Central High School - Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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AIIVISIJHY IIUMMITTEE ADOLPH S. CAPLAN, Sponsor Francis Butterworth Charles Bareuther Damon P Vickers Thaddeus Gorecki Albert May

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HISTORY OF THE ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-THIRD, CLASS By Samuel Dubin Verdant Freshmen: A great, massive structure it was, weathered and aged, cold and foreboding. No reception committee, no band blaring sweet notes of welcome. We entered: entered into four years of hard work, long hours of study: four years rich in friendship and experience. That door we opened signified the beginning of a new life, a new era in our short existence. Never shall we forget those short but eventful years. They shall ever be cherished and have an everlasting nook in our hearts. We entered as boys with dreams, and left as men: ready to face the realities of life. We entered as freshmen-a very peculiar class of fellows upon which we were later to look down upon with disdain. We're lost in that broad expanse of corridors and multitude of class rooms. Can't understand why were made an object of ridicule by snooty upper- classmen as we earnestly consult our rosters and clutch the Freshman's Bible. We're called by our last names, put on our own, and in general made to feel like men. A teacher is known as Fess or Doc. We roll in the aisles when Hey, Boy! is first heard. We clean the pig sty and wipe our noses when Cap'n Armatage orders it: we squeeze our paraphernalia in anemic lockers, shiver in the gym, admire Venus, frown before Plato, and goosestep before Caesar. There's something about these gloomy corridors and deadly 106. Something that can't be seen or heard, but it's there. They tell us it's tradition, the past roaming an ancient abode. We get our first taste of what the ticket sellers call a traditional game. Central walloped Northeast 22 to 6 that Thanksgiving. Well never miss that game, no sir! Holy smoke! The year practically finished! Soon be a Sophomore. It certainly has been a long initiation. Gay Young Sophomores: Phew! We're out of the muck at last! Life seems so gay. In fact, it's just a bowl of worms, grasshoppers, anthropoids, skeletons, and syntax. Some of us went abroad-riding through Gaul on a Pony. Caesar himself is constantly turning over in his grave. His Garlic Wars are being slaughtered in class: and then he is assassinated by the Dramatic Association. New faces and personalities enter among us. We can now look