Leominster High School - Magnet Yearbook (Leominster, MA)

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ae EX ieee “With my suitcases completely packed, I raced to the station to catch the next train to New ‘York. Heavily laden with bags, I sought a porter. ‘‘Boy, take my—for heaven’s sake—Malcolm Brown! Here, help me with these; I’ve got to catch a train.”’ As the train was pulling out, I scrambled aboard the observation car. ‘Always late, aren’t you?” a voice whispered in my ear. I turned and was confronted by none other than Hattie de Bettincourt. ‘‘Where have you been all my life?’ I trilled. (You see Hattie still had her personality). “Just a hard-working girl,’’ she responded. Two hours later—New York... lights... gaiety! I sought a prosperous-looking hotel, boasting no cockroaches, and strode up to the desk. Lo and behold! There was Robert Casey, the acme of hotel clerks! Luck seemed to follow my footsteps. From him I learned that Mr. and Mrs. Boissoneau were using the birdal suite. However, I was warned not to disturb them. The next day I drew up my plan of attack. After visiting Robert Joslin, the Wall Street Rothschild, I went to see Adrien Mercier and Dominic Ciccolini, the insurance men. I was quite shocked to find that Glenice Pillsbury had charge of a Matrimonial Correspondence Bureau. I had almost finished my work when I stopped at a tavern owned by George Carchidi. His apprentice, Walter Caisse, had gained immense popularity crooning to unsuspecting customers in the tavern. After a long discussion with Bernard Kolb, a regular visitor, I was about to depart when I heard Roberta Cutter “tickling the ivories’ with great gusto. Arriving back at my hotel, I found a telegram awaiting me. After a glance at it, I called my private pilots, Buster Parrot and Leon Mouret. With them I flew to Boston to attend the grad- uation from Portia Law School of Marcella Jancaitas. We were all very much elated to hear she really had graduated. After the commencement exercises I flew west via Albany. While in a cafe there I had hot coffee spilled down my neck by none other than Gwendolyn Edmunds, a waitress in Katherine Goodhue’s Tea Shoppe. As I was returning to the flying field, I heard Angelina Altobelli trying to bluff (always bluffing!) officer George Yule out of a parking ticket. Just before taking off, I turned my pockets inside out and found just enough money to buy a newspaper (Prosperity is still just around that corner.) from Raymond Surrette. In glaring headlines I read of another wild escapade of Arthur Bailey and Mike Iacaboni after they had cut short their vacation at Ossining- on-the-Hudson. As I read on, I found a notice of the annual Farmers’ Convention in Hot Dog, Kentucky, under the direction of Franklin Stout. After a few hours of air sickness, we were in Kentucky. En route to the Convention I found a huge meeting concerning a trip to Iceland in progress. The main candidates at this mass meet- ing were Jesse Hare, Ruth Tuttle, and Ruth Johnson. At the close of the meeting, my pilot and I decided to make the journey to Lock-East, Florida, to attend a beauty contest. Etha Olssen and Doris Quint were the main aspirants. In spite of protests on Doris’ part, the prize went to Etha. Everett Thompson and Ruth Hart were two of the judges. Doris was quite sulky until I promised to talk with the judges. As I left the scene of the beauty contest, I heard three gossipy voices behind me—namely, those of Ellen Gurry, Dorothy Whitney, and Constance Day. They were discussing the latest turn of events in the lives of John Clancy and Mary Gamblin. It seems from what I could hear —although I’m no eavesdropper—that John is still playing around with Ruth Hancock. And Mary, instead of weeping is toying with “le pauvre Eddie Surrette.” While seeking the locality of the convention, I stopped at a house for information. Upon ringing the bell, I was astounded to hear a chorus of tiny voices yodelling, ‘Ma mére, ma mére! Begorra if ’tis not Moike!’”” I was so dumfounded when the door opened and Marie Duval stood there that I turned and fled. Still without information as to the whereabouts of the Kentucky Convention, I found with- out any difficulty the general store. Stroking his tobacco stained beard, peaceably stood Alexander OL

