Classical High School - Classic Myths Yearbook (Worcester, MA)

Page 17 text:

PRESlDENT'S ADDRESS As President of the graduating class, it is my honor and privilege to welcome you, our friends, teachers, and parents to the last meeting of the class of l959. Three years ago we met for the first time, two hundred and forty-nine of us, each a little scared, a little lonely, and very much bewildered. The bright class- rooms and the well-equipped cafeteria of Chandler, the fine library at Grafton, the gymnasium at Providence, and the beauti- ful auditorium at Burncoat had all been left behind us. Gone too were our posi- tions of leadership in iunior high school. But three years of study, of fun, and of companionship have welded us together. We are now a part of Classical. Its walls may crumble, its dim lights shadow the rooms, but its spirit will always live in us. To the guidance, the encouragement, and the patience of our parents and of the THOMAS COGHLIN faculty, we owe our success both as a class and as individuals. Mr. Couming, in particular, as assistant principal and as principal of Classical High School, has endeared himself to all of us and placed many of us forever in his debt. ln this our last meeting at Classical we wish to live again some of the memorable events of our life here together. We hope that in sharing them with you we shall demonstrate some of the things Classical has meant to us, the one hundred and seventy-five who survived, the class of 1959.

Page 16 text:

CLASS DAY SPEAKERS AND MARSHALLS HELENA TISDELL JOEL COHEN ALGIMANTIS GARSYS RICHARD KASHNOW DOROTHY HARGROVE GRADUATION SPEAKERS CAROL ANN ZINKUS HELENA TISDELL JOEL COHEN KAREN SUE COTZLN

Page 18 text:

CLASS HISTCRY HELENA A. TISDELL The month was September, the year was l956, we were the people, and we were be- wildered. We were gathered here in the as- sembly hall of Classical High as exiles from a common, cherished homeland, the great and wonderful institution called junior high. ln our foreign-looking clothes-how did we know what to wear to a high school?-we made a pathetic sight, hardly the fine impression which we had hoped to create. With instructions for becoming full-fledged citizens of this land of opportunity, each of us received a large stack of books. Because, perhaps, of our difficulty with the new language- dig, get hep, etc.- some of us got lost during those early weeks. lt did not, however, take long for us to learn enough to recognize an I Am a Senior sign when we saw one. ln November, we became acquainted with the Argus. We wondered whether Classical was becoming iust another country-club school: they published our telephone numbers. How disap- pointed were we to discover that this move was, and l quote, to facilitate the successful com- pletion of home assignments. Oh, well. That same winter brought the Variety Show. Who can forget the antics of Elvis Butler and Bobo. ln that Variety Show, Roberta Hack, straight from the glamorous stages of the Wild West, yodeled her way through a delightful cowboy song. As January drew to a close, we heard of a Junior Prom-some lucky ones at- tended-and we heard Seniors wailing about something like College Boards. Why, we won- dered, were they so upset? What were these boards, anyway? Now we wish that we had never found out. ln February, our half-brothers and sisters joined us in exile as sophomores. Gleefully, to our poor relatives, we sold elevator passes and swimming pool tickets, we were obviously mak- ing great advances in this new land of ours. Certainly we would be well-known the next year, for before June, Sue Brown, Sandy Dorsey, Marie Mortimer, and Fran Munton were chosen to brighten the cheerleaders' squad. Al Garsys was named to play for the varsity basketball team, partly to give the new cheer- leaders something to yell about and partly to add a spot of color to the team. Another little highlight of our sophomore year was Moldy Day, for which Pete Consiglio produced iust about the dirtiest sweatshirt in the school. As we neared the end of our first year of probation, those of us who attended the Senior Play and Prom, Class Day and Graduation wondered whether we should ever be seniors- they had so much fun. When school closed in June, taking stock, we discovered that, with the exception of mass migrations to Commerce at mid-year, we had survived-this far, at least. Fully rested from summer activities, we re- turned in September of l957 to find that three new immigrants had ioined our ranks, Mardi Moran and Dotty Cunningham from Notre Dame and Paula Dupre from Holy Name of Jesus High. To balance the scale, we sentenced Bart Roggensack to further exile in California and the Coghlin twins to Worcester Academy. Tommy, after spending a few days at the Academy, soon proved himself the wiser twin. Al Israel enioyed a brief football career and a longer period as an interesting casualty. If we remember correctly, Dotty Hargrove and Janice Ratte sported black eyes in 1957. And they seemed to be such good friends-at least they agreed to use field hockey practice as their excuse. Since we were members of a class with such varied talents, we needed capable leaders to coordinate our efforts. As officers of our iunior class, we elected Dick Callahan, president, Sue Brown, vice-president, Fran Munton, secretary, and John Lehigh, treasurer. In the Variety Show, Around the World, Phil and Stuart Rosen- berg, 1959's gift to Broadway, were billed as going was getting rough, for Cookie Cohen gave up and moved to Hull. As members