for these honor gradu- ates springs from the hearts of the gradu- ation class of February, 1942, as we pre- pare to embark on a new phase of lifels journey. We sincerely trust that our be- loved classmates 'fhave been brought far from the shadow of exile to the bright home of Heaven, where Christ and His Blessed Mother have woven for them a crown of unending blissfl
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PAGE 2 LAUREL JANUARY, 1942 THE LAUREL Published by the students of BISHOP MCDONNELL MEMORIAL HIGH SCHOOL 260 Eastern Parkway, Brooklyn, N. Y. a n is Y .-fffdix' CHARTER I IXIEIXIBER .Rs-f,f 4 ... if rg scnobt -- LAUREL STAFF Editor-in-Chief ......,..,.. CATHERINE SCHUSTER, '42 Associate Editor .,.,....,.4.,........... CAROL YOUNG, '42 ASSISTANT EDITORS Feature Editor ,4,.....,..........,..,... MARY LYNCH, '42 Class News Editor ........ ROSEMARY GILMORE, '42 News ,......,.............,,. ......,. E ILEEN MAHONEY, '42 L-t H S KATHLEEN DOYLE, '43 Z wary ' l GLORIA DONAHUE, '43 Sports ...,...,........ s...,,.,.. . , EILEEN SWEENEY, '42 Photographer .....,.. MARKIARET DEMPSEY, '42 Exchange .,.,,.s..,........,,..,..,.......... MARY CERVINI, '42 Humor ......,...L....s,.,.,...,........,.. MARTHA BLANCK, '43 BUSINESS STAFF Circulation Manager ........ GENEVIEYE REILLY, '42 ANNA DIMIZIO, '42 Secretaries ........,..,s...............,.. RUTH GABRIEL, '42 L AGNES KENNA, '42 GRADE REPORTERS ELIZABETH CLANCY, '43 EILEEN MEALY, '43 MARY HYLAND, '43 JOAN MURPHY, '43 HELEN MCARTHUR, '43 PATRICIA RYAN, '43 EVELYN WILLSON, '43 .,g D 51 Lefs Face lt So you think that you have caught up with life! You think that in the race which has been run, you have been the pursuer. Don't deceive yourself, Miss Graduate. It is Life which has caught up with you. For too many years, she has dogged your footsteps like a persistent shadow. N ow she can no longer be avoided. You cannot turn your back to her in the fu- ture, you must face her. There, we've said it, you must face the world, tomorrow, what graduation is go- ing to mean to you-you who are bravely meeting the fact that now you are a woman with a woman's problems to solve --a woman's life to lead. And the burden, the responsibilities which till now you have not been asked to carry, the oppres- sions which have laden your shadow- what of them? They are yours now, yours to be borne, yours to be utilized as anti-toxin against the dreaded failure. Yes, graduation will mean many things to you. It will open unknown vistas of opportunity. But these Cbe sure you real- ize itj, will not be sighted if you travel with a ticket of leisure. It means more striving, more endeavor, more sacrifices. It is an introduction to harder and sturdier, more strenuous efforts. It is merely the doorway to a school of responsible and de- manding tasks: of increasing and exacting qualifications. Contact with life to be conquered will not be fun but it is no cause for a faint heart. Don't let the world of reality defeat you. You are young, you need not fear, for as long as you sow your seeds wisely there is ffhope for a harvest. Ebb Tide Ebb tide-it's carrying us out to sea. How fast the sands of Memorial are fad- ing from our view, how swiftly we are be- ing borne from their vicinity. We have lain on Bishop's beach so long. Sometimes, it seemed that the wave which would catch us in its foamy teeth and bear us to a foreign port would never come. Sometimes, we did not wish it to. We wanted to lie where we were forever, like a fish washed up by the tide of life. Yes, there were moments when we yearned for the security and carefree happiness of school life. But there were other mo- ments, too -- moments when curiosity aroused within us a thirst for a quenching draught of adventure, moments when we desired to discover for ourselves whether or not the principles to which we were being schooled were practical, whether or not the plan of life we were adopting was feasible. Our world was one of certainty and we longed for one of uncertainty. We were sick of being ostracized from realism, we were too full of youth's singing courage. To discover, to Contact magic cities tinged with shadow and light, dreams and dis- aster, to meet success and failures, to be- come a part of the great knot of tangled lives which time alone unravels, to mingle with people of all types-rich and poor, important and unimportant, young and old -this was our desire. We longed to know how it would feel to be plunged into a whirlpool, at last we are going to find out. And we shall need all the balancing powers in our possession to keep our heads above water. We are going to need equilibrium, we are going to need common sense. It will take a good deal of effort, a good deal of fighting to keep our ideals from being dampened. It is hard to sail in an open boat and not get wet. Yet, it is equally true that Where there is a will, there is a way. More im- probable things than water-resistance have been proved possible. 