Camden High School - Megunticook Yearbook (Camden, ME)

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22 HMEGUNTICOOKH was scared. Getting a cab and giving directions to a police station, I left my apartment building in great haste. At the police station they turn- ed me out with laughter when I told them this story. It couldn' happen her in our nice little town, they said. Go home and sleep it off. But I couldn't go home, the boys were probably already there. Where could I go? I looked at my watch, it said 5:20. An hour and forty minutes be- fore broadcasting time. I walked ra- pidly down the street, always looking back, forward, and to the sides, al- ways ready to fall on my face to avoid being shot at from a passing car. Where am I? Let's see, about a block and a half from the radio sta- tion. There's a church across the street from there. I could hide in there until seven o'clock. Sure, Joe, get a move on, I said to myself. Go- ing into the church I went down to the front near a side door and knelt down to pray. I never prayed before but in the hour that I was there I guess I made up for that. It was just 6:30 when I heard somebody coming in the front door. I looked backg it was three of the gang, they had found me. I was trapped! But wait, the side door! Making a wild dash for it, I heard a gun roar in the quietness. Something hit me in the arm and knocked me down. I quickly regained my feet, got out the door and down the street with all three of them after me. Knowing this section of town better than they did, I soon lost them. Cautiously making my way back to here, I sneak- ed in, gave my arm a little first aid and got ready to tell you this story. The building was deserted at this hour because everybody was out to supper. When my engineer came in, I slugged him and put him into a closet. No sense in an innocent per- son getting hurt if anything was go- ing to happen. I'm calmer now, think ing clearly and I'm not scared any more. Well, folks, that brings my story up to the minute. I'm in a dim- ly-lit studio with the only other per- son in the building out cold in the closet. I can hear somebody on the stairs. They're coming into the stu- dio. Yes, it's the guys who were chas- ing me. They're coming up the aisle now. They're only about ten feet away. I'm looking down the barrels of three pistols. I can see their fingers getting white while they are applying pressure to the triggers. I guess this is it, folks, this is my last broadcast. Good-by . . . Jim McGrath ,5l A BIG ONE THAT DIDN'T GET AWAY A few years ago, one bright warm afternoon I was digging in my gar- den when I ran across a nice large worm. Thoughts came into my head, Boy, how nice it would be sitting on the bank of my favorite trout stream with my line drifting down the stream, and listening to the birds sing, and feel the cool spring breeze drifting through the woods! I then took the worm, my fishing pole, and a few other items which would make fishing complete, climbed on my bi- cycle and started off for the best trout stream I knew. A little after noon my wish came true, and I found myself sitting on the bank of a sparkling stream. I fished all afternoon and just before time to go home I got a nibble and I pulled him in. He was a whopper- all of two inches. After hunting around for a while I dug up a can large enough to hold my catch. I put him in it and started home. About half way home he seemed to be swell- ing or growing, I didn't know which. Before I reached home, he had grown so large I had to hold him in both hands to keep from dropping him. I immediately called a fish doctor, and he said that this was a salmon with an ingrowing corn and there was no limit to its growth. I then harnessed it up and put it in the river and went to bed happily, not telling anyone about my secret.

