Bourne High School - Canal Currents Yearbook (Bourne, MA)

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Canal Currents, Bourne High School The Letter In the North African desert the temperature sometimes climbs as high as 120°. It gets so hot that one can almost see and taste the heat. The Lieutenant wiped the perspiration from his forehead and resumed his writing. Suddenly an alert signal was given and the paper was hastily stuffed into his pocket as he started for his post. The paper said . . . Dear Butch, It’s awfully hot here. How are Mom and Dad and Sis? What I wouldn’t do for one of those cokes we used to get. Look, Kid, I want to tell you something. It’s one of those things you can’t say — you just have to write it. You’ll be getting your draft papers very soon. I want you to know what will happen to you that night. You’ll come home and find a short letter on the hall table saying you have been inducted. You’ll feel like choking and feel all swelled up inside. You will struggle through supper and then go to your room. You become afraid and won’t be able to stand it; so first you’ll grab your coat and go out the back door. The hill will be your first stop. It was always your refuge. Then you’ll begin remembering things. Just snatches of them but dear to you. The time your dog was killed — when you were caught smoking behind the garage — Spencer Tracy in Captains Courageous” — The Big Apple” — your first pair of long pants The coach’s voice saying. Okay, you in 24;” your first big game, you were in! — Elmer’s Tune” — Harry ' James, and Superman — December 7 The gardenia you sent her lying against her dark hair — the day you got your driver’s license You’ll remember until it hurts way down deep; then the darkened room will be your refuge. You’ll fling yourself down and start sobbing. Don’t be embarrassed; you have a right to do that. A right, because after all, hasn’t a boy the right to cry for all these things he leaves behind — the cokes and dates and hours in the locker room and exams never passed? The minute you stop crying you’ll become a man. Then you will understand why we have to fight — fight for our country and these things so that our sons may grow up as we did except that they’ll have a few more years to play baseball on that corner lot. I hope I haven’t sounded soft; we here are having a ” The hand that held the blood-stained letter clenched it until it was a crumpled wad, and a curlv black head sank down upon it. Through the head, like a merry-go-rcund swirled these words: These were found in his possession at the time of his death . . . these were . . . Then the head lifted, proudly and fearlessly. Its eyes rested on an envelope on the hall table. Natalie Pope, ’45 Page P XV enty -three

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Canal Currents, Bourne High School or as the teen-agers would say, super!!” It couldn’t happen again in cen- turies; it probably would never happen again. The Junior Class, class of 1945, was experiencing a rare event. And this is what it was: every Junior was promoted into the twelfth grade with an A in every single subject. Imagine it!! An A in every subject! ! Marilyn Wing, ’45 An Afternoon In Bourne- 1954 It is one o’clock and after the closing bell sounds in the school, every- ofie rides to the front door on an escalator. From there all walk to the large hangar behind the school, each student getting into his own heli- copter. Soon a whining sound is heard and the sun is literally blacked- out” with about two hundred helicopters bearing the same number of Bourne High students on their way home — with no homeivork! Not far from the school, the planes land, this time in front of At- wood’s new Recreation Block.” This includes an automatic bar — strictly soft drinks, of course (at one cent a glass), where all one has to do is press a button for the drink he desires, and it slides down the bar, stopping directly in front of him; a streamlined roller-skating rink, where one rides through a door on an escalator, puts his feet on a stool, and his skates are automatically zipped on; a new bowling alley, where the pins are auto- matically set up and each person’s score is marked on a bulletin board at the end of each individual’s alley; a large dance hall, where, if preferred, the roof may be slid away to allow for an open-air hall — any sort of game may be played here and whenever a mark appears on the floor, it is immediately rubbed out by some invisible means; a moving picture theatre, where once a week a well-known actor appears in person! These are just samples of some of the recreational facilities set up for teen-agers all over the country, where one may spend his afternoon in peace, with no homework to worry about, wood to chop (since all houses now-a-days are automatically heated with electricity! ) , etc. When the youngsters feel like going home for supper, they hop into their helicopters and in a few minutes, land on their own flat house-tops. Taking an elevator, which includes a machine in which one needs only to place his hands and before reaching the dining room one’s hands are com- pletely washed and dried, one is taken to the dining room with no time wasted. SuDper is a delicious meal with coca-cola instead of milk and a big dish of any flavor ice cream desirable for desert. Of course the dishes automatically slide into an electric dishwasher when supper is finished, where they are washed and dried and placed in their own respective places in less than five minutes! Did I hear someone say the preceding actions are impossible — even in 1954. Well, this is supposed to be wholly imaginative, isn’t it. Barbara Harrison, ’45 Tiventy-two

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Canal Currents, Bourne High School In The Doghouse One day Mr. Walter Kins came home with a long, long face. He dragged his feet one after the other up the long winding path to his palatial abode. Beth, his wife, and his little spoiled brat of u son, Pete, were waiting anxiously at the window. Run, run, Petie dear. Run like mad and get Papa’s slippers and new red bathrobe that you spilled indelible ink all over ’cause you can tell he’s awfully tired and worried tonight.” Okay, Maw, but 1 forgot to tell you that I stuck chewing gum all over Papa’s slippers.” It didn’t take long for Pete to arrange Pop’s things and by the time Walter opened the door, all was in harmony, at least temporarily. Walter gave Beth a misplaced wet smack on the nose and for the only time in five years, six months, and thirteen days he totally ignored little Petie, the poor dear. Well, Beth, I’ve sad news indeed, today. My draft board has finally caught up with me. You remember I tried claiming that I had heart trouble, but they say I can’t have heart trouble because I haven’t even got a heart.” Poor Beth! No wonder she could never tell if he really loved her or not. Hey, Pop! Pay some attention to me,” hollered Petie. Not now. Shut up for once, you model child.” Well, dear, to rush up matters a bit, I must leave tomorrow morning at six o’clock.” Oh, Walter, you can’t! I won’t let you go. How can Petie and I ever find enough to eat without you?” Oh, I have provided for you. There are plenty of bones buried in the garden. I w ' on’t need them in the W.A.G.S.” Catherine Handy, ’44 If It Were Only Real! It was a warm, sunny day. My mother asked me to go down to the grocery store to get something for supper. I was rather reluctant to go as I hadn’t finished an article on Walter Pidgeon that I was reading. However I went. ( What else could I do! ) It was a w’onderful day for walking so I decided to give my bike a rest. The store was two miles away but I had all afternoon so I could take my time. I sauntered along, and about half a mile from home I saw a group of men working on the road. They were all loudly singing. I had never heard such a wonderful medley of men’s voices before. As I came nearer to them, I stopped and stared open mouthed. For I recognized among them the voices of Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Nelson Eddy, Dick Haymes, and John Charles Thomas. I thought I was seeing things, but no, they all introduced them- selves and sure enough, that’s who they were. ( I kept staring at Frankie! ) They asked me what I’d like to have them sing. By this time I had regained Pa e Twenty- four