Bromfield High School - Beacon Yearbook (Harvard, MA)

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.4 ,E w-qi ...MFI . .. il, I- Brom? i el.dc B esaicpn Elizabeth L. Maloney ........ ........... A n Old Fashioned Walk Norman H. Marr ............ ......... R ed Roses for a Blue Lady Marilyn J. Murphy ...... ........................... D reamer's Holiday Eleanor A. Sawyer ..... ........ D ear Hearts and Gentle People Joseph B. Shaw ....... .................................. D on't Cry, Joe Hugo L. Stapel ............. .................................................. J ust Slippin' Around Richard M. Stapel ..........,........................................... Just One More Chance WE WONDER WHY Jennifer giggles incessantly. Dicky S. doesn't start growing. Mary likes science class. George likes lunch period. Jack is so popular with the girls. Billy F. makes eyes at the girls. Marilyn is so reserved. Elliott is such a good mathematician. Eleanor is quiet in business training class. Joe sits near Jennifer in science class. Billy B. still holds his Vermont accent. Dorothy loses her tongue in history class. Norman likes to watch television. Betty's liking for dances has diminished. Dicky H. doesn't stop growing. Beverly transferred from Ayer to Bromfield. Hugo insists on having his own way. FRESHMAN LOCALS After a discussion about intuition in science class: J. Culliton to Mr. Driscoll: I was once in a bicycle accident while at a party, and at the very moment it happened, my mother seemed to sense it at home. Dick Hall: After having seen Jenny ride a bicycle, I can understand why her mother would worry anyway. FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH There are many superstitious people. Are you one of them? Do you believe that going under a ladder instead of around it means that you will have bad luck, or, when a black cat crosses your path, that you will have bad luck in the future? I don't because the unlucky day for so many, Fri- day the 13th, was my lucky day. Two years ago on Friday the 13th, I ran around the corner of the house to get my bicycle. As I was in a hurry, I went under a ladder which the painters were using when painting our house. 1 said to myself, Boy, this is going to be my lucky day! In an hour I had forgotten all about going under the ladder. I decided that I should go swimming down in Bare Hill Pond to cool off because the day was so hot. I ran up stairs to get my bathing suit and a towel. Then I went tearing out of the yard on my bicycle. I did not have any money so I went right by the Soda Shop without my favorite lemon and lime. - Pcfqe Forty-live

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iigggr-om?i-eLcI. BG-Q.-.CO11 FBESIIMEN William F. Beauvais Beverly L. Betts ................ Elliott H. Blackwell Dorothy L. Cregar .......... Jennifer H. Culliton William J. Fox ........ Mary E. Greenwood Richard A. Hall .......... George O. Lennihan FRESHMAN ROLL CALL Feels Bashful Beverly Lacks Buffoonery Happy Boy Docile Little Creature .............Jolly, Happy, Capable ........Witty, Jovial, Forthright .........Mary Enjoys Goodness .............Really A. Humorist ...........Genial, Original, Lively John R. Linehan ..... ....................... J olly, Reliable Lad Elizabeth L. Maloney ........ ,....... E lizabeth's Likeable, Musical Norman H. Marr ............... ,........... N orman Has Magnetism Marilyn J. Murphy ........ .............. M arilyn's Just Merry Eleanor A. Sawyer ...... ................... E arnest And Sincere Joseph B. Shaw ........ ......... J udiciously Breaks Silence Hugo L. Stapel ............ ........ H appy-go-Lucky Student Richard M. Stapel ...... ....................................... R ichard Masters Studies William F. Beauvais Beverly L. Betts .... Elliott H. Blackwell Dorothy L. Cregar .. Jennifer H. Culliton William J. Fox ......... Mary E. Greenwood Richard A. Hall ...... George O. Lennihan John R. Linehan ...... THEME SONGS .........All Er Nothin' Tired ..............Just For Fun ....Maybe It's Because Music, Music Casanova .........When Irish Eyes Are Smiling Page Forty-four ................Humoresque .................................Homework ....They All Love Jack

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E UErnm?iel.d l3ea.co11!:! Z On the way down to the pond, I saw a green object in the road. I thought it was a leaf, but when I got to it, I found a ten dollar bill. I turned my bicycle around and headed for the Soda Shop. I said to myself, I knew this was my lucky day. Half way to the Soda Shop I saw a black cat go across the road in front of me. 1 did not think a thing about it. When I got to the Soda Shop, there was a man selling chances on a new Ford. The chances were a dollar a piece, so I bought nine chances and used the other dollar on a lemon and lime. About two weeks later, I received notice that I had won the new Ford. I also got my license to drive, the next day. So Friday the 13th was my lucky day! William Beauvais '53 FISHING PROPAGANDA Ah, yes, fishing season! It is the time of year when boastful men plan to rise at 3 A. M. and catch the biggest fish in history. They leave their houses at 8:30 only to return in half an hour soaking wet and ready to be wrung out. Now there are several types of fishermen. First, there is the man who prides himself on his enduring patience. He will sit by a brook from five to ten hours at a time with his back against a board until he catches a fairly good-sized fish. As he rises to leave, his gaze falls on the board against which he had been leaning. It bears the sign, No Fishing - S500 fine. He immediately loses all self control, hurls the fish back accompanied by several appropriate remarks which I find unfit for publication. Next we find the restless fisherman who is constantly skipping lightly from rock to rock. Occasionally, as fate would have it, the light skip becomes a SPLASH as he misjudges the distance and comes up midst flailing arms and flying spray muttering oaths that differ not in the slightest degree from the patient fisherman's speech. There are those who must spend time fly-casting. Down near a trout stream one may see men dangling from trees like so many monkeys as they try to rescue their five dollar line from the grasp of a tree. Closer to the water your attention might well be arrested by various noises. You hear the low whistle of the fishing rod as it knifes through the air mingled with the whirr of the reels as they let out or take in line. The monotony of these sounds seems endless until your sensitive ear picks up the first peaceful strains of a high pitched scream. This lessens octave by octave until it results in irregular groans as an unlucky fisherman finally succeeds in plucking his fish hook from its all too painful perch in the sensitive end of his body. Once again I am forced to omit any quotations I had thought of making. These are only minor incidents in the hazardous life of the sport -- fisherman. But still the staunch fishermen brave man-eating flies, wet feet, tangled lines, and soggy lunches for a little bit of sport. Maybe I'm not a good sport as far as fishing is concerned, but none of this for me. Whenever I feel the need of a mouthful of fish, I sink down into an easy chair, and like the gallant soul I am, draw out my trusty can opener and proceed to liberate at pack of already dead sardines. Richard Hall '53 Page Forty-six