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CAMDEN, MAINE 21 N 0 Q or ' v v. WW vm rm, c W X r f 9 g gzqd Lf' Wolf? bf ' hmmm 422 A hm Z a .4 9 A- vi Q Q N x 7 '7 THE END Good evening, mystery lovers of the radio audience. Tonight the story which I am going to tell you is about myself. That seems to be a strange subject, you may think, for on pre- vious broadcasts I have told you only true stories of the criminal world. Friends, this story is absolutely true. Probably tonight is my last night to liveg in fact I am very doubtful of having time to complete my story to you. It all began back in '45 just af- ter the war. Some government con- tracts were being investigated in the shipyard where I happened to be a big-shot. Trouble was spotted and although I admitted knowing what had been going on, I had not profited by it. Nevertheless in court I was con- victed and given a prison sentence of ten years. A federal prison, by the way, isn't a place where everyone you meet is a pure white angel. After being there a short time I had made friends with some pretty hard-boiled char- acters. Among them was the leader of a gang which was bringing opium into the country on a large scale. For convenienceis sake we'll call him Parker. Well, Parker gave me a pretty good that I was innocent, of sales talk course, so the government owed me years of my life. He said about ten that after I got out of stir he could fix me up with a fairly soft job an- nouncing the dope shipments to dif- ferent parts of the gang in code over these broadcasts. It was a chance to get back at the government and the odds were with me that I wouldn't get caught if the rest of the gang did. The pay was good too, one hundred dollars for each tip, there were about seven a month. Everything went smooth for about a year or so-the FBI just wasnft fast enough to catch us. Then it hap- penedg one of our trucks was grabbed with about a quarter million dollars' worth of dope in it. About a week later another shipment was caught. Parker was getting fed up with the whole thing and you can't blame the guy after losing over a half million, just like that. He was getting jumpy and accusing the whole gang of tip- ping of the cops. I was just afraid it would happen and it did-he deduced that other than himself and his right hand man, George, I was the only one that knew the shipping schedules ahead of time. I must be put out of the way. I was at my home getting my script ready for this program when George called and informed me that Parker wanted to see me in his office right away. I said, O. Kg I'll be ready in about twenty minutes. After they hung up, I knew what was coming- the end, and it was coming fast. My only hope was to go to the cops and turn state's witness against them. I

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CAMDEN, MAINE 23 The next morning I went to the river, but when I got there, to my amazement there was no fish. As a matter of fact, there was no river either. I packed my lunch and followed up the mud bottom of what used to be the Megunticook River mile after mile until I finally reached the lake and at the mouth of it was my fish. He had then almost drained the lake dry. He was the size of a city block and I knew something must be done because one fiap of his tail would mean disaster to hundreds of cot- tages around the lake. I ran to the nearest telephone and called an army base and told them to bring their heaviest weapons to kill a fish. They thought it was crazy but they obeyed me. Soon the thunder of cannons filled the air, and fish scales lay for miles around. After two hours of gun fire my fish lay dead. Then, after thinking for a few minutes I called a contractor and had him with a crew of one hundred men build a canning factory beside the bulk. It employed several hundred men, who worked months before the fish was finally used up. I became a multimillionaire, and everyone in the world has been eating Stearns' Fish Cakes ever since. Several years passed before I de- cided to go fishing again. While driv- ing along an old country road in my new Ford I came to a bridge. It didn't look very safe, but I tried to cross it and SPLASH! I woke up, found myself sprawled out in the middle of the stream, soaking wet, and all I had left was a memory of a dream. Frank Stearns '51 HOW TO WORM OUT OF BEING MARKED LATE fand go fishing at the same timej It was a fine day for going to school and I got up bright and early to get ready. I finished my breakfast and went out and spaded up some of my garden so I could plant when I got home. I couldn't help it if a pesky worm crawled into the can I was tak- ing to school for biology class. So I picked up my can and went into the house to get my books. Well, you couldn't guess what hap- pened! It seems my little brother was playing with my fishing rod and had tangled the line all up with my books. If I had taken time to untangle them, I surely would have been late for school, so I decided to bring it all along with me. Well, as you know, on my way to school there is a calm, peaceful little trout stream and while I was passing by, what do you think happened! That darn worm crawled right onto my fish hook and jumped into the stream! Why, you couldn't imagine my as- tonishment! I had just begun to reel in that impetuous worm when I heard him groan and saw that a big speckled trout had taken a bite out of him and was hooked. I fought for hours trying to save the poor worm, but it was no use. By the time I had brought the fish in, the worm was completely eaten. After burial and funeral cere- monies for that poor defenseless worm, I hurried to school and that, Mr. Wood, is why I am late! David Crockett '51 JUNIOR JITTERS Gosh, what a sensation! Back stage just fifteen minutes before the curtain goes up! The orchestra is playing-they have to! We don't want the fast- gathering audience to hear the tattoo of our knees knocking together. Miss Oliver is everywhere at once, smearing eye goo on this person and slapping a mustache on someone else. Someone's slip is hanging and she screams for help. A run in a stocking is all that is necessary to cause female hysterics. A three-minute warning is called and the person next to me looks about ready to faint. I'm not feeling too well myself!