Fairhaven High School - Huttlestonian Yearbook (Fairhaven, MA)

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EXPLANATORY I I ' ve had a love affair with a school! I’m not so sure how it came to pass. Nor do I know the moment when the passion seized me. But for forty years and more I have been mesmerized, enchanted and bewitched. Into a vast devotion. II Perhaps first. . . it was sheer loveliness that dazzled . . . Clean marble arch and dark oak . . . vaulting up and up. Gargoyles leering, iron work lacing. Myriad windows shot with color. All these can make the senses reel. III A lighted clock that seized the skies, A harmony of copper, brass and warm wood-cutting, A spaciousness that gentled the spirit, A twisted knot of grandeur past. . . and hope prophetic AW these could well command devotion. IV And then there was the pull of lore attending. Tradition ' s steady building with the years. Magnificent tales of generous opulence About the one who made it all. Who could escape a fascination? V And then THEY came . . . the live ones . . . stepping through the years. The shouting, questing, jeering, grumbling pack of youthful heirs and heiresses. Ready to know their inheritance ... to seize it or reject it; The good little sturdy kids; the bad little vandal kids. The quick ones and the slow ones . . . the busy and the languid. And they kept coming and laid hold upon me. VI One day the boys wore baggy pants and knobby sweaters; The girls wore dimity and voile with satin sashes; One day the skirts fell long; one day the skirts shot up! A moment of crew cuts there was . . . then One of grubby beards and braggadocio moustaches: One could not help but be intrigued. VII I ' ve seen them all. . . the saddle shoes . . . the clogs. The kerchief knotted tight beneath a gentle chin. The neckline scooping low before the following eye abashed. And midriff bare . . . above protesting stretch of denim, faded blue. At these I have expostulated or laughed or sucked in shocked breath! VIII Those many, many boys and girls . . . over the years I see them Sitting in serries rows through a brief blending of our days. A little while, our minds, excited and attuned . . . fused and sparkled! Then always they’d go . . . and some

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Clerical Staff 7

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were never seen again. Yet in our meeting had been a comradeship extraordinary. IX There has always been a sharing Within the confines of those walls. Wild and whirling ideas . . . fluid and molten . . . tossed about from mind to mind. Caught a moment; stroked a moment. Then, half rueful . . . cast aside; And the youthful dreams . . . largely inferred . . . often not spoken. Some to bloom, but most to die Are as a fragrance in the memories of that place. X Frozen stark upon the eyeball lie clear scenes from all the years; Curtains parting at the play . . . climaxing days of busy magic. Long blue lines of caps and gowns, and solemn faces wet with tears! Expressions stolid, rapt, bored or enchanted. As poor bedeviled Hamlet offered up his answers! XI Yet not only the young were party to the pact that bound me. For . . . peripheral to their restless tide, exhausting and demanding . . . My colleagues . . . fellow to my enchantment. . . walked with me. And we have joined hands. Yes, we have delighted in each other, and sustained each other Over many days. XII Now, before ... I told you that I did not know why it has come to be, My deep, enduring passion for this school From 21 to 68 are many years to measure. And I, too, have sometimes felt the temptings and the urge to be unfaithful! Yet under the clock tower it has ever been warm and good. XIII — Therefore, I have abided, and gloried in the dark oak sweeping up and up. And in the joyful, wistful, searching, troubled faces of my children And I have found the chance to BE myself and KNOW myself and GIVE myself. And been allowed to see the sudden splendid light of understanding Flare ... in the blue eyes and the brown. As a new concept dawned. XIV I do not know what lies ahead now . . . away from the clock tower. Where the myriad windows never flash their colors; But there will be beauty, gentleness, and friending a-plenty . . . REMEMBERED, To warm the days to come Though fate have icy fingers! 4 + So it is not really strange, you know, when I say that I have had a love affair with a school. For that is how it is. Mabel Hoyle Knipe (Upon retiremerjt) Tenure: Sept. 1928 . . .June 1974.