Diman Vocational High School - Artisan Yearbook (Fall River, MA)

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Henry Joannes, was so busy talking that he punched a hole in my thumb instead of the ticket. Luckily a bone specialist, Dr. Len Mroz, was on board and treated my thumb. We' slept in our lower berths that night and the next morning reached our destination, Da as. As we were in no hurry, and we wanted to enjoy ourselves, we registered at the Shannon Biltless Hotel, owned and operated by Gerald Shannon. We visited him in his Pent House and Ron Leger was in and out all of the time. It seems that Ron and John Harrington were silent partners in the business. That afternoon we read the Texas E. C. , a daily newspaper. When we reached the editorial page, we found that Ed Campbell was owner, editor, reporter, and copy boy. The ball game was being broad- cast at the time and we knew the voice was familiar, but could not place it. When the announcer gave his name we knew that we were listening to an old familiar voice, that of Ernie Cote. When the ball game was over we listened to the Frank Ciosek Hour. We heard him play such popular songs as, I'll Break Your Bones Again, Cathleen. After this tune, the radio went on the blink.. Ron Leger picked us up for supper and he took us to the Chase Casino, where we saw Reliable Ray and Gruesome Bruce wrestle for the Needleweight Championship of the World. These aliases were none other than Ray Curry and Bruce Burton. We managed to see Richard Chase, the owner of the Casino, who apologized for not being able to entertain us, for he had an appointment with oil-millionaire, Eddy Michael, on a big deal. We wanted to relax a while and we did exactly that at the Boyerhemian Room, where we met the owner, bartender, and sampler, Kenn Boyer. We swapped stories, brought each other up to date on the Dimanites we had met. After checking out, we decided that Swansquarter, North Carolina would be next on our list, because Les Robinson was making this spot a center of his activities for the Jimmie Fund. It was a quick trip and before we knew it, our goodbyes were said and we were on our way to Flatbush, New York and the LaRosie Macaroni Plant. There in the middle of this famous plant was Roger Toni bending elbows in the macaroni. From there we went to Manhattan to see the play Julius Seize Her, starring Chuck Prezalor, the oddest name and also the most famous on Broadway. After seeing the sights of New York, we decided that the most welcome sight would be Fall River. And indeed it was. The Main Street had many familiar faces and a few and new businesses such as, Hinchliffe-Your Friendly Lincoln, Mercury Dealer, Norm Baraby's Funeral Home, Banville's Waste-Land Real Estate Company, Medeiros' Beauty Saloon. We knew that we could find Ray Legault at the nearest Boys' Club, so that was our next stop. He told us of George Wilson, who was teaching advance physics at the new' Diman Vocational High School, which included Nick Fitton's barn. Ray also said that Alan Levrault was seeking the appointment of Secretary of State, and Ernest Desnoyer had an auto plant for hot-rods iust outside of Boston. Teves later informed me that Tom Krupa was also getting his beans every week, playing in his uncle Gene Krupa's band. Tom and I then parted, as he was staying at his folks home that weekend. I took a bus to my own home, and to my amazement, the driver was my old friend, Walter Drewniak. As we drove through the city, I told him of the other students of Diman I had met, and he enlightened me about Ray Wrobel, who had become a patrolman, and is still pounding the beat. Just then, we swerved off the road and plummeted over a I000 foot drop. I screamed, only to open my eyes and find myself on the floor besides my bed. I wiped away the sweat, as I realized it was only a dream, but best of all, today is the day I am supposed to enlist in the Air Force, and now I can hardly wait to be discharged . . . in Hong Kong! James C. Hopkins Thomas M. Teves Kenn J. Boyer 39

