Mansfield High School - Hornet / Green Years Yearbook (Mansfield, MA)

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OD hh. a “- on the jump and I have heard that the shop nets them a fine figure. The car was decidedly convertible, the latest product from the master minds of Gene Britton and Harold Chamberlain of Motor Martyrs, Inc. By pressing various buttons on the intricate dashboard the vehicle could instantly be converted into an autogyro, speed boat, or armored bank car. I was content to roll along in the car’s present form at the post-war speed limit of sixty miles per hour down the Green- Garland ten-lane highway. It seemed rather a fancy name for the road until I realized that it was the project of my classmates, Francis Green and Fred Garland, the ex- marines, who long ago decided that they could improve on Pratt Street. Soliciting the help of Congresswoman Mary Brogna, they procured the funds. Amid cheers and speech making, she turned over the first shovelful of her native soil. Mary has become very efficient at occasions of this sort and plans to run for President’s wife if there is ever a vacancy. We drew up in front of a vine-covered cottage on the edge of extensive flower fields and saw the sign “Henry the Horticulturist.” In the glass office sat Henry Collins typing madly. Since he and his stenographer, Doris Yerbury, have formed a partnership, she refuses to let him dictate to her. They have cultivated so many forget-me-nots together that he has guaranteed her social security. We purchased two dozen orchids to present to Roger Everett at his opening musical performance that evening in the Torture Chamber of the hotel. In his new style of Hot Boogie-Woogie Burnie-Wurnie Maestro Everett hits the keyboard such a wallop that many have declared he has supernatural assistance. All the black keys have been seen to go down at once under his touch while flame shoots from the wires and smoke oozes from the joints. I am one of the very few who know that Roger was always in league with the gremlins. When we arrived at the hotel, cameras were clicking and flashbulbs popping. In the lobby Earl Brown posed proudly, his arm supporting an Egyptian mummy, which he had brought with him from the land of the Nile. Earl has spent many years there, and has become an expert in deciphering hieroglyphics, having gained his experience in reading his own notes in English IV. The hotel manager, Robert Eldridge, dispersed the crowd which was collecting and suggested that the pair transfer to Hobby Lobby. Kathleen Flynn, the dining room hostess, appeared with a megaphone announc- ing that dinner was being served in the main dining room. Kay carries her megaphone with her day and night; thus, she has finally found a way to make herself heard. Two smartly dressed young women crossed the room and we recognized Jean Paton and Cornelia Wondergem, who had just come in on the Pan-American Clipper Ship. Down in Rio the square dances taught by these specialists are outswinging the Conga in popularity. Cornelia and Jean were enthusiastically greeted by representa- tives of The Foxboro Reporter and The Stoughton Sentinel, and an affectionate inter- view followed. As much as I would have liked to look on, I decided to focus my attention upon the unusual murals covering three sides of the room. I knew they were the work of Earl Wright but wondered why one side was left blank. I soon found out that Earl had left to compete in a tennis tournament and had promised to return when he had won the loving cup. That was several years ago and they are still waiting for the (W) right man to come along and finish the job.

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tal supply truck with its load of freshly caught fish donated by Walter Bielan, owner of the Izaac Walton Fish and Chip Shop, rounded the corner with two scraped fenders. At the entrance of the hospital we were greeted by the receptionist, Irene Kalvin, who asked Elsa to take me through the wards. ‘There stood Bill Cross, famous for his animated cartoons, who had been visiting a couple of his monkey models. Bill’s studio, recently redecorated under the supervision of Marion Wirth as a jungle paradise, proved so realistic that the monkeys lost their footing while swinging from the chan- delier and trying to land in the painted foliage. What was my amazement to find the great virtuoso, Rudolph Menga, waiting patiently outside the cat morgue. Upon ques- tioning him, I learned that he manufactured his own violin strings. As I was leaving, who should come tripping in the door but Esther Wirth in the ultra-modern uniform of a carrier pigeon dispatcher! Rushing past, she quickly thrust into my hand the latest edition of The New York Times, just received by pigeon post. Glancing at the headlines, I saw that Stan Inman, detective and F. B. I. man, had just solved the mystery of the missing jewelry lost by the heiress and society woman, Helene Gallipeau. Her collection of tie pins, wings of gold and silver, army and navy insignia, class rings and fraternity pins, worth many hundreds of memories, is surpassed by none. Maurice Tretakoff, clever Philadelphia lawyer, is proceeding with the case. Maurice has just been elected attorney-general. Opportunity always comes to those who work with a WILL. In the literary section I came upon a book review of Kay Reilly’s latest best seller, J Took to the Hills. ‘The book, however, gave no description of the varied greens of summer mountains or the red and yellow of October’s woods—Kay’s favorite Hill was definitely Navy blue. Scanning the list of non-fiction, I was intrigued by the title How The Well-dressed Man May Protect Himself, by Robert Ducharme Patri- quin, the idol of Broadway and Main Street. Davy Jackson had an extensive column on the sports page. I observed he was still speculating on the outcome of the World Series. Davy has just returned from covering the Olympics for The Arkansas Traveler and gives an enthusiastic account of Helen Rockwcod’s success as an athlete. The name of Edward Julian caught my eye. Eddie is well established as coach of the Mermaid Swimming Team at Helen Gegenheimer’s College of Impractical Knowledge for Women. Judging from the picture accompanying the article, I felt sure that Coach Julian was finding his work very pleasant as well as profitable. A new tangerine, plastic convertible with copper trimmings swung smoothly up to the curb. Behind the wheel sat an attractive young woman, dripping with sables and pearls. Amidst this picturesque display of good fortune, I recognized the face of Deborah Sullivan, the copper queen, and ran to greet her. Deborah’s untiring experi- ments with this metal attracted the attention of Secretary of the Treasury, Kenneth Richardson, who urged the government to patent and use her secret formula in the making of currency. It was a long time since we had met. Her wealth being evident, I inquired for her health and learned she still had ‘Foot’ trouble. She urged me to get in and drive with her to the Costly Pleasure. There we could talk and eat in the cozy little hotel coffee shop, run by Rose Cavallo and Mary Leonelli, famous for their shrimp wriggle, cinnamon twist, and milk shakes. This activity keeps them constantly

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Enjoying my meal in the coffee shop, I was startled to hear myself being paged. I hurried to the desk and found a telegram requesting my immediate appearance at the Hicks Clinic. This was signed by Dr. Bruce Bayley, who did not disclose the reason for the unexpected summons. Since he was chief surgeon, I knew that he had inside information. The bulletin board showed no means of transportation available for several hours; so, wishing to appear at my best, I turned my thoughts to one whose attempts to improve on nature have always been so fascinating. Helen Johnson, the beautician, manufactures her own cosmetics and runs an exclusive shop, The Ghastly Masque, just around the corner. Public demands make it necessary for her to keep open day and night. Bidding good-bye to my friends at the hotel, I went quickly to Helen’s shop and was delighted to find that Luella Whitten, the hairdresser most in demand, could take me right away. In true beauty parlor fashion Luella at once began to tell me the latest gossip. Two years ago, Lois Card was bookkeeper at the Gum Drop Glue Company. She adhered strictly to business but the boss, who had a fast hold on her, ‘nally persuaded Lois to marry him. Now she is stuck for life. Luella also informed me that Olive Enman had found employment with the Zipper Snapper Fastener Company and, according to report, had made many interesting connections. Evelyn Eldridge, who started as a social worker, is now in charge of the Henry Street Settlement House in New York City, where she is still popular for her kind and helpful ways. Evelyn has always had a soft spot in her heart for the East Side. Speaking of New York reminded us of the new comedy team whose stiff com- petition has forced the retirement of Edgar Bergen and his Charlie. On stage and radio we hear the dry humor of Earle Buck and the witty come-backs of Martha Hodges. Buckie would like to appear as a ventriloquist, but Martha refuses to sit on his knee, claiming she is no one’s dummy. Phonograph recordings are monopolized by the Victor Company and sold at the entrance of the theater to record-breaking audiences. And who do you suppose is with Ringling Brothers! Eleanor Moscaritolo, because of her speed and accuracy in typing, was chosen by the oicials from many applicants, to type first copies of the programs cf the ever-changing, three-ring shows. Eleanor travels in her own private car. Slightly early for her midnight appointment for a manicure a Ja mode, Edith Boynton appeared and was eager to tell me that she had just leased a room in the west wing of the Congressional Library in Washington, for the practice of Parliamentary Law, which was always so much in evidence at our class meetings at M. H. S. She inquired about my plans and then suggested I share her “‘taxicopter,” which was due to leave the hotel roof at two o’clock in the morning. I was on hand at the appointed time and place, weary from a varied and exciting day. The purr of motors made me drowsy and the glare of reflected lights formed itself into a hazy picture. “There in a large semicircle before me were all my classmates, while in the background floated our banner with the motto—By Faith and Courage.