Bristol High School - Green and White Yearbook (Bristol, RI)

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 and in the beautifully decorated Colt Auditorium all danced to the music of Al Rosen. The soft lights and charming music made the evening go by too quickly. We started to look forward to our summer vacation which would be our last one from Colt. Before we knew it September was here again and we were back at school, we the mighty seniors. The class held its first meeting soon after the opening date for the election of officers. They were: President, Santa Matrone; Vice President, James Ferreira; Treasurer, Nancy Mascena; and I, Edith Anderton, Secretary. Elected to the executive committee were: Mary Ann Marabello, Marklyn Trainor, Joseph Vaccaro, John Furtado, and Robert Paiva. In October were received our class rings and made sure that everyone, especially the underclassmen, saw them. The busy days passed quickly and class pictures were the next step on that long ladder leading to graduation. In December, the pupils were chosen for their ports in the class play, Girl Crazy, which was held on February 3rd and 4th. The play was very successful as was the operetta presented, under the patient and capable direction of Mrs. Donovan, on April 14th and 15th. June was upon us all too soon and then it was Class Day, the day the wills, prophesies, and history were read revealing our innermost secrets and ambitions. The banquet was held that night and the food disappeared almost as soon as it was placed on the tables. Then, at last, the big moment arrived — that moment that every student looks forward to, some with regret, others with great rejoicing — Graduation. The members of the senior class were very solemn that night as they sat on the stage and heard the first strains of Alma Mater. They tried to fight back the lumps that rose in their throats. On Friday night the Senior Reception was held. Everyone was dressed in graduation finery. This would be the last time the class would meet as a group. After the dance the members of the class of 1955 separated — each to go his own way. EDITH ANDERTON senior calendar Sept. 13 — Delayed by Hurricane Carol, 97 water-soaked seniors returned for their last joyous (?) year! Sept. 25 — First league football game — Pawtucket Voke. The team is red hot! Oct. 21 — Get out the gold polish, mother! Senior rings have arrived. Nov. 20 — Last league game — Barrington — The team is ice cold! Nov. 23 — Boys in suits?! Must be senior class pictures. Dec. 22 — Christmas doings and Dixieland! Students itchy for dismissal bell. Jan. 3 — Sentenced to six more months of hard labor. Jan. 25 — Burning the midnight oil — EXAMS!!! Feb. 3 — Prospective Audrey Hepburns and Gregory Pecks perform. Feb. 22 — Time off for good (?) behavior. March — ? April — Mortgage the house. Dad; Junior Prom is coming. May — Germ attacks high school students — Spring Fever! June 14 — Last chance for diploma — Final Exams! June 23 — (Two hours before Graduation) Say have you learned the words to the 'Alma Mater' yet? June 24 — Seniors rise in the cold dawn for Graduation pictures. Several deep sighs of relief issued from faculty. 27

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First row, left to right: S. Motrone, J. Ferreira, N. Mascena, E. Anderton Second row, left to right: Miss Bullock, M. Trainor, J. Furtado, R. Poiva, J. Vaccaro, M. A. MorobeHo senior class officers President Vice President Secretary Treasurer Santa Motrone James Ferreira Edith Anderton Nancy Mascena EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE John Furtado — Robert Paiva Joseph Vaccaro Marklyn Trainor — Mary Ann Marabello Advisor Miss E. Doris Bullock class history It is June, 1980, the year that Bristol is celebrating its three hundredth anniversary and at which time the Class of 1955 is holding its twenty-fifth reunion. While sitting on the train, I kept glancing nervously at my watch, hoping that I wouldn't be late. I closed my eyes for a few minutes, and then heard the conductor call out, Bristol, Rhode Island; last stop; all out! With a start I opened my eyes and saw a modern railroad station in a very familiar location — the foot of Franklin Street. I hurried up to Hope Street and then to my Alma Mater. Several others were trying to gain access to the building at the same time as I. Could these distinguished businessmen and matronly women that were crowding the entrance be the same shy and awkward sophomores of only twenty-five years ago? How the memories crowded through my mind as I shook hands with my classmates. Then I heard someone call out my name and ask if I would read the class history that I had written. As I glanced at the paper the words before me brought back many happy moments. It was September again and time to get back to the old grind, but this year there was much excitement and anticipation about it. Yes, today would be our first day in the Bristol Senior High School. We loitered near the entrance and then found our home rooms, and were directed to the Auditorium where we heard our principal, Mr. Burke, explain rules and regulations that were to be followed. Our officers elected for the year were: President, Charles Ouellette; Vice President, Santa Motrone; Secretary, Theresa Mello; Treasurer, Anthony DuPont. The following were members of the executive committee: Marguerite Rebello, Madeline Rose, Nancy Mascena, and Dorothy Cavallaro. We settled down to our work and then in January the nervous tension of examinations began again. The dreaded word was on every tongue and in every mind — midyears. After the ordeal, days passed quickly and May finally arrived. Then it was time for the Sophomore Hop, a dance sponsored by the Sophomore Class. The next month came, bringing with it finals and summer vacation. September came again all too soon and we returned to school to start the second year of the best years of our lives. The officers elected to represent our class were: President, James Ferreira; Vice President, John Furtado; Secretary, Mary Buckley; Treasurer, Nancy Mascena. Members of the executive committee were: Jerome Simmons, Dorothy Cavallaro, Edward Cunard, Santa Matrone, Marguerite Rebello, and Anthony DuPont. We began our regular activities, attending football and basketball games, dances and parties until March. Then everyone began talking about whom they were going with, what they wre wearing, etc. Yes, to the Junior Prom. The dance was held April 30 26

