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Page 29 text:
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her? But much to her dismay, who should come swimming out to rescue her—none other than good old Smitty! After we had finished playing our strenuous games of Ring-a-Round-a-Rosie, Drop the Handkerchief, and Farmer in the Dell, we decided to have a good old water fight. The bus driver did not appreciate it, however, when we returned, soaking wet, to his nice dry bus. Our last three years had gone by so rapidly, it was difficult to believe that we were at last seniors. Our officers for our last year were Carol Myers as president; Rosalie Finn, as vice-president; Patty Miller as sec- retary; and John Reitano as treasurer. We held our light bulb sale and magazine campaign almost at the same time to earn enough money for our “Toot”. At the Hallo- ween dance we put on a floor show and our seniors showed their many hidden talents. Mike Carney was especially good as the hula narrator. Our senior girls made outstanding football players, and did you ever see such can-can dancers? We had our graduation pictures taken early and we waited patiently to get the first glimpses of them. Such groans were heard when we realized they looked exactly like us. It wasn’t long before we were busy working on the Toot. Kathryn Capparelli was (Continued on page 55 SOPHISTICATED SENIORS page twenty-seven
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Page 28 text:
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girls tried to sneak in the Women’s Bath House without paying for a locker. Their minds were quickly changed when a big, husky lifeguard chased them out. When class day rolled around, it didn’t seem possible that we were juniors, but we were. In our junior year we elected Gilbert Tornator'e as president; Judy Smith as vice- president; Janice Kneeskern as secretary; and Danny Lewis as treasurer. We ordered our class rings shortly after we came back to school and we waited patiently for that day to come when we could strut through the halls, holding our hands high. Our biggest social event of the year was our Junior Prom which was held on Novem- ber 20. It was quite a job persuading our teachers that our services were needed more in the gym than in the classrooms. Our chairman Kathryn Capparelli and co-chair- man Charles Hood did a great job of making the dance a success. We held our light bulb sale as usual, but thinking we were rich now, we didn’t work so hard at it. In June we held our Junior-Senior picnic at Green Lake. It was our turn to treat the seniors and we made sure everyone had enough to eat. Wasn’t it Sandra Grago at the picnic who tried to drown herself so that the handsome lifeguard could come and save JOLLY JIJNIOKJS page twenty-six
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Page 30 text:
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CLASS PROPHECY Hello, folks! Here we are again, about to delve into the past of another one of our friends. As our guest tonight, we have none other than the inventor of that ultramodern time machine, Sir Ty Mout. As a special treat, he is going to let us review his life by taking us back in his machine. We had planned to go back to 1955, but most of his friends were in high school then, so we’ll stop at 1970 instead. All set? Sir Ty Mout, This-is-your-life! Here we are! Here’s Ty, but his son’s across his knees. We find that the boy has thrown paint at his teacher, Miss Theila Bowman. But he’s only in 3rd grade—when he’s of an age for Annapolis, I’ll bet Miss Pat Miller, a teacher there, can make him behave. And if he goes to Notre Dame, he’ll receive the necessary discipline from Dean Rosalie Finocchiaro. Here we go to another scene in Ty’s life—on a visit to our old friend Liberace. Let’s peep in the window before we ring the bell. Oh, look, he’s getting his aged fingers massaged by our own Chuck Sgroi, the well- known masseur. And there’s Liberace’s dental hygienist, Mrs. L. Picciano, once Bobbi Farfaglia. She’s getting ready to brighten up that toothy smile of his. Why, there’s Ty’s wife, the former Mary Ellen Schepp. She’s having quite a time with their nine boys and two gilds. It’s really something to be able to raise a champion baseball team, plus two coaches. With a family that size, I’ll wager that Ty has many times wished he had as much money as our millionaire friends, such as Russ Boston, Pat LaVancher, and Mrs. Mayda Munney, formerly Barb Peron. Barb didn’t waste time making her million—she just married a tall millionaire. Even with a big family, Ty’s worries are almost nothing compared to those of Archie Argentine. He’s living in India now, with his happy harem. Think how much it must cost him to send all his wives by plane to N. Y. C. to the world-famed Be-Bop Beauty Box. Joan Bayliss and Mary Ann Dilettoso, co-owners of the beauty shop, can really make them look beautiful, too. At the Be-Bop Beauty Box now is Ty’s wife, getting her hair done by their head beautician, Miss Shirley Hepler. She’s getting ready for a wedding coming soon. Barbara Kincaid's going to become HIS. Say, where does that door lead? Oh, yes! Kenny Barres’ 5th Avenue Pool Hall. Whom do we find there but our friends Mike Carney, Louis DeBalso and Fred LaVancher, all taking it easy after a hard day’s work. Fred’s now a beer sampler at a brewery, Mike’s an air wick adjuster in a sardine factory, and Louis has a pleasant job as flower-stretcher in Dick’s (Fults) Flower Shop. We’re going out tonight, to the grand re-opening of the Avon Theater, now under the new management of Janice Kneeskern. Lots of Ty’s neighbors are at the Avon tonight. There are Mr. and Mrs. Murray Kilts and their four boys, and Mrs. Sweet and her five little “honeys”. Mrs. Kilts used to be Gloria Patterelli, and Sara Narehood married her honey, Mr. Sweet. Home again with Ty, where Jean Wollaber, a secretary, who in her spare time is the baby-sitter, tells us that one of Ty’s sons, Darrell, is sick. To the telephone we go, to tell the operator, Nancy Newcomb, to call Dr. Carol Myers, family doctor. Dan-ell has to go to the hospital, so shall we pay him a visit? The nurses, including hospital supervisor Kathryn Capparelli, head nurse Judy Galton, and Darrell’s special nurse, Carol Heffron, all give him good care. Ty’s been at the hospital all night, and is getting home now, just as Dick Stokes is delivering Grade A-l, pre-homogenized milk from his dairy. He gets his milk, the very best, from David Niles’ “Dear Dairy Farm”. No sleep last night and now Ty must (Continued on page 55) page twenty-eight
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