Burlington High School - Arrowhead Yearbook (Burlington, MA)

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Class Prophecy You can’t make a mountain out of a mole hill. After Alaska and Hawaii united with this great union to make fifty states, insignificant Burlington, small but powerful, decided to confuse the whole affair by becoming state No. 51. We, J. Seminatore and F, Galipeau, being the right arm and left brain lobe to the newly elected president J. Matto, were sent forth to investigate this situation. As we boarded our plane the stewardess introduced us to none other than F. Dickey, the man who was to navigate our ship. An hour and a half later we arrived safely at the Burlington Airport, which was donated to Burling- ton by E. McKinnon, who at last had made her first million. We grabbed a taxi which took us to a magnificent hotel and who should be the proprietor of this great edifice, but O. Sheerin. Mr. Sheerin called the bellhop, whom we recognized, under his large hat as J. Olson, still taking orders. He showed us to our rooms, saw that we were comfortable, and left. The next morning while eating breakfast and checking a small book, called ‘Qualifications for Statehood’’ between bites, we saw quite a few regulations listed. The first one was to inspect an orphanage, so we started off. W:: reached the orphanage, plowed our way through a mass of wrangling children and proceeded to ring the door bell. The door was answered by Sister Superior, G. Pederson, followed by her assistant B. Johnson. We checked to find every thing in order, and then departed for the reformatory. Upon entering the yard in a dismal dust storm, we shifted our eyes to the Sth floor window where a mop was being vigorously propelled by N. Brogna. A guard led us to the office of the warden, a dignitary so obscured by cigar smoke that he could barely be recognized as G. Kozachuck. After a little security talk he handed us the keys to proceed at will. As we walked down the dark corridor we heard shrill screams coming from the end of the hall. Upon looking into the matter further we observed to our amazement P. LeFebvre cracking his whip over the back of J. Burrell, because she had not done her days work adequately. After pushing lifeless Janet aside, we continued our journey down the hall when suddenly our ears were assailed with evidence of an amazing vocabulary. The question seemed to revolve around some uneaten beans. Only P. Gentile could be too much in love to associate with lowly, unromantic beans and only P. Matto would bother to fight over the fact. They were put there in a vain attempt to cure them of just these habits which had permeated their lives. An insane laughter interrupted the disagreement and we turned around to stare into the face of E. Howard, better known as “The Claw,” getting his board and room free, for maliciously eliminating the poor unfortunate hog caller at the Burlington stock yards, S. MacKenzie, because he couldn't stand her constant shrilling cries any longer. After evaluating the reformatory we headed toward the world’s finest gym. As we entered, we were handed a large turkish towel by none other than E. Costello. We approached the sparring ring and found Irish Bob Murphy taking a round out of former heavy weight Rocky Marciano with his trainer vigorously coaching him from one corner of the ring. We looked more closely and decided to have a few words with manager, J. Surette. He told us he was doing this type of work to take up spare time, but he got a steady income from the boys at the R. S. C. Union (Retired Safe Crackers). Over in