5 f 4 I E 1 7 QW! Yes, tomorrow is upon us-impatient and demanding. Like a spoiled child. And yesterday-is but a bucket of ashes -ashes upon which there can be no look- ing back, ashes from which we can glean a faint glow of courage and then cast them forever to the winds of forgetfulness. Who can tell what the answer to the riddle of tomorrow will be? Who can tell into what unknown region the magnetic tide of on- rushing time will propel us? There is only left for us waiting-waiting with the cer- tainty deep in our hearts that there is no storm so violent that it can penetrate the slicker with which our Catholic education has provided us and that in any event if winter comes, can spring be far behind ? CQQQ .s Cgfzfluoay On every side a new path leads, Hands direct my choice And life's clear charts look new and shine, And some delight this will of mine. But is it Thine? 'Tis said in every woman's heart Sweet sacrifice is sown. ' She turns to cure all aches and ill- It does seem noble, God, but still, Is it Thy Will? Or shall I be a chosen soul And have Thee for my Spouse, A gift so pure, like unto none? Vain hopes, desires, I have but one- Thy Will be done. Repeated Erformance Atop a snow-covered mountain, a girl stands. Flushed with excitement and cold she gazes down at the twisting, winding trail that is suddenly enveloped in the black folds of night. Our skier pauses be- fore she gives a final tug to her ski strap and glides down that path into an unpre- dictable tomorrow that will yield a shining future. Poised at the summit she appears so young, so defenseless, so unprepared to tackle the curves of the perilous slope. Yet, with inexperienced youth as her one obstacle the blackness of night gives way to the grayness of morning, for our skier is not as unprepared as the first glance would have us believe. She turns to mo- mentarily view her past. Sheltered for four years from the ups and downs of life-fitted ffto the teeth with Catholic standards and ideals, counseled and ad- vised by a priceless faculty, equipped with wisdom from these sages, she is ready to swerve to and fro as she laughingly races the wind, the moon and the stars down the mountainside. With a quick laugh her reverie is shat- tered. She tightens her strap and glides down the bank, o'er the glistening snow and her words, thrust backward to those guid- ing stars, are caught by the wind and are echoed and re-echoed down the mountain- sfide- Thank you - God Bless You. lic AJ UB- srr ha co o A I alt Se ye ma ch ah 104 re' clt fe' m: at, no tir th Y4 SP Sc of so 35 gr ke mi in wa th ar de fii fr' va til m af hi hz or G S1 fu al ft
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PAGE 4 LAUREL JANUARY, 1942 onnef on Qjoufl. Give them their dreams-resplendant, fine and free, Seek not to still or quench their laughter 833'- Theirs is a song that time will snatch away As time stops every lovely melody. O, never question youth, or make them see- They know so well what you would strive to say: That youth's short hour is but a golden day Untouched by vision of reality. O, let them build their castles in the air And let them conquer worlds beyond the moon For youth will end when hope is crushed. Its tune Is silent then that once had been so fair. So soon the touch of time will turn to mold These fantasies. And youth will then grow Old ---- CAROL YoUNo, f42. The French Orphans Listen my children and you shall hear, of the very sad plight of our four years. CW hat an attempt at sublime poetry! J We were the French group, 'ftres francais and very mistreated. We were the women without an official class, we were the paper strewn to the winds. We were dis- tributed so often we made ttThe Man Without a Countryl' look insignificant. In spite of everything, we survived and are here to relate our story. For French read- ers it is a Utriste histoiref' We may have had our rebellious mo- ments but we always had Kathryn Liddy to help us 'ftoe the mark. Then there were: Irene Dolan with her accuracy, and Eileen Costello with her rapid diction, Eileen Donohue, with her forgetfulness to remember, and Eileen McCarthy, the most interrogated member of 'fNotre Classef! Muriel Dorff with her honeyed phrases and Helen Litts with the voice made just for French songs, can