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CLASS PROPHECY On June 'l, 1960, we were discharged from the Fugi Air Force Base in Hong Kong, China. Tom Teves and I decided to use our flight pay instead of having the U.S. Air Force supply us with the transportation to the States. In this way we could tour half the world on our way home. We were sorry that we had to leave Ray Michaud and Matt Drewniak behind, but they had another year to serve. Bidding farewell to them, we drew our flight pay and were on our way. The Navy was kind enough to give us a ride on the U.S.S. Hank to Tokyo, Japan. While en route, we were given our seasick pills by Pharmacist Mate, Jim Giblin. Then to add surprise to surprise, we learned that Seaman Ken Cookson was also aboard. When we reached Tokyo we were greeted by Lt. John L. Rogers of the U.S. Marines, Commandant of the Serviceman's Club. As we chatted away like magpies, John managed to tell us of an American baseball team touring Japan, and the starting pitcher of the team was Big Bob Coulombe, whose pitching record for the Milwaukee Braves was tops in the Na- tional League. Tom decided that he needed a shave and a haircut at the Army Ex- change. Guess who wrapped the towel around his neck? None other than Richie Biello. We talked over old times as he stood on a stool cutting Tom's hair. He told us that Vince Campbell was a foreign correspondent to Japan. He also said that Jere Duffy was doing a great iob broadcasting for Radio Free Europe. It was suggested that we go to the Sung Lo Air Force Base to get a hop to Hawaii. The suggestion was the best piece of advice we had been given. Before we knew it we were on board and the pilot, Dave DeNadal, quickly had us 10,000 feet above the ground and headed for the paradise island of Hawaii. The overnight accommodations on the plane were sumptuous and comfortable. Thus, we were very fresh in the morn- ing when we started our short tour of the Island. We went to Dave's favorite restaurant, the Hamel Lunch Box, owned and operated by Al Hamel. Jim Greenwood, Mr. America, who was vacationing in Honolulu, dropped in while we were finishing our coffee. Jim told us about Alex Bond who owned and managed a fieet of fishing boats and advised us to see Alex who was planning a trip to the States and maybe we would be lucky enough to get a leisurely cruise home. As fortune would have it, Alex was heading to- ward Frisco and was only too happy to have us on board. We also learned that Alex had taken on a partner in the business, Ken Legaulty and they were a fine pair to run that business. While en route to Frisco, we contacted Don Hamel on the short wave radio and our conversations were long and we were brought up to date on all events. We had a wonderful trip and were happy to see San Francisco Bay. After Bond's boat was moored at Fisherman's Wharf, we hailed a taxi to get us to the center of the city. Needless to say the hackie was Al Bento who brought us to a friend of ours, Tom Clarke, the super salesman for Pontes' Clothiers. We were fitted for our first civilian suit which was a welcome change. While the tailor, Walt Bigos, was altering our suits, we realized that we were famished. We found a nice little restaurant on Main Street and went in. While we were eating, the chef stepped out to visit the customers to make sure that everything was satisfactory. We almost dropped! He was none other than our own Foster Thompson. After hearty greetings, Foster brought us up to date with the news of Dimanites who were living in California. He told us about Ron Talbot's attendance at college in California and his working part time in the restaurant. John Wheadon and Francis Harrington owned an Orange Grove in Southern California and were very prosperous. Bob Boissonneault and Ron White were logging and lumbering the Redwood trees of Northern California. The real surprise came when Foster told us about George Faris having a five year contract with the Los Angeles Rams. lt, indeed, was a pleasant reunion and we sadly departed. We returned to pick up our suits, said our goodbyes, headed for the station, and boarded a train that was headed for Texas. After being comfortably seated and en- ioying the view, we were asked to present our tickets. The conductor, none other than 38

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SENIOR CLASS HISTORY ln each hugh epoch of time, there comes forth from at least one school in this wonderful country of ours, a group of men whose academic and voca- tional achievements are so great, so irrevocable, and so unapproachable, that it would be a blotch on our American way of life, if their accomplishments were not made known to the rest of the world! This is the story of the 55 of '55, and long may it be told before the hearths of the humblest cot- tages, or to an eager audience housed in a mamoth hall, for this is the story of fifty-five American men who attempted in the true American spirit, to gain the knowledge and wisdom which was so profoundly given by a score of adept instructors in the Voca- tional High School known as Diman. Their battle against an uneducated way of life deserves recogni- tion. Their struggle to acquire the knowledge they so desperately sought and needed, should be made known to the rest of the world, as