Conshohocken High School - Echo Yearbook (Conshohocken, PA)

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CLASS PROPHECY IT DOESN’T seem like five years since graduation night for the Class of 42 at C. II. S.. but I guess time does fly when you’re in the service of the t. S. Army. Yes. five long years have lapsed since we stood on the stage in the auditorium with our heads high and our chests out. accepting our diplomas from lr. Landis. Since then things have hap| ened pretty fast and at present I’m sitting behind a desk here at the Customs House in Philadelphia registering draftees and enlistees from Conshohocken for the army. In just a few minutes the doors will open and 1 11 he quite busy signing up the new recruits. I just wonder, as I sit here, what all my classmates are doing for a living. Well, the doors have just ofiened and here comes the stampede of boys, full of pep and enthusiasm. Name? I asked the first enthusiastic lad. without lifting my eyes. Carl Hylinski. Why, Minnie, you old son of a horse-slioe! W here have you been all my life— well, for the past four and a half ears anyhow y” Oh, after graduation I went to night school and liecame a machinist and I held down a nice position at Bendix until I was called. Come on. move along there! yelled the desk sergeant. Sec you when I’m through. Min.’ I assured him. Sure thing. he said as he vanished into the examination room. Next, a dignified looking gentleman stepped up and the strijws on my sleeves turned upside-down when I saw behind that false front my long lost pal. ALBERT t Cl STIVE. Well, I asked, going to a ball? No. ’ answered Albert, I must dress this way. Yes? W by?” I questioned. You’ve heard of the Augustine Venetian Cafe. You know, the place with its famous Spaghetti Ballroom ami the beautiful Carlican Roof. ’ he answered. Sav, I know the place. I’ve never been there, though too ritzy for me, I said. Don’t tell me you’re the doorman! I'll tell you a secret, lie said, leaning over to whisper into my ear. l own the place. And another thing—you’ve heard of the great Italian chef. Alhertino Augustino? That’s me. Well dog my cats!’ was my expression of emotion. Again the desk sergeant yelled to move on. ith sheets of music sticking out of ever pocket, up stepped a youngster who looked like a refugee from Tin Pan Alley. Before I had time to ask any questions, he spoke. Name. Anthony Pagliaro; former occupation. hand leader The Pagan Pegs’ currently featured at the Augustine Venetian Cafe; Jeanne Bkrgey. vocalist; and if vou have any business with me you’ll have to see my business manager. Kazzmer Stans. Hello. Nin,’ I greeted him now for this was the first chance I had. I didn’t know the Class of ’42 would mono|H lize the recruiting office today, I said to him. Oh, you know that class; here today gone tomorrow. Here are my pa| ers. 1 11 leave you before that desk sergeant splits his bronchial tubes.” he said and went. This time it was a threesome that stepjied up to my desk. These fellows I recognized immediately. Jamzelli! Wisnieski! Wosczyna! I greeted them in a joyous tone. How can you look so happy when this world is so cruel? questioned Emil. What’s wrong, fellows? I asked, and Dominic answered me. The army broke up the best little butcher business you ever saw. You see. after grad- 4

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CLASS POEM 1942 Helen 1). Blair Yesterday ue Hatched the gold of childhoixl Bathe our ship and gild a distant sea; And on the Buy of Education ue embarked And slowly sailed toward the Sea of Maturity. Through every storm our gallant craft sailed on; II ares of disappointment oft wont to rise; On maps of the future ue charted our course, ('.loads of uncertainty veiling, hut making us wise. Strong uere the hands of our captain and crew, Guiding us safely past failure's shoal. From whirlpools of h im- they kept us sailing And steered us onward toward our goal. Many years ue sailed; clear became our course, Brightening with each discovery made. Then this night ue drift victoriously upon The Fort of Graduation—lie made our grade. For a moment ice drop anchor, as childhood Swiftly fades from the evening sky. To bid our shipmates, our captain, and crew A grateful and reluctant last good-bye. ow, each to his wheel, there's one more voyage. More satisf ying, yet filled with strife; But as ue faced the Bay of Education. H e turn with courage to the Sea of Life. 3

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nation we got together ami worked like mad. Xml now when ImsinesK starts to hoom. what happens? We get drafted. Oh. boo hooP I he threesome walked away as full of joy as a funeral procession, and just as tearful. As this group departed another terrible trio confronted me. All decked out in dungarees, flannel shirts, and high shoes it was simple to recognize our three class carpenters: Teddy Uba, Thomas Coyne, and Richard I ha. As they signed their respective papers I asked. Well, did you three really get together? Teddy spoke: We sure did and our business is just perfect. Tom does all the necessary driving. Richard takes care of all the business ami I get off easy; I do all the work. Yep, there’s nothing hut a one-for-aLI and all-for-one policy in our business. Corporal, move those fellows faster! ordered the desk sergeant. And I did for a while, until I was mobbed by th« Ambitious Agitators of the Class of ’42. l or this group IIahky Ct hi seemed to do all the talking. Hello. Harry. I greeted him. Don't tell me you fellows are all together. We sure are. We've heen together since we finished school. said Harry. Doing what? I asked. We're in tin boxing game. Meet the gang. Joe Andraka. trainer: Francis Alfonse. handler: Armond Ciccotti, publicity manager: Joe Elmo. manager; and I'm the boxer. As Harry called their names they bowed, but Slugger had to be different. I le curtsied. Corporal, move them along. There’s still a bunch outside. This was the desk sergeant again. Just at this moment I was startled by a crashing door. To my amazement the open doorway revealed a crowd of eager young ladies (?). They charged for my desk like a herd of buffaloes. There was an awful moh of them, hut amongst others I noticed Marie K asopsky, Stella Koronmewtcz, Hetty Ootavals. Olivia Lewis. Hu line Hil icki. Catherine Taa arogoski, and Clara Wienczek. Clara pleaded above the noise. We want our husbands back. You can’t draft them: they’re married to us, and we won't be without them just liecause you want them in the Army. I hadn't a chance to s| eak localise the noise had brought the Military Police to the scene and all those lovely little ladies were hurried out quite unceremoniously, with instructions to send appeals to their local Draft Hoard Offices. They made quite a mess of the room, but the recruiting went on as if nothing had happened. The next one up was a short, blond fellow. I well remembered Calain Hot R-GEALLT. Hello there, Cal in. What can I do for a on? I asked. I would like to know where to offer my services as an aeronautical engineer. he said. You go up to the fourth floor and look for a door with ’Specialists Recruiting Officer' on it. Co in there. By the way. Calvin, you’d be surprised at all the recruits that have been here today. Most of them are from our class. They must all he signing up. I heard him sa . Did oti know that that handsome. blond brute, Joe Szti binski. joined the Marines and is well on his way to an officer's ranking? Cood for him, I commented. Well, thanks for the information. See you again soon, he said as he left. So long, and good luck. I thought to myself as lie went out. retracing his steps. The next customer was a stout fellow. His name—of course I recall it—Robert Smith. Hello, Robert. Still driving around in that car of yours?' I asked. Oh. heavenly days, why did you have to mention driving to me? Now my day is ruined, he said with a deep frown. Why, what's wrong. Hob? I asked. Well, three years hack I had a brain storm and I contacted Emilia Hello and