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—— Class December 20. January, 1935. January 15. January-February. March. April. April 25. May. June T. June 14. June 19. Some shuffled; some scurried; others strode; and still others ran. Avenue, Washington, D. C. in the year 1945. 772 935 =e —Christmas vacation. —Seniors elect the following officers: President. Alton Caisse. Vice-President. Marjorie Smith. Secretary. Dominic Ciccolini. Treasurer. Cecile Fife. —Senior Prom! Grand affair! One that we’ll remember for many a year. —Sweeney, Caisse, Finnerty, Kolb, Boissneau do yeoman work on the basketball team. —‘‘Finis coronat opus.” It’s our class motto, folks. How do you like it? —Decided on caps and gowns for graduation. Won’t we all look dignified? —The operetta, ‘“The Mikado,” is given by the High school musical clubs at the Rialto. Seniors: Seaver, Owens, Fielding perform in a creditable manner. Recognition for fine work must be given to the rest of the cast and to Miss Brown and Mr. Kimball. —Track teams contain many Seniors. A new system is being used in base- ball for the first time. Each class is represented by a team and then Coach Broderick selects an all star team to play a short regular season. Interest in baseball is increasing. —Our Senior Play comes through with a bang—A success in every way. Let’s give the credit to E. Bullard, E. Dean, M. Morrill, J. Longo, J. Wheeler, B. Portney, A. Altobelli, D. Whitney, W. Donovan, R. Martin, E. Dormin, W. Vorse, V. David, D. Vigeant, and G. Yule. —Last day at L.H S8:! —The day we’ve been looking forward to for many years has arrived. Grad- uation! The end, tout finis, etc.! Class Prophecy It was Pennsylvania Overhead, emblazoned in electric lights, were the names of Joe Killelea, the new dictator of our democratic U. 8. A. and his old side-kick, Bill Donovan, vice-dictator. Modest Joe, in the meantime, had secluded himself in his palatial office in the White House. He was not a recluse, however, for in his awe-inspiring presence stood three expectant figures. Joe rose to his feet and firmly leaning on his elaborate desk said, ‘It is my wish that the Class of 1935 shall hold a reunion. I want you three to locate our old classmates so that I may invite them to this social gathering. Incidentally I shall pay all expenses.” ‘Mike, you cover all the territory east of the Mississippi. When I say ‘cover,’ I mean an exhaustive sweeping of the entire East. Locate all my old classmates. The more you find, the happier I shall be.” “Manning, I suppose you want to see that girl in Paris again. However, tour throughout Europe and South America, as well as Paris. And ’Vic,’ you will take the territory west of the Mississippi; search every town, village, and city. Now, goodby to all of you and good luck.’’ I returned home, packed my clothes, and was about to depart when I remembered some- thing. I called Joe Zinna, the newspaper editor, to tell him the news of the proposed reunion and asked him to publish it.

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193 5 ae —— Class Seats Despotopulus. After receiving from him the necessary directions, I proceeded directly to the convention. Within two hundred yards of the spot, I heard Lester Heustis’ shrill voice extolling the virtues and merits of Philip Legere, candidate for the office of County Hog-Caller. I recognized Frank Robertson’s horse tied outside, easily indentified by its protruding ribs. Suddenly a telegram was thrust in my hand. “Return to New York at once!’”’—So on my weary way I started. . New York again! World Series at their height! On the teams were Wilfred de Bellefeuille, (still inspired from the grandstands by Marjorie Smith), Alton Caisse, Bernard Sweeney, and Bernard Racine. Then something happened which made it impossible for me to attend the reunion. The plane crashed. I felt a blow. Down! Down! Down! The sweat stood out on my pallid brow. I stopped with a jolt. I had bumped into Marge Johnson. It seemed as if she were torturing me with white-hot irons. Claire Lancey and Virginia Derbey were heaping burning coals on my inanimate corpse and prodding me with a ffiery trident. No, I was not dead! I awoke in the white room of a hospital. Then I fainted again. So ended the tour of eastern United States. Back in Washington, Joe received this report from Cuba: ‘‘As was decided under the plan, I was to cover Europe and South America, gathering news of those who had strayed from their homelands. “T went directly to the Transatlantic Travel Company where I had no trouble interviewing the clerk, Norman Irvine. Outside I hailed a cab, but unfortunately for the driver, Edward Dean, the cab stalled, and he was unable to start it, so that I was forced to take another taxi, driven by his arch-rival, Frank DiNardo. As we drove through the park, I noticed Erwin Myer asleep on a freshly painted bench. Farther on I met Thelma Houston, reclining in a wheel chair and surrounded by a bevy of nurses. I felt heartily sorry for Thelma. The nurses were Claire Bird, Mary Hammare, and Ruth Transue. ‘‘As we drew up at the steamship dock, I saw Clifford Chesborough and Robert Desilets loading freight onto the ship. “After boarding the boat, I ran into classmates thick and fast (not necessarily the class- mates). My room steward was ‘Art’ Lavallee, who helped me get into the upper bunk. The stewardess was Roberta Miller, while Rosario Sarafini was the ship’s captain. I met several members of the creew—Mark O’Toole, Raymond Charron, and Gurdon Powers. They also served as ballast. “At life-boat drill, I was astounded to find, as members of my boat, six old classmates. There were Aubrey Knox and wonders of all wonders he was converted—a minister; Eloise Bullard, who had gained fame writing incomprehensible books; Rachel Martin, the latest rage of the poetical world; Alfred Pratt, the executive of a hair tonic company, even though he was already bald himself; Janet Wheeler and Irene Davis, headed for Paris and a run in the ‘follies’! “The first night out, the orchestra, led by ‘Duke’ Remy and with Bernard Hughes and Gilbert Whitney as two of its members, came out of mothballs to try to play some music. Among its most recent numbers were ‘Fare-thee-well, Annabelle’ and ‘Dinah.’ “The rest of the trip was uneventful except for the fact that Barbara Gurney fell overboard, and we had to stop to recover her. “On my arrival in Liverpool I was surprised to find Henry Perry, a customs’ inspector, chat- ting volubly in French with Jeanette Roberts, Eugene Gagnon, and Regina Letarte. “From there I journeyed to London where I found that Helen Dickson was managing the large hotel where I was to stay. When I asked her what I might do for amusements during my short stay in London, she suggested that I attend the latest stage review, just brought from America, called ‘Golddiggers of 744’. “At the theatre, to my amazement, I found Gardner Drury acting as head usher. He warned 32