Fryeburg Academy - Academy Bell Yearbook (Fryeburg, ME)

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28 The Vfcaclcmy 'Bell execution, but in that split second the grin had faded. I shuddered to think of the results. But that was only one picture. There were still two more to be endured. Look- ing up, I was surprised to find that Mr. Davis was gone! Thinking that I could relax for a minute I heaved a deep sigh, slouched in my chair, and lowered my head. Suddenly a loud roar exploded in my left ear. Whirling around, I saw Mr. Davis towering in back of me. Please, my dear, straighten up! What do you think this is, a rest hour?'I I straightened with the speed ofa Sabre Iet and tried to calm my jangled nerves. Suddenly a shiver went up my spine as a hot, clammy hand dropped stealthily on my shoulder. Drop this shoulder down just a bit, pleasef' he said. I dropped it. Apparently satisfied Mr. Davis stalked across the fioor and crawled under the fiapping black cloth. Again my eyes became frozen on the camera. Out popped Mr. Davis. Now look right at me, please. Don't look at the camera, or youlll spoil the picturef, I finally located the wiry little man about halfway between the camera and one of the glaring lights. I-Ie was staring wildly at me. Thinking I had done something wrong again, I quickly lowered my eyes. This brought another ex- plosion. Will you please look at me? How can I take your picture with your eyes down? Up went my eyes. Mr. Davis, while holding my eyes in a hypnotic stare, asked me if I liked fish. How was I to know that I was supposed to say A'yes while he snapped the picture? This would have given the illusion of a smile! The dam- age had been done, however, as Mr. Davis had snapped the picture despite my negative reply. In desperation he agreed to take the next one in a sober pose. Thinking this one would be easier, I kept my eyes on Mr. Davis and followed him each time he moved. I was determined not to let him out of my sight. All went well until I detected a slight movement out of the corner of my eye. It came from the di- rection of the dressing room door. There was Marlene peeking at me through the half-open door. Her look of anxiety was too much for my over-worked nerves. Despite my efforts, I felt a grin creeping across my face. I burst out laughing. Too late I remembered poor Mr. Davis. The picture had been taken. With a very discouraged look on his face, Mr. Davis motioned for me to send in the next one. We lived in a mixed state of constant dread and anticipation for the next week. When our proofs finally arrived we tore open the packages and fearfully lifted out the folders. My first proof was the one that had the half-faded smile on it. I looked as if I had just swallowed a glass of lemon juice. With an agonized groan I picked up the second one. This was the one that had been snapped while

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The Vfcadcmy 'Bell 27 playing varsity football for two years and being captain third, he had played varsity baseball and basketball. He was an honor student, and well-liked on the campus. This game was the biggest of the year, the play-off between Eaton and David- son colleges for the state title. Both teams were undefeated and were crack foot- ball machines. The players, coaches, and even the managers, had been drilled with exacting precision into living and thinking football. The day was perfect for football, and of the many thousands in the stadium, almost everyone was yelling at the top of his lungs, but the players couldnit hear that. They were obsessed by the thought of winning this all-important game. The score stood 6-6 with the ball resting on the Eaton thirty-five. With only a few minutes of playing time remaining, the quarterback of Eaton decided to pass. The pass went to Ieff out by his left end, but he was hit hard by a would-be tackler and spun around. Somewhat dazed, he kept right on going toward his own goal! His teammates caught him and tried to bring him down, but in vain. He crossed the goal line, and a man from Davidson brought him down. There just wasn't time enough left to undo the terrible damage and Davidson won 8-6. The despair and desolation in the stands was depressing. In the dressing room Ieff, hurriedly taking a shower and dressing, could hear the vicious undercur- rents which were ripping him apart. He could well imagine what the players were saying, and he felt they were justified in saying it. Years had passed since that game, and Ieff had put on weight. He was grey- ing slightly, and he had an air of authority about him. The years had been good to Iefif, and he had risen to great heights in the transportation business. He was very well-to-do. Much of his money he spent on Eaton trying, by giving to his college, to compensate for his terrific blunder in that long-past game. He gave money for the new Held house and stadium and art building. He was President of the Board of Trustees. The year of his twenty-fifth reunion Ielf had returned to his alma mater for the big celebration. As he walked into the large reception hall, he was greeted by many friends and admirers, but his ears caught a remark that filled him with anguish. Someone had just greeted him when another man walked into the room, strolled over to a fellow standing by the wall and asked, Who is that big wheel?,' The reply was, Oh, that,s Ieff Hamilton, you know, the man who lost the game to Davidson twenty-five years agoll' IOHN FREIDAY, '52 WATCH THE BIRDIE AGTILT your head to the left, please. Tuck your right elbow in a little. Now you aren't as sober as all that, are you? How about a nice smile? I promptly pasted a sickly grin on my perspiring face. There was a second's pause before the final

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The tficadenzy Bell 29 I was indignantly telling Mr. Davis I did not like fish. I appeared ready to tackle the heaviest guy at Notre Dame. With a shudder I put it down and started to pick up the next one. Then I remembered this was the one in which I had been laughing. I dreaded to look at it. Then Rae spoke up and said, 'IOh, that's good. Gee, that is wonderful? FRANCES BUSWELL, ,gr GRAMPA I VVANT to take you with me to an old-fashioned, fifteen-room farmhouse. Now probably you will say, What in the world are we doing here?,' You will find this rambling dwelling occupied by a little old man with bright blue eyes and a head full of stories. He is short and' has a great shock of white hair. You can imagine his looks and appearance by recalling someone you know who is seventy-three. He greets you with a cheery Hello and invites you in. Before you can ap- preciate the man, I must tell you something about him. He never eats eggs, so he says, because K'Had Harmon ate so many eggs he Hew up in a tree and they had to shoot him to get him downf' He likes to smoke his pipe so well that he says he would go without eating his meals if he could have his pipe. He stays at home most of the time because Hthese cars they have nowadays are dangerous, make me feel like a chicken in a coop on the way to 'ailfi He thinks very much of children and does everything he can to help them. One day he was Working vigorously on something, but he wouldn't tell us what it was. When it was completed, we had a cute little doll's carriage made of odds and ends that Grampa had found. He has also made small wheelbarrows, axe handles, hammer handles, stools, and even baseball bats. i He has a perfect mania for picking berries. Every summer he takes his berry pail and starts out to pick all the wild berries he can find for miles around. Some- times he stays out all day. This story would not be complete without mentioning his dog. He thinks more of her than anything in the world. She stays with him day andnight. He has taught her to shake hands, and he talks to her as if she were human. Grampa is not famous, rich or handsome, but he is kind-hearted, thoughtful and helpful. He will do anything to help his friends and his family. He taps shoes and repairs harnesses. He is the general handy man for the town. But if a tool is lost or left in the wrong place he has a fit. His quick wit and bright sense of humor draw people to him and he is much thought of by everyone. They say to him, I see you shaved this morningf, Yep, shaved before lightf' His short gray beard makes him look quaint and distinguished. We are always amused by the countless stories he tells of what he has been