Burlington High School - Arrowhead Yearbook (Burlington, MA)

Page 29 text:

I, Arthur Gould, leave my nickname “Steamboat” to Robert Mac- Kenzie. It may give him speed. I, Leo Govoni, leave my ability (?) to argue with the teachers to Ruth Matto. I, Lorraine Govoni, leave my ability to get along with teachers to Bobby Johnson. Maybe it will help the detention situation, Bobby. I, Ethel Jones, leave to Burton Betts, my last pair of bobby sox. Hope they look as well on you as on me, Burt. I, Margaret Keating, leave to Jean Crogan my ability to talk. Keep it up, Gracie. You're doing all right. I, Mary Marinacci, leave my cozy snoozes in classes, to George Char- CLUS: I, Joan McGowan, leave to Bill Wallace, my size 4 shoe. Small wonder, Bill. I, Helen McLaughlin, leave to the next chemistry class a small bot- tlerole WN alae Usenit asevou. sce tit. I, Dorothy Murray, leave my porch to Claire Colley. She already has the swing. I, Caroline Neilsen, leave my place on honors (as vacant as it has always been) to Priscilla Johnson. I, George Perkins, leave to anyone willing to make use of it, my secret formula for sleeping with my eyes open. It comes in handy in dull classes. I, Janice Reed, being of sound mind (?), leave to Lorraine Nelson all the names I have received on my trip through school; namely, Homely, Shorty, Peanut, Sliver, and some that could not get past the censors. Signed and sealed in the presence of responsible witnesses, this 5th day of June, One Thousand Ninteen Hundred and Forty-eight. Marie Chaplin, Helen McLaughlin

Page 28 text:

Class Will We, the Class of 1948, being uncertain about almost every- thing (including the Future), do hereby individually leave our most cherished possessions, attributes, and qualities to those who will find the most use for them. I, Lawrence Azevedo, leave my ability to stay out of school and still pass, to Dorothy Norden. I, Joyce Bayliss, leave my freckles to Beatrice Kendall. Hope they don’t get in the way, Bea! I Barbara Bitzer, leave my ability to get to school early, to Evelyn Miller. It’s a good idea, Evy. It keeps you out of Detention Hall. I, Helen Cabral, leave my curly locks to Randall Hurley. Hope you can manage them, Nick. I, Marie Chaplin, leave to Barbara Pattison my ability to make a whole wardrobe of clothes in Home Economics periods. I hope you do better than I did!! I, Jean Clark, leave my front seat in English class to any Junior who wishes it. (No shoving now!) We, Norman DeMone and Jimmy Rogers, leave to Dick Garibotto and Bill Hurley our ability to sing opera in all the minstrel shows in Burlington. We hope they put it to better use than we did. {, Lila Dupee, leave my ability to drive carefully (?-!) to Margaret Rogers. (Be sure you have your boots on.) I leave the car to Mabel Johnson. It always was a long walk home, wasn’t it, Bi ? I, Eleanor Ekwall, leave my ability to be quiet, to Blanche Mur- ray. Hope it comes in handy, Blanche. !, Donald Ellsworth, hereby leave the Ping-pong championship to Jack Moglia. I, Margaret Ellsworth, leave my ability to make up tall stories when they are needed, to Chuck Rupprecht. Hope you keep out of as much trouble as I have, Chuck. I, Kenneth Foster, do hereby leave to John Maguire my job of wash- ing tables. Keep them clean, John. I, Marion Galinos, leave to Lenny Gustafson my ability to jitterbug. J, Jacqueline Graham, leave my ability to think up excuses for get- ting out of classes, to “Chickey” Meaney. I, Francis Gentile, leave my beautiful wave to Henry Lowther. Keep it set, Kid!! bere

Page 30 text:

Prophecy The prophecy for the Class of “48” is amazingly strange. Phen- omenal ideas and dreams of the future come to those who indulge in the smoking of opium. Being a habitual addict, I am an expert on the wonders of this drug. Last evening as I sat at home inhaling the fumes, a heavy mist closed over my consciousness and trans- ferred it into the subconscious. As the mist began to settle I found myself on a street corner by a newstand. Buying a paper, I found the year to be 1958, and the metropolis, Burlington. In banner headlines on the editorial page I noticed a scathing article against “The Slums of Burlington,” written by that noted crusader against social evil, Lila Dupee, the owner and publisher of Burlington’s most important newspaper. Turning to the comics, I read my favorite strip, “Little Agnes” by that noted cartoonist, Fearless Foster. While looking over the classified gossip section, I noticed a headline. It stated, “Fran- cis Gentile is lecturing this evening at the Burlington University. His subject will be, “The Finer Points of Old English Lettering.’ ” I slipped the paper in my pocket and proceeded down the boule- vard. As I passed a dark alley a low voice accosted me from a deep shadow. “Hey, Bud, gotta dime for a cup of java?” I turned around and came face to face with my old classmate, Georgie Per- kins. His clothes were tattered and torn, and he looked as though he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in a week. He told me that ever since he found he couldn’t marry Betty Grable, he had completely lost his mind. Since I was famished myself, we entered Mary Mar- inacci’s Halfsome. She made her first million working in the Wholesome, and set up a competitive business of her own. While we were waiting for our order, George said he was just about ready to move to Jimmie’s Place. Mr. Rogers was proprietor of the Mo- dernistic Mortician Service. His favorite slogan was, “All our bus- iness 1s on the level.” After gorging ourselves with Mary’s fine Raviolis, we walked up the street to the Opera House. There, Janice Reed and her thir- ty-five male musicians were playing Romanoff’s Fifth Symphony. The show was an excellent one, but being anxious to see the rest of the city, George and I left early and continued up the boulevard. After walking a block and a half, we came upon a theater. The name of the picture was “The Red-Head Walks at Midnight” star- ring Joan McGowan and Don Ellsworth. Of course Don played the part of the Red Head, and Joan played the part of a notorious gang- ster. It was quite a picture. Across from the theater was a beauty salon managed by Jackie Graham and Marie Chaplin. They said it got quite boring waiting on women all day so they built their es- tablishment of glass, enabling them to see the men walking by. Next door to the salon was a women’s haberdashery where Barbara Bitzer and Helen Cabral created the latest styles in women’s hats. [ 26 ]