Conant High School - Conanite Yearbook (Hoffman Estates, IL)

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Class Will We, the class of 1962 of Conant High School, do declare this our last will and testament . . To the faculty we leave HI + O + Ag! Away! To the Juniors: We leave our headaches. To the Sophomores: We leave some tranquilizers, and to their advisors - a supply of ear plugs. To the super-athletes of the Freshman class: We leave a chance at the Olympics. Go get it! To the incoming Freshman: We leave Club '54, I, Dorothy Allord, will all my junk cars to John Peard. Have funl l, Patricia Aucoin, leave my ability to make boys unhappy to Laurel Bowen. I, David Bacon, will my power with Mr. Woodward's chorines to my brother Jim. I, Sandra Bell, leave my seat in the Library to Dotty Jewell. I, Sharon Bosse, will my red blazer to any girl who can take a joke. I, Marilyn Boucher, will my hubcap in a tree excuse to Ellen Bean, Nancy Iurva, and Carol Mackey. I know it will help them as much as it helped f?J me. I, Jane Boudrieau, will my looks to Tomma Adams, my twin sister in '7A. I, Ellen Burgoyne, will my ability to do nothing to anyone who can do something. I, Russell Butler, will my '56 Ford to anybody who owns 99070 of Ford Motor Company. Maybe you can afford to run it. I, Kenneth Christian, will my ability to argue a point to Mr. Devoid. I, Joseph Cournoyer, will to Terry Davis my ability to clock-watch in English. I, Edith Davis, will my ability to foul out of basketball games to Weltha Barker. I, Evelyn Desmarais, will my ability to sing bass to I ohn Tribble. I, Lawrence Doane, leave my ability to avoid gym classes to Ken Daniels. l, William Doten, leave my position with Mrs. Kendall to anyone having trouble in Room 12. I, Roy Drew, will my mountain-climbing finesse to any action-seeking member of the Student Council. I, Celeste Emery, will my sharp claws and cage to anybody who has a temper. I, Donna Fuller, will my ability to get along with ALL teachers to Lim Stratton, Ginger Ouellette and my sister Bette. I, Kent Garland, leave my boxing ability to my brother Ieff. I, Sue Gilmore, will to my dear sister my ability to ride home in cars that break down on the Rindge Road. I, Samual Hackler, bequeath my elevated shoes to Wilfred Pelletier.

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lot is usually Open Nights Onlyl We ate lunch at a quaint little restaurant where we watched Dotty Allord fry our grasshoppers over a campfire. During lunch we saw a TV show with Jimmy Hautenan, who specializes in outwitting Jack Paar. Today's star was Pat Aucoin, modeling bear skin bathing suits. The creations, called September Morn, were by Marney Boucher. After lunch, we were entertained by the town's fluent M.C. , Jane Washburn, and a walking book of everybody's business, Sue Gilmore. Then, we headed for the country. First, we passed Danny Jewell's huge dinosaur farm, and Sharon told us that Judy Larochelle serves homecooked meals here every Saturday night. This must keep Judy busy since there are only three days a week here: Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Our next stop was Jim I-Iarris's ski area. Jim is experimenting with a new kind of kernel show, f pretty corny, huh? J. Roy Drew designed the lodge and now works there as a ski instructor. His chief patron? Martha Tribble, of course, who pays her lift fees by nursing injured patrons. Further along the path we see Larry Doane's pony ranch. On this thousand-acre farm, com- pletely underwater, he raises miniature sea-horses. After Larry's ranch, we entered a deep jun- gle. Here, we took on the local forest ranger, Dick Smith, just for extra protection. Dick pointed out a sight we might otherwise have missed. Staring through the thick jungle, we coulc' just barely make out the man on the swinging grapevine, Bob Oja. Just like other prehistoric villages, this one had its cave-woman and cave-man. Stowed away in a cave, half-way up a rocky cliff were Sandra Bell and her typically ferocious cave-mate, Kent Garland. Sharon told us that the local C'Avon representative, Donna Fuller, had quite a time getting up to this cozy cave. Circling back toward town, we passed Harvey Sawyer's Pteridactyl Airport. Chief test pilot here is Larry Kenneyg chief commercial pilot is Jim Leachg C Jim's hostess is Sandy Hazleton, of course 5. At the town end of the airport, standing in front of Buzzy Stewart's Rock Staple Co. , we saw a tiny figure flying a kite. Sharon then divulged one of the greatest surprises of the day. A discovery which was long attributed to Ben Franklin and his key was really made here by Tina Sawtelle. With the news still ringing in our ears we headed back toward my hotel. I was told that dinner would be served at six P.M. by Eveln Desmarais, chief cook and bottle washer, etc. , etc. , etc. , at The Arkade, a mountain inn, owned by David Bacon. Now I think I've told you of all the members of the Class of '62, They are safe and well, happy and contented in their little villagep And, for the sake of the rest of the world, let's leave them there! n

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I, James Harris, leave my coffee breaks at Woodbound to Donald Fish. I, Monty Hart, will the gearshift knob from my old Plymouth to my brother George. I, James l-lautanen, will my ability to accomplish the impossible, and also my overflowin' tears to Sandra Symonowicz. You will need both of them, I assure you, if you ever hope to trap that Navy man. I, Daniel Jewell, leave my position as treasurer of the l.A.A. to any Junior capable of handling complicated finances. I, Lawrence Kenney, leave my chubbiness and a large supply of Metrecal to Mike Reddy. You will find them invaluable. I, Judith Larochelle, will my ability to put the basketball through the hoop to anyone on next year's boy's varsity who wants to appropriate it. I, James Leach, leave my hair to Kenny Daniels in case his grandfather goes scissors crazy, and also my Arthur Murray dancing ability to anyone who is not adroit at the art. 1 I, Robert Oja, will my bookkeeping ability to Miss Hancock. I, Gloria Paradise, leave my vocabulary words to Peggy Peard. Who knows - Mr. Devoid may use the same words next year. I, Jean Raymond, will my sports ability to Carol Elsbree. A I, Peter Rivard, bequeath all the bottles on the back road to anyone who thinks they can get any thing from them. I, Christina Sawtelle, leave my ability for getting in and out of trouble to The Detention Kid. I, Harvey Sawyer, won't . . . unless lwant to. I, Dick Smith, leave my English themes in the hands of Mrs. Kendall - to tear up. I, Colleen Sebastian, will carefree philosophy to my sister Loretta. V I, William Stewart, leave my guitar-playing ability to Johnny Crawford. Maybe he will have more time than I had. l, Mike Symonowicz, will Nov. 10's to Terry Davis. I, Frank Tabor, leave my job at Coll's to the richest guy in school. , I, John Tabor, will my double negatives to anyone who needs to improve his handwriting. I, Martha Tribble, will my ability to wait patiently at the bottom of a ski slope to anyone who thinks Jack Belletete is worth waiting for. I, Ed Van Blarcom, will my Ford to any Chevy lover. I I, Jane Washburn, will my vast encyclopedia of jokes to Mr. Boucher. For supplementary edi- tions, see my sister. I, Sylvia White, leave my rendez-vous in the Library to any other watchful librarian. Signed and sealed by: Russell F. Butler