Maynard High School - Screech Owl Yearbook (Maynard, MA)

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THE SCREECH OWL 9 Ufa % S ntnrH: You have yet the world before you, Though your years of school are o’er. Slow at first, then fast they travelled; Now you’ve come to Life’s Great Door. Frightened and timid at first you’ll be, Not knowing when or where to turn; But it won’t be long till you’re on your way, For every one must Live and Learn. — C. K, ’37.

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THE HERO It must have been the biggest thing that had ever happened to that little town. To have a handsome face to look at, instead of the customary birth, marriage, and death notices, was cer- tainly a welcome change. The event that made such a deep impression on Plattville was the sudden arrival of a distinguished visitor whose gray-tinged hair made one think of a movie actor and whose pronounced limp only added to his distinction. When he bought a house and became a resident of the town, interest in him waned a bit, since he went out very little. Even Joe, who was hired to help keep the grounds and house neat, knew nothing about him. Stories created by wild imagination circulated freely. Josie, Joe’s wife, insisted that she had sometime seen his picture in the papers. Whenever the mystery man made one of his rare visits to the center of the town, everybody stared. He walked slowly along, limping all the way, his far-off expression showing that he was unaware of the excitement he stirred up. There was no doubt about it ... he was living in the past . . . but what was his past? Curious eyes watched him from across the street, from doorways, from behind lifted curtains, but no one could discover whether he was rich man, poor man, beggar man, or thief. One day Joe galloped into the post- office, fairly bursting with news. His breath came in gasps. The usual gang which hung around there patted him on the back and urged him to tell what the matter was. Finally he panted, “He’s a war hero, that’s what he is.” Then Joe told the story. When he was cleaning and polishing the living room furniture, he noticed a cabinet filled with glittering medals and trophies. When the mystery man caught Joe’s glance, he calmly closed the cabinet door and put the key in his pocket. “I know I’ve seen his picture in the papers, too. He’s been a hero,” Joe finished. Now the town at last paid proper homage to its illustrious citizen, who only smiled absent-mindedly when he was given a dozen honorary positions. His proud manner and his limp became a legend. One day he asked the grocer for credit. Flattered by being treated as an equal by the famous man, that worthy soul gladly allowed him to charge several hundred dollars worth of supplies. Other people were also famed by such attention. Then one day, the town’s first citizen left . . . for good. He died. The whole community attended the funeral. Flags were lowered, