Hartford High School - Hartford Key Yearbook (White River Junction, VT)

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The Staff of the Year Book of The Class of 1938 John Philip Goss . Charles Wallace Snow Raymond Lahah . Ahmand Guarino Gladys Coutermarsh Ha hold Jones Christine Robinson Coi.lameh Abbott Madeline Moore Marie De Roche . John Dutton . Robert Luce . Leo Sawyer Jeanne Hawick Helen Cole Robert Goss . Everett Whitney . Angelo Scelza Richard Jorgensen Pauline Eske Robert Logan Robert Goss . FREDERICK GOBEILLE Jane Bixby Arline Parker Louisa Iyontos Evelyn Adams Jeanne Hawick . Editor-in-Chief Business Manager Personnel Editor Organization Editor Orchestra Glee Club Bug Club Masquers . Patratores Outing Club Athletic Editor . Football . Basketball Girls' Basketball Baseball A rt Editor Advertising Manager

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The failure of modern youth to recognize the possibility of a “lower deep” is one of the causes of the economic and social unrest of this twentieth century. Young people who have not had the best of fortune have developed a feeling of defeat, an attitude of despair. They think that there are no more worlds to conquer. 1 hey believe that everything has been discovered that there is to discover. 1 hey know that they are a defeated generation defeatism at its worst. Emerson’s philosophy is still true. The chance of discovering new things is as boundless as the universe itself. Nobody has gone to Mars yet. No one has penetrated the deepest waters in the ocean yet. Nor has any one dug his way to China yet. If anyone says there is nothing left in the world let him build a rocket ship and journey to the moon. We haven’t beaten the cow yet and there’s plenty to be learned. It would be superfluous to discuss the need for cures of infantile paralysis, diabetes, tuberculosis, cancer, and other dread diseases. Nor does one need to mention that crime presents one of our biggest problems. It would be utter foolishness to say that air travel does not need some doctoring up. There are many ways, indeed, which lead to success and a happier life. 1 he attitude with which we face tomorrow means much if we wish to succeed. It makes a difference whether we take defeat with a smile or a frown or whether we have due faith in our ability. Sir Thomas Browne states that “Every man truly lives, so long as he acts his nature, or in some way makes good the faculties of himself.” He should, in other words, resolve to put his own special abilities to some good use. History is but a record of glorious people, of great men and great women, who have made “good the faculties of themselves.” There is Madame Curie who, in spite of defeat and despair, did much toward the cure of cancer with radium. '1 here is Admiral Byrd, probably the greatest modern explorer, who has lived up to his high ideals and who has discovered new worlds in a world already thought to be thoroughly explored. They, like many other lesser mortals, may have had their moments when they turned wistfully to thoughts of the road not taken. But at least they have had the satisfaction of knowing that the way they chose was worth all the struggle and sacrifice, the heart ache and the heart-break that the road of life so often requires for those who would truly succeed. Lowell describes the ascent of the path that leads to ampler fates in his tribute to Abraham Lincoln. “And every turf the fierce foot clings to, bleeds.” 1 here are many roads that lead to ignoble ends. Not all have fame and wealth awaiting the traveler. We shall find, however, that if we keep it a friendly road and that if we persevere in aims that are good, happiness and success should await us at the end of the way. Which road shall be yours, classmates? Which shall be mine? Coi.i-.amek Martin Abbott

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Class History Chronicle of '38 For the graduating class of 1938 there lias been a truly bright and successful history. It all began in September. 1934, when we, a large group of eighty-one little Freshmen, all confused and all uncertain, gallantly forged our way into Hartford High School, to drink therefrom, the Well of Knowledge dry. Even then we were grateful to those who had sent us so gaily on our way that previous June, for Miss Reagan, Mr. Domey, Mr. Farnham, Mr. Phelps, and their many kind assistants had expended much time and energy in behalf of that Freshmen class to be. Many thanks are also due to the class of ’35 for that gay Freshmen Reception which put us at so much ease, almost on Senior footing, for an evening, at least. Nor should we forget to pay fitting tribute to those Freshmen officers, Everett Whitney, president; Roger Renault, vice president; Mayme Riley, secretary; and Jane Bixby, treasurer, for their loyalty and invaluable service to us during those “dangerous days.” It required someone like President Whitney to keep us from stampeding in search of new objects of interest, new thrills, new jokes to play, or from wearying upper-classmen with questions, such as, “Where’s room 10?” “What time does this period end?” or “When do we eat?” But after all, it is not the Freshmen who ask the questions; it’s the teachers! It is here that we should pause to consider those who aided us through the problems of that first year. They were: Mr. Parker, principal; Mr. ()sgood, sub-master; Miss Kingsbury, head of the business department; Miss Oakes, of the English division; Miss Young, teacher of French, mathematics and science; Miss Thurston, head of the home economics department ; Mr. Allen, instructor of French and history, and director of music; Mr. Saunders, the manual training teacher; Mr. Holland, the new history, science, and biology teacher, and athletic coach; Mr. Smith. Latin and English teacher; and Miss Jensen, of the business department. The road that might have been so rough was made smooth, from the very start, by them. It was not long after our entrance to the high school that we made an effort to show at least a little ability in contributions to “The Smudge,” which was also new that Freshmen year. Several soon showed promise as beginners in athletics and, in short, everyone endeavored to cooperate in all events open to Freshmen for the betterment of the school. In the late fall the annual Stunt Night program gave us an opportunity to show our dramatic talent, which we found, much to our embarrassment, to be somewhat limited. Nevertheless, we did our “Freshie” best to add to the foolish fun of the evening, and were not much disappointed when our modern songs received no prize. The months rolled by quickly, with much work and much play on the part of the “young ones.” Before we knew it, in fact, the year had passed, as all Freshmen years do, gradually transforming the giggling girls and shy boys into the serious and oft unsmiling grown-ups of 1938. It is always sad to see them go, those Freshmen days, for they take with them in their passing a something that never returns