Lyman Hall High school - Singer Chronicle Yearbook (Wallingford, CT)

Page 31 text:

The Class Will Be it known to all past and present inmates of the Lyman Ilall High School that we, the class of '43, form this, our last official will and testament, being of sound mind (to all outward appearances) and of spirit undaunted by four years of constant grilling. We do hereby render the following bequests, hoping that in so doing we may still retain the unchallenged positions upon the pedestals which we have supposedly held during this year of questionable grace. To the seniors we bequeath the sacred and unscarred halls of dear old Lyman Hall and a smiling face for each day, be it rain or shine. To the Class of ’45, who are anxiously waiting to join the ranks of the early risers, we bequeath pictures of men, in case they have forgotten how they look. To those timid ones, who will graduate (we hope) in the far distant year of 1946, we bequeath any old tricks we have practiced and also our wonderful gift of gab” to make them feel at home. To the incoming freshmen, who will have to face the cruel, cruel world, we leave every hope and aim that we have ever expressed or thought. They'll need them! To Mr. Curtis and Mr. Shultz we bequeath the sound of our echoing footsteps to be recorded for the victrola, so that they will not miss us too much. To Miss Clark, our illustrious Dean of Girls, we bequeath a megaphone so that her quiet but audible voice may be appreciated by the future students. To all teachers we do bequeath, with the permission of Miss Dunlap and Mr. Hall, a bit of humor to start the day with a smile. To Mr. Patten we bequeath a safety razor (although they are rationed) to shave the whiskers off his jokes and use them over again, for we have enjoyed them as much as former seniors. To Miss Boardman we bequeath a Western Union messenger to deliver all the little notes which she is so fond of writing. To Mr. Torrey, one of Uncle Sam’s defense workers, we bequeath a lunch hour so that his lunch period won’t interfere with any of his classes. To Miss Mitchell we bequeath a fresh group of seniors in hopes that her English classes may provide a year of pleasure. To all other members of the faculty we leave a staunch and sturdy backbone, for they’ll need it judging from the reports of our crystal ball. The Chronicle 1943 27

Page 30 text:

Suddenly red spots In-nan to appear on some of us. They turned out to Ik- German measles. In a short time we all had an extra week’s vacation- indoors. Carolyn Brockett holds the championship, with three times to her credit. Tryouts for the Senior Play were then held, and to our surprise came Cynthia with a Southern accent. The play presented was a comedy, “Ever Since Eve,” and we had never seen anything so enjoyable since the Junior Plays. There was a great deal of enthusiasm throughout the class, and the various committees worked very hard to make this play the best ever produced. Their efforts were rewarded as the play was a complete success. Janet Matz anil Angus Rees in the leads, did a splendid job, and laurels are to be presented to all the rest of the cast, as they helped make this event one of the most successful of our senior year. Moron jokes then became the rage. Everyone went around asking Dili you hear about the moron—who put a chair in his coffin so his rigor mortis could set in? or “who took a bus home but his father made him take it back?” This sort of thing was Barbara ”s specialty, and she told them in a way that would put Red Skelton to shame. The Victory Corps made quite a change in our schedule. Every day a different class was skipped to make room for our Victory Corps period. Radio held the interest of most of the students, and radio code, with its dots and dashes, began to mean more to us than just a series of long and short sounds. Other courses offered were fundamentals of radio, photography, home nursing, nutrition, automotive mechanics, blueprint reading and shop for girls, pre-flight aeronautics, typing, anil correspondence for the armed forees. These courses were offered primarily to give the boys pre-induction training that would qualify them for the particular branch of the armed forces they desired to enter. They are of value to the girls also, who are being called upon to take the places of men in essential war industries, and possibly later on to serve in one of the women’s auxiliaries. The girls were started thinking along these lines by a smartly uniformed W. A. A. C., Margaret Dringoli, who spoke to the members of the Girls’ League on the life of a private in the Women’s Army. The beginning of the new year found our sociology classes with a new subject for debate. “Should or should not a high-school boy Ik drafted before the completion of his high-school career?” Congress settled our differences of opinion by passing a hill which approved the drafting of boys in the eighteen and nineteen year age group. Shortly after the passing of this bill, several of the boys from our Senior Class were inducted into the Army. From then until now. enlistments and inductions have taken a large number of our boys, and Lyman Hall is represented in most of the branches of the armed forces. This is the first time in the history of the high schools that the boys have been called upon to serve their country before the completion of their senior year. We are sorry that all of them cannot be here for graduation, but we are more than proud of them, and we feel sure that wherever they are, they are doing their job to the best of their ability, and they will keep doing it until Victory. To these boys we say, “Good luck, keep 'em flying, keep ’em rolling, and fight for America.” We have reached the end of our high-school careers, and as we say goodby to schoolmates and faculty, we suddenly realize that this is not the end but the beginning, a new chapter that these four years at Lyman Hall have prepared us for—The Great Adventure—and we won’t forget—Success and Victory, Hand in Hand. Edith Sassi Irma Dringoli The Chronicle 1943 20

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Now some of our students wish to bequeath some personal gifts to benefit the lucky receivers, who will no doubt need them in the trying years to follow. I, Barbara Wooding, bequeath my ever increasing devotion to chemistry to anyone looking for something to love. I, Nancy Young, bequeath my position as president of the Student Council to any girl with enough nerve and knees strong enough to stand on the stage during an assembly and speak a few encouraging words to the speaker. I, Dan Haeku bequeath to any person interested in a car, my jalopy, provided he has enough money for a new starter, if he hasn’t just enough nerve to park it on a hill every time he expects to run it. We, Helen McNulty, Betty Whitty, and Corinne Allaire, bequeath to any three girls our positions as loyal friends through thick and thin. I, Angus Rees, bequeath to Welles Tooke my title of best-dressed boy, even though he doesn't need it. I, Connie Tooke, bequeath my moron jokes and my horsing around to Bette Emerson, who has proved her ability to “keep ’em smilin' I. Chuck Barboni, bequeath my cornet to any fellow who can cherish and keep it as I have. I, Martin Brody, do leave a bottle of the “sliekem” I use on my hair to Ed Cremo in hopes that he may keep his wavy locks in place. I. Harold Crump, bequeath my early morning jam session to Ruth Gifford in the hope that she can awake the students as I did. I. Edith Sassi, bequeath my position of treasurer of the Girls' League to Jeanie Xicol, who shows signs of being a great mathematician. We, Mary Mushinsky and Shirlee Keddy, bequeath our height to Lillian Glenn and Sue Laydon and wish them luck with their stretching exercises. I. Katherine ('lark, bequeath my never-ending tendency to be like Einstein to Naomi Krol, who shows great promise of becoming another genius. We, Bob Germain and Jane Baekes, bequeath our shoes to any students having trouble finding shoes large enough to fit them. The Chronicle 1943 £8