never fade from memory. Though we loved them all, Kathleen Cassidy, a particular 'fjeune f1lle, received our deepest respect, for she gave to the French class a certain vitality, a definite zest. Her translations were a frolic for students, but good sports as were she and her companions, jean Carroll and Barbara Byrns-in the very best French manner, they grinned and bore it. So if we never should see romantic France with her magnificent cathedrals of Notre Dame, Chartres, Amiens and Rheims or the France of History with Les In- valides, le Louvre or the Eiffel Tower, we shall at least have had a glimpse of a great brave land, where even in the dust of con- querors she still stands proud and beauti- ful. France cannot die as long as her lan- guage and customs reign. Here in Amer- ica, forty-five young, American girls have indeed taken France to their hearts. CCorztin1zed on page 5, column 25 Ilinllmn the Eeahrrz May we presentg Senior Presidents? First meet Mary Murphy. Mary holds the unique honor of having been elected President eight succes- sive terms. Her mag- netically gay personal- ity, her ready wit and her beautiful voice combine to make her Memorial's most popular Senior. Naturally you num- ber among your ac- quaintances Susanne Maccari. More than once her name has soared to the top of the honor roll. But out- side of being a con- scientious student, Susanne has a delight- fully charming manner that insures her future success. Few graduates pos- sess that easy, ef- fortless grace so very typical of our Alice Downey. She is the type person whom you like instinctively and instantly because of her obvious good na- ture. Hers is a warm friendliness that her classmates find quite irresistible. V lg Ti. A Margaret McCauley will, of course, always be associated in our minds with music and the Memorial orches- tra which was one of her outstanding inter- ests during high school. She is noted for her ability to co-operate and for her spirit of combined good humor and sweetness. Kathryn Liddy is an individual who has cer- tain charm-vivacious, yet calm, merry, yet serious, surprising, yet practical. Her school work has always been outstanding, as has her popularity among her classmates who cannot help but notice and appreciate her many fine qualities. Marilyn Hoelf , ' last of the Se:.if S' A 'f Presidents. Sh bursts with energ, , merriment and enthus- iasm - an enthusiasm that is happily con- tagious. Her 'rk eyes sparkle .th animation when she talks-some- thing she does very often. gexlefniewn Ah that I might be again seventeenlv So raves the poet and on raves the dream: ffWhen life's lovely joys are delightful and bright And love is the sunshine that follows the nightfl A is A t'Well you may wish, says the lad who is young, UT o go once again to the dead past among Friends long departed and days long ago When life was all pleasure with never a woe. wr :k :ef But have you forgotten the flaws in your dream? All was not rosy as first it did seem- Remember the sorrowful partings, the strife, The tears and the struggles and failings of life? wk 11: :xc Pleasures are earned at a cost much too dear When you are facing your seventeenth year. wk A we Heed these wise words that the young man has said Be glad and rejoice that you're sixty in- stead! RITA DEINHARDT, '42. And Genny Dreams 011 September, 1941 Let the meeting come to order, Ladies! After due consideration we have been chosen for the truly meritorious positions of HLAUREL Circulatorsf' In this capacity we must assume a serious contemplation of our responsibilities, or do I frighten you? At any rate we are now floor man- agers and it is our job to cleverly bring the orders in and cheerfully distribute the papers. Easy? Or am I wrong again? Well girls, you know your jobs. Use tact, use personality, use anything but brutal- ity, but bring in the money and Weill help make our LAUREL a real success! Go to it! Meeting's adjourned. January, 1942 Well-here we are again-f'kinda fee- ble and gray, but alive and triumphant. It wasn't half the job we thought it would be, was it? Why, instead of begging for the orders as we thought we'd have to, we were swamped by eager classes fight- ing to obtain a coveted 100 per cent pay- mer-t an the LAUREL! It's been a busy year tdies-but now our job is finished and 'hen we receive that rolled white dip' ma certifying our loyalty and success we will have resigned our positions. Oth- ers will follow and to them may we pro- pose Good Luck and Success. And thus do we adjourn-for the last time. GENEVIEVE REILLY, '42.
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