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class prophecy-college preparatory class The conductor tapped me gently on the shoulder. Excuse me. Miss, but would you like to read a copy of the Bristol 'Phoenix' while you wait ior the train to start? I thanked him, and began scanning the headlines: Bristol Celebrates its Three Hundredth Year — Many Celebrities Present for Events. Why of course, I thought to myself, it's 1980 — twenty-five years have flown by since our graduation from Colt. I heard a shout of All aboard and glanced out of the window. There was on attractive blonde woman and, I supposed, her teen-age daughter running toward the train. They came into our car and sat opposite me. I couldn't help noticing their very chic attire, for being in the fashion world myself, I was conscious of clothes on other women. How familiar the woman's voice was to mel I kept reading but could not concentrate. All at once the woman asked politely if she could have a page of the Phoenix to read, for she, too, was on her way to the celebration. Why, BARBARA BALZANOI Of coursel Her daughter was the very image of Barbara in her high school days. We talked continuously from Union Station to the depot in Bristol. I explained that I was on a month's vacation and had just returned from France, where I had been working as the Paris editor of Harper's Bazaar. Barbara told me that she had divorced her first husband, who was president of the Texaco Oil Company and was now living quite comfortably with her debutante daughter in a Fifth Avenue penthouse. It was rumored that she hod been seen at the Stork Club with the owner of the Modeling Agency where she had been modeling mother-daughter fashions, but she flatly denied any romantic intentions. Strictly a business venturel she declared. We both were pleased to read in the list of celebrities in the Phoenix, the name of one of our former classmates, VIRGINIA BERNARD. She had become a world-famous scientist, having discovered the fifth dimension. She was doing important research at Columbia University for the government, but had taken a few days off to come to the celebration. According to the personal interview written up in the newspaper, Ginny was giving credit for all her success to Mr. Securo for giving her an excellent preparation while at Colt. We also noted that the governor of Rhode Island would be making a speech this afternoon. Barbara and I were really looking forward to this, for his Honor was none other than the inimitable — EDDIE CORDEIRO. He always was called Big Ed, I recalled. The train pulled into the station and Barbara and I promised to see each other at the reunion being held the following day. I carefully checked the schedule and saw that a regatta was about to get under way. I had always enjoyed sailing immensely, so I taxied to the Yacht Club. A great multitude was gathered on the pier and on the upper terrace of the club. On the end of the pier I noticed a particularly large group that appeared to be watching something other thon the races. Nearing the edge of the crowd I saw what it was that was attracting so much attention. A grey-haired, but comparatively young, handsome man was seated before an easel, painting a scene of sailboats in the harbor. He wore faded dungarees and a plaid shirt, as well as a pair of well-worn sneakers. Like a typical Provincetown artist he was smoking a pipe, and appeared quite unruffled and nonchalant about the many persons crowded around him. Putting the finishing touches on the painting with his brush, he signed his name at the bottom — CHARLES OULLETTE. I guess those many hours in Miss Nerone's art classes did have some marked effect on Charlie. I then focused my attention on the White Caps which were about to start. One led all the rest, and using a small pair of binoculars I could see that the skipper was a distinguished fair-haired yachtsman. I turned to the person beside me and inquired about him. As I had guessed it was RALPH LARSON. He had taken over the Herreshoff Boat Yard and was specializing in White Caps and luxurious, streamlined, and well-equipped quahog boats. By this time the boats were well on their way, so I thought I would go into the Club for some refreshments. There was quite a stir of excitement in the parking lot next to the building. A long, chauffeur-driven, foreign sports car had just pulled up. Several body guards got out and a pretty woman on the arm of her husband, who was wearing a white uniform covered with gold braid and medals. From the whispers about me, I surmised that this was the Count and Countess of Orange in the Netherlands. To my complete amazement and probably even more surprising to the crowd, the Countess rushed toward me and cried out a greeting. It was JUNE HADFIELDI We had so much to talk about but above all I wanted to hear how she had ever become a Countessl June explained that she had met her husband through a young Dutchman who had been visiting the Price family. June and I then wandered onto the terrace for a cooling lemonade, and to talk over old times in our high school days. We were greatly amused by a delegation of kindergarten children playing tag on the lawn. Their teacher, a matronly woman in her forties, was good-naturedly playing ball with one of her charges. In a wild throw the ball bounced under our table and she came to retrieve it. June and I exchanged perplexed looks, then in one breath exclaimed, MARLENEI So it wasl She looked up in surprise, and at our invitation joined us for a cool drink. Marlene laughingly described RAWSON'S DELIVERY SERVICE. It seems that every morning she drives a large comfortable truck around town, picking up her children, who then spend the remainder of the day at her nursery school. She also blushingly admitted that ten of her former pupils were her own children. We were curious about some other of our classmates who had remained in Bristol. Marl obligingly told us that KEITH LUTHER and JAMES TERRA, having successfully completed an agricultural course at R. I. U. had become partners in scientific farming. They now were coowners of Colt Farm and both quite happily married to local girls. TOMMY MANCINI had become nationally famous. He was a daredevil unicycle artist and had his own carnival, which 28