a shining example of how fifty-five young men, braved four years of grueling assignments and exhausting shop work, to emerge as well-rounded, skilled and experienced artisans. This then, is their story . . . A tribute, to their glory! As the last week of summer heralded the ending of our vacation period, the Horn of Diman, ini- tiated us into our Freshman year, a great awaken- ing sound, burning into us, the imprint of our future days in the spacious and well-tooled shops. It wasn't easy for us to give up comparative freedom and Congeniality of an ordinary high school, and resign ourselves to the simple, hard, but rewarding task of work . . . work . . . and more work! We began our torturous iourney in the Fall of '51, with a text book in one hand, and our shop tools in the other, but we kept to the task assigned us, and soon became prolific, if not expert, in our respective trades. But the journey to reward was hard, and by the end of our first year at Diman, many faces that were with us when we started our courses, were not to be found among us, as we headed down Hart- well Street away from the school for a while, to our homes, to recuperate from our first year, and pos- sibly our hardest, and show off our gained knowl- edge! In the Fall of '52, we again entered the portals of Diman, to continue our gauntlet of education where we had commenced. Through forty weeks, we fought relentlesly against the basic desires in each and every one of us to take the easy way out, to go through life with a strong back and a weak mind, yet as strong as this desire was, the drive for knowl- edge was stronger, and it wasn't too long, before the last week of our Sophomore year was hence, and we were receiving our report cards, overioyed that next year, we would return to continue our pursuit of education as Juniors. But as ioyous as we were, we were also despondent, for this Sophomore year had been the most grinding year we had faced, or would ever, face: almost half the group of 55 had found the course too grueling, and had either been dropped out, or turned to less strenuous fields of endeavor. Our Junior year was a credit to our previous three years of preparation and training. We sky-rocketed through the forty weeks of exams and shop work to reach the end of the vintage year without a fatality in the whole group. We also attempted our first stage play, entitled Decision! , by Ed. Camp- bell, with Robert Coulombe, Kenneth Boyer, James Hopkins, Raymond Curry, and Foster Thompson. Senior year! The end result of three previous years of gruelling preparation and thought-provocative assignments. This was the year we all remember best. Dances run regularly helped to speed the year along. Sports activities helped erase the bitter memories of seemingly unmerciful instructors. The production of our yearbook became a breakneck contest between our four years of manufacturing skill, and the yearboak's deadline! The fourth year came and passed, and the inex- perienced young men who had started on the uphill iourney to knowledge, had evolved into master craftsmen in their trades, with a fine crop of acad- emic records to booster their titles. But the fourth year was also the hardest, and the responsibilities placed on their learning ability were great. Still, three years of preparatory assignments had hard- ened them, and various activities and assignments made the year pass swiftly. So, they conquered the fourth year in true American style, and those who saw it through, and mastered the four years of toughening assignments, were now graduates, and ready to meet any challenge that life could hurl at them! They had it rough, those 55 of '55, but it was not without fun and laughter and good times. Although at first, we were inclined to look upon our instruc- tors as foes to be wary of, it was not long before we had found that they were in reality, loyal com- panions, and true, and there was not a one among them who would not give up freely of his time, to help us in our quest for knowledge. We are proud that we have had the opportunity to share in the proud and growing heritage of Diman. We are equally proud, that Diman has been an instrumental factor, in our lives, starting us off in the right di- rection, and with the basic knowledge, to a well- rounded, well-adjusted life, in this wonderful coun- try of ours. To Diman, our Alma Mater, to our teachers and instructors, who so amply aided us, and to our be- loved parents, to whom we owe so much, our humble thanks, and sincere appreciation, for giving us the right, and the means, for a well-adjusted, and un- doubtedly, bountiful life. To you, the very best. Your Yearbook Editor