Holbrook High School - Echo Yearbook (Holbrook, MA)

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10 THE ECHO It was none other than Arlene Cote who has become head hostess at this lovely ice cream parlor. She informed me that the owner of this huge chain of stands was Dean Hooker. Unfortunately, Dean was touring Europe with a group of men from a local Bachelor’s Club so naturally I should not be able to see him. However, I had seen Arlene, and that was enough in itself. Being rather travel-worn, I stopped at a cozy inn for dinner and a good night’s sleep. I entered the dining room, picked up the menu, and here got another delightful surprise. At the bottom of the menu were the words, ‘ Doris Estabrook, Proprietress.” I immediately asked to see the owner. It was good to see Doris again, and we had a nice talk about a few of our friends. It appears that Anne Smith is now running a day nursery in New York and is doing mig hty well. One of the children in Anne’s nursery bore the name of George A. Carter IV. I was naturally interested in this, and Doris informed me that George Carter HI was happily married and living on the other side of the city of New York. He is now a salesman for the Heinz Company, so far having sold 55 of the 57 varieties. Later, when I saw George, he told me that our classmate, Beverly Higgins, was touring the country giving free Home Nursing lessons to high school girls. My room at Doris’s was furnished beautifully. I sank into a large chair and began to read the evening paper. On the sports page, these words greeted mv eyes: “CASEY STENGLE RETIRES. FORMER FIRST SACKER, WAL- TER DONOVAN, TAKES OVER MANAGERIAL DUTIES OF BOSTON BRAVES.” I was elated. Imagine Donney managing his favorite team. They’ll be Series bound now! On the radio page, I saw Stacia Czapla’s name. Remember the radio serial, “Dear John”? Well, John met with a sad end, and now it’s “Dear Henry.” Stacia is playing the lead, and I have no doubt that she will do a splendid job of acting. In the morning I said good-bye to Doris and left for New York. While lurning into a gasoline station to refill the tank again, I narrowly missed col- liding with a huge, black limousine. The chauffeur stepped out of the car, and I was about to offer apologies when I saw who he was. Burwell Caspersen! And sitting in the back seat fairly overloaded with glittering jewels sat Hilda Terrazano! We all started talking, I, myself, fairly bursting with joy at the sight of them. Hilda was married to a count and was living in a big apartment on Riverside View. She had seen Burwell in the city one day driving a taxi and had hired him on the spot. I left them then and continued on my way to the city. I attended a matinee at Radio City for relaxation that afternoon. I thrilled at the sight of the uniformed Rocketts going through their faultless routine. Suddenly, I sat up with surprise. The fourth and fifth girls from the left appeared very familiar to me. To satisfy my curiosity, I borrowed my neigh- bor’s opera glasses and peered through them. Sure enough! Those two could he none other than Elaine Megley and Marie Mack. So after all these years, they are still together.

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THE ECHO 9 Turning to the happy side as well as to the unhappy side, the class giggler is Lorrell Keller, and the biggest fusser is Arlene Cote. Over-tired from work, the following list of miscellaneous titles was com- piled: Businesslike Anne Smith Fastest typist and cutest girl Marjorie Smart Most conscientious and charming Shirley Cook Most original, agreeable, and artistic Jean Hollis Most versatile Hilda Terrazano Dietician Doris Estabrook Most athletic girl Muriel Quincy Best singer and coquette Phyllis Wilson Worst penman Burwell Caspersen Most sociable Catherine Mosesso Best actress Stacia Czapla Shortest girl Ruth Andrew Idealist Class of 1942 One most likely to succeed Class of 1942 Procrastinator George Carter Realizing to the greatest extent that this class is one in a million, these important decisions will be entrusted to your memories. CLASS PROPHECY By Jean Hollis Ah! The prosperous and peaceful year of 1952! Will the world long remem- ber the richness and greatness of the country as it now stands! After nearly ten years of saving here and saving there, I feel that I must take advantage of the abundance of supplies to see if all has fared well with the Class of 1942. I then shall climb into my brand new, shining car with its new, black tires, with the tank flowing with gasoline, and take leave of my duties in the Art Department of the Boston Herald-Traveler to start on my journey to the far parts of the country to find my classmates. It was while touring Cape Cod that I chanced to find the first of my class- mates, Lorrell Keller, who was shopping in an A P store in Buzzard’s Bay. After much embracing and exchange of greetings, she told me that she had picked her man and now was living comfortably in a little white cottage over- looking the canal with a beautiful view of the Bourne Bridge. Bidding her good- bye, with promises of returning, I continued on my way. Later in the day, I pulled into a spacious gas station and was very much pleased to see Richard Croft emerge from the office. He told me that he was doing a prosperous business — as could easily be seen — and was very happily married. From Dick. I learned that Chet Ignatowitz was still drinking in the sunshine on Waikiki Beach. It seems that after driving the Japs from Hawaii’s shores, he took a liking to his surroundings and the surroundings took a liking to him; so he has taken up permanent quarters there. All along the road I noticed the absence of the Johnson’s signs and the replacement with the name of Hooker. I stopped at one of these advertised stands and was greeted at the door by a charming young lady. Hold on there!

