College High School - La Campanilla Yearbook (Upper Montclair, NJ)

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Reminiscence There was a hushed silenced in the darkened room. The logs were crackling briskly in the fireplace. Twenty-six arm-chairs were gathered around the open hearth, and small ringlets of smoke curled slowly up to the ceiling from the pipes of the twelve old men assembled there. Also present were fourteen spry old girls dressed in their latest glass fabric ensemble. It was the year 1996 and the Montclair College High School Class of 1946 was holding its first complete reunion since graduation. They were discussing the many gay times they had had together at dear old Alma Mater. An old gentleman puffing intermittently at his trusty corncob was speaking. Remem- ber the way those mighty eighth graders whipped up thoroughly into submission by an initiation? We were made to realize that as seventh graders we were the lowest form of animal life that existed. Then there was that book of original poetry we published with the aid of Mrs. Winchester and our old English professor, Dr. Nickerson. We visited quite a few museums back in those days, too. I think they called one of them the Museum of Natural History and another was called the Museum of Science and Industry. Of course, they ' re slightly out-of-date now. Up spoke a frisky old girl who was sitting next to him. How about that eventful year we had as eighth graders? An unfortunate accident ended the tradition of initiations at College High, but nevertheless we succeeded in humbling the wee seventh graders. We produced a mock trial, which we wrote, directed, and acted in ourselves, aided by Mr. Hamilton. About that time, said another alumnus, we joined the Junior Literary Guild, and at the end of the year we donated the books to the high school library. This also was the year in which the United States became involved in that second World War. We lost several of our teachers to the armed forces, and the coming of the war sobered us a bit. Why, I remember our ninth year as if it were yesterday, said an impressive- looking, white-haired old man. I guess we felt pretty high and mighty that fall when we entered as freshmen in high school. We were now approaching the realm of upper class- men. The boys began to notice the girls and vice versa. In our Western Culture class we held a South American dinner, which we cooked and digested (?) ourselves. We also had an exhibit of various projects we had made in connection with our South American studies.

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Well Never Forget the Time Three seniors ran the Caldwell branch of the Erie Railroad while the rest of us visited Mr. Bohn. We went to Deer Lake on the Junior-Senior picnic, and stayed overtime. The girls discovered the memory book in the Crier Office. Lawson came to school with his white mice. The boys made and modeled crazy hats at Barbara ' s New Year ' s Eve party. We played Capture-the-Flag the morning-after-the-night-before. Dave and Elliot had the water fight in Chem Lab. Miss Ransom got hit on the head with a snowball, accidentally on purpose. Mr. Sott told us about goals with appropriate gestures. Artie took over the French class with disastrous results. Some pink icing mysteriously got stuck on the stair railing. We gave the Varga calendar to Mr. Conrad. Dr. Glenn forgot to show up for our evening astronomy lesson, but nobody cared any- way. (Because it was the night of the Aurora Borealis.) Miss Ransom poured mercury all over the floor. There was maple syrup in, around, and below the Crier office. A chair fell through the Crier office window. Dave gallantly crawled down the sewer to rescue Candy ' s math book. Canfield and Dave discovered they could sing. Barbara met her friend on the bus. Carla was the rage. Mrs. Ramsden rode her striped bicycle on a held trip to Little Falls. Martin ' s boomerang nearly missed a school window. Miss Ransom told us she was engaged to Pfc. Claghorn and invited us all to her wed- ding in New Hampshire. Senator Sloan had a water fight with a ninth grade mother. Dr. Wittmer told us about his Cousin Helen. (Or should we say times?) We had those loyalty feuds about hometowns. Some of the cheerleaders kissed the basketball team after an exciting victory over Im- maculate. Canfield tried on Andy ' s skirt for size.

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Suddenly, a little old lady, who had been knitting quietly, put down her needles. Why, I remember how as tenth graders in Mr. Conrad ' s class, we founded the school ' s Service Honor Roll. We erected a plaque in the office and dedicated a service flag in the assembly. Oh, and how I remember that first dance we gave; we called it the Trysting- Hour. That was a great social success. We also kept abreast of the great number of war books being published at that time, and reported on many of them. We followed the progress of a book Mr. Conrad was editing, and from this we got first hand knowl- edge of how a book is published. Another dignified old man got up from his chair and stood before the fireplace. I ' ll never forget our junior year. Why, I believe that it was one of our most profitable ones at C.H.S. We started it off by selling hot dogs and ' cokes ' at the football games. Then we gave, for the first time in the sc hool ' s history, a juke-box affair, otherwise known as a poverty dance. We took over management of the Crier and kept up the fine traditions of former staffs. In our English class we read several Shakespearean plays and finished this exercise by journeying to New York with Dr. Krauss to see Margaret Webster ' s production of The Tempest. With the aid of Dr. Krauss and Dr. Fulcomer, we presented in the assembly a one-act farce entitled The Lost Elevator. We finished up the year by giving the departing seniors an all-day picnic at Deer Lake, accompanied by Mr. Sey- bold, Mr. and Mrs. Sloan, and Mrs. Cooper. A tall, lanky old gentleman, with a receding hairline, who had been president of the class during their senior year, arose slowly. As the senior class president, let me say a few words concerning our last and most fruitful year at good old College High School. Entering the halls of C.H.S. for the sixth and last year, we were determined to make the best of it. The problem of entering a good college was foremost in our minds. We left a not-soon-to-be-forgotten impression upon the sports record of the school, develop- ing many three-letter men. We then held the annual carnival at the school, which we called Country Capers. Accompanied by Dr. Glenn we went to the Blairstown airport in connection with our physics course. We took a trip to Madison Square Garden to see a hockey game. We held a senior bridge (gin rummy provided for those who couldn ' t play bridge) and gave a play in May. As our last year drew to an end, we realized how much our six years at College High had meant to us. The old gentleman knocked his pipe against the mantlepiece and walked slowly to his armchair. The men continued puffing their pipes and cigars, while the gay old ladies con- tinued knitting their grandchildrens ' sweaters, boots, etc. A silence fell over the room as the last few embers in the fireplace died out.