Leavenworth High School - Tech Liber Yearbook (Waterbury, CT)

Page 74 text:

CLASS NIGHT ORATION The Street Called Straight Almost everybody has heard a class night orationg in fact, almost everybody has Written a class night oration. You will pardon me, there- fore, if I come before you tonight under false colors to speak of traffic from a schoolboy's point of view. Before you came to this assembly tonight, it was necessary for you to travel through traffic. whether that of motor vehicles, or of trolley cars, or of pedestrians. I am content to leave a discussion of such traffic to the constituted authorities. I want to talk about traffic on the Street Called Straight. On the Street Called Straight, it is not neces- sary to have a pocket manual of traffic regula- tions for traveling. Now I shouldn't have you think for one minute that the highway I have in mind is a short one. Not at all, it's a very long oneg it's a very old one. It has been from the beginning of things and will be until the end, for the Street Called Straight extends from eternity to eternity. It has probably the most dense traffic of any road in the Universe, for it Page Sixty-eight is seething with human beings. There is just one good traffic rule on the Street Called Straight, which is a part of the Road to Lif'e : When you meet temptation, turn to the right. There can be no left turns on this highway. Such turns are against all rules of life, for right is right and wrong is wrong. When you travel on the Street Called Straight, disregard the wrong signs and keep to the right. Well, here we are at a cross-road. To the right is a sign-post that says, Today's Duties , at the left, another sign-post that says, Forget Today's Duties. Let's keep to the right. Those who have been on the road longer than I, have told me that the left-hand turn in this case is a bad one that leads to a dreary no-man's land. The great secret that makes life easy is to do each duty every day. You all know how it is when you are traveling through a strange country-how easy it is to lose your bearings. Well, this Street Called Straight is a strange, uncharted route for most of us. Here We are at another cross-road. The

Page 73 text:

-is g g I, Harold Hanlon, bequeath to James Shee- han, the ton weight with which my feet are loaded. I, Patsy Jamele, bequeath to Frank Bares, my exalted distinction of head chemist of the seniors. I, Warren Lewis, bequeath to Dimitry Ksenych, my passionate and uncontrollable desire to speak in public. I, Anthony Mangini, bequeath to Franklin Taylor, my distinction of heavyweight cham- pion of the seniors. I, Joseph May, bequeath to Vincent Simons, the smile that won't come off. I, Herbert Moran, bequeath to Michael Ver- bickas, the big noise of the senior class. I, James Nash, bequeath to Harold Healey, the formula of attending school as little as possible, and getting away with it. I, Alice O'Brien, bequeath to Violet Sagen- dorf, the office of loud speaker of the se- nior class. I, Vincent Plotas, bequeath to George Stein- mann, the ofiice of senior band-master. I, Elizabeth Pukas, bequeath to Evelyn Smith, the office of news girl of Room 305. I, Jane Ranando, bequeath to Doris Mack, all the duties of second loud speaker of the class. I, Ernest Reid, bequeath to Harry Tracy, the thankless job, and yet the great honor, of the senior class presidency. I, Herbert Roberge, bequeath to Clarence Balanda, the secret of how to become famous by playing basketball, but not on the Leaven- Worth team. I, Cyril Rochon, bequeath to Raymond Kasi- das, the knowledge of how to become sheik of the seniors. I, Elsie Schneider, bequeath to Evelyn Smith, the empty money bags of the seniors. I, Robert Schneider, bequeath to Julius Nedo, that famous descendant of the Great Julius of Roman fame, my expert know- ledge of gunning. Finally, we, the members of the Class of 1926, bequeath to Alma Mater, its teach- ers and students, our lasting friendship and respect. In Witness whereof, we have hereunto subscribed our names, the twenty- third day of June, in the year of our Lord, one thousand nine hundred and twenty six. Huston Francis Carolan. Page Sixty-seven sf? B95

Page 75 text:

in sign-post on the right hand says, Be Happy : that on the left says, Curse Happiness. Let's keep to the right. They tell me that those who bring sunshine into the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves. Seek out the good in every man, And speak of all the best ye cang Then will all men speak well of thee And say how kind of heart ye be. To have a friend, be one. I am just reading a few more of the sign-posts I have seen along the way. This road leads to Success The one on the left will take you to a Soft Snap. Let's keep to the right and tackle all the hard jobs first. The easy ones have a tendency to settle them- selves. Never mind what other people say. The man who really does his best is a success whether or not the world thinks so. Now I don't know whether I can qualify as a traffic-expert or not. I haven't been very far on the road as yet. I am giving you the benefit of the experiences I have had so far. I'm sure of this thing, that a good traffic rule on the Road of Life is this: When you meet temptation, turn to the right. You had better pocket this in your hearts for fear you may forget it. Lest you should forget it,see that your compass is in good working-order. That compass is the still, small voice called Conscience This is just a little traffic-talk, my friends, in this day of safety first. I'm a pedestrian on the Street Called Straight, and I think it is dangerous to take chances. I've traveled a little way, and I hope to travel much more. If you happen to meet me on the highway, you can be assured that I shall attempt no jay-walking. You will find me following the signs all along the wayg that is, the signs on the right. This is the way in which we learn to go through traffic at Leavenworth High School. We think that if many more had such traffic rules our trafic forces would not have to be as large as they are today in directing streams of humanity on the Street Called Straight. Harold Patrick Hanlon. Page Sixty-nine