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THE ECHO 11 The next morning found me in Columbus, Ohio, and driving down the main street of this city. Great excitement seemed to be running through the citv. Flags were lining the street, and across the street was stretched a huse sign which read: “A TRUE AND HONEST POLITICIAN. A MAN WHO KEEPS HIS WORD. OUR NEXT MAYOR, PAUL YOUNGHOLM.” My thoughts went back to our class politician, and I entered the headquarters of the candidate to see if by any chance there was a connection. My supposition proved correct, for there, sitting in a spacious office, sat Paul. He jumped up, shook my hand, offered me a chair, and handed me a cigar, all in one move- ment. Good old Paul! He hadn’t changed a bit! He was still keeping in touch with Edwin Paul who has succeeded Earl Carroll in the show business. I had heard of Paul’s Beauties, but had never dreamed that it was our own Buster. Surprises were coming in bunches! But add to that last, Katie Mosesso was one of Buster’s leading dancers of the Rumba and La Conga and was soon to be given a contract by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. I had a long trip to Chicago before me, so I took leave of Paul, wishing him a successful campaign. I arrived in Chicago in time to hear the last act of Tannhauser in which Phylis Wilson was singing the leading part. Later in her dressing room, we greeted each other heartily. We talked of school friends, and Phil told me that I would be interested to know that Shirley Cook was a noted dress designer in Chicago and had personal charge of her ( Phylis’s ) wardrobe. I asked her if she ever heard from Irene Marble to which she replied that Irene and her hus- band were doing very nicely. Her husband is now vice-president of the Coca- Cola Bottling Company, with his office in St. Louis, Missouri. She, in turn, asked me of the whereabouts of Midge Smart and I was glad to give a little information for a change. I related that Midge, too, was married happily to a professor at the great Thayer University and was living in the city of Brain- tree, Massachusetts. The next afternoon found me arriving on the shores of Lake Michigan. Here, without warning, I ran into my old friend, Harold Barton, who owns a fleet of cattle barges making daily runs from Chicago to Racine. He informed me that he saw Shirley Berg once in a while in Racine, where she was employed in the mailing department of a famous cereal company. It is her duty to see that the correct number of box-tops accompanies every letter sent by the chil- dren who listen daily to the daring exploits of Bingwanger Fusilden, the Boy- Wonder. I had planned to have a few hours with Muriel Quincy, so I took immediate leave of Harold and started east. Muriel is married to a Captain in the U. S.-Army Air Corps and is living in a small home on the banks of the Connecticut River. Murr and I sat on her shady porch and talked about old times. I told her of the classmates that I had seen so far. Fortunately, however, my hostess told me that she had heard by means of letters from home, that Ruth Andrew ' and Katherine Chandler were both serving as secretaries to the Secretary of War and Navy respectively and both were doing exceptionally well. I started home- ward at noon, with Murr’s advice to eat dinner at Marjorie Schutt’s sandwich shop. I had no trouble finding this establishment, and I hurried in, anxious to see Marjorie again. Her back w as turned to me, but there was no denying