Boston Latin School - Liber Actorum Yearbook (Boston, MA)

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PER ARDUA, AD ASTRA.

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r??T:r. CLASS VI: 1956-1957 Our first full day at Boston Latin School began at 8:30 A.M. on the morning of September 13, 1956, when 526 awe-inspired sixies gathered in the assembly hall to be assigned to their respective homeroom masters. Then, with the headmaster ' s warning that only one of every three would receive a diploma ringing in our ears, we filed meekly to our homerooms and into a new era of our lives. The next few days were nightmarish as we wandered aimlessly through the corridors and became acquainted with the real meaning of homework in the form of fundamentals of Latin and English grammar, geography, arithmetic, and science. The first hectic days slowly gathered momentum and the year began to melt away, as did many of our classmates. The soberin g, ever recurring scene of a friend returning his books and having his transfer form signed must have inspired many of us with a fearful determination to succeed. Suddenly we understood the meaning of pressure. While we no longer saw as much T.V.( ?), we could not help being aware of the autumn headlines. In late Octo- ber the flames of smouldering Hungarian Nationalism burst into a full-scale uprising against the oppression of Soviet imperialism. The courageous “freedom fighters” captured the imagination of the Free World as they over- threw the Communist puppet regime and gained a brief taste of freedom. However, the Russians’ diplomatic de- ceit and military might soon crushed the revolt. Fear of igniting World War III prevented the Western Powers and the UN from intervening. Simultaneously the Suez crisis erupted when French and British troops invaded Egypt to prevent President Nasser from seizing the vital canal. World peace hung in the balance while the United States sided with Russia in condemning her allies for aggression. France and Great Britain soon yielded to world opinion, but the mending of relations and the clearing of the canal took considerably longer. In November President Eisenhower was re-elected by an overwhelming majority. The outstanding athletic event of the autumn was un- doubtedly the first perfect game in world series history pitched by the Yankees’ Don Larsen. In school athletics loyal “sixies” followed the fortunes of an undefeated Latin eleven which climaxed the season with a thrilling Thanksgiving Day come-from-behind vic- tory, 19-12, at Braves Field. A few brave classmates took their first athletic steps when Ed Bell and Ed Quinn be- came members of the V and VI track team. As they always have, the Christmas Holidays now brought a welcome respite to a noticeably depopulated Class of ’62 which froliced through a week of no home- DO YOU REMEMBER? A ml Kvj George F. Barry - i For most, the winter months were much less grueling than those of the fall. The fact that we were “learning the ropes” at Latin School was reflected in improving report cards. The differences between conjugations and declensions was becoming increasingly apparent, as was the meaning of the mysterious arrows on the stairwell walls and of the purple arm bands worn by cafeteria mar- shals. The search for the fabled swimming pool was abandoned, and fewer tickets for riding the elevators were purchased. Defiant “sixies” now roamed the cor- ridors with increasing aplomb and decreasing fear of being shut in remote lockers. No longer were they daunted by the hisses and the c atcalls of upperclassmen whom they nevertheless gave wide berth. The manly sen- iors commanded singular respect, for, indeed they were full-grown men merely enduring the formality of their final year and possessing as much prestige and authority as any of the younger masters. There was always room for them at the front of the lunch line. Their lazy gait down the third floor corridors symbolized unchallenged supremacy. Oh, to be a senior! Well, some day. V, m Lloyd A. Hechinger CLASS work and promptly sank beneath the deluge of tests that greeted their return. No longer was it necessary to refer to the tattered pro- gram card, for periods now flowed smoothly in familiar succession and, like drops in the lifeblood of the student body, the first year corpuscles coursed easily through the arteries of the building and into the numbered cells of learning. The high points of the weekly grind were the eagerly awaited sessions in the small gym where dire threats and raging disputes were born and resolved in thrilling relay games and deadly basket shooting. Finally, no winter day was complete without a spirited snowball fight in the backyard or at the bus stop. Suddenly, it was spring, the season of water pistols and firecrackers. Locker rooms became the scene of many a moist duel and echoing explosion. Everyone gulped down lunch and fled to the back yard where a myriad of rubber balls whistled through the warm air. After mid-April many tired of the yard and frequently disappeared in the direction of Fenway Park. Homeroom feuds flared anew as the competitiv e intramural league flourished in the farthest corner of the Fens Stadium. The tidal wave of misdemeanor marks failed to dampen spring spirits, but did cultivate ingenious alibis. Who could study for final exams in early summer weather? So we discovered how much of the year’s material we had forgotten. Then on June 27, the muffled bang of locker doors and echoing footsteps in the corri- dors were heard for the last time that year. The pro- motion blank said that we had made it. Memory easily mingles the events of other years but those of Class VI stand apart. For the first time we were on our own, at the bottom rung of a long ladder. Suddenly we had to decide our success or failure. Many of us will come to regard that year as the first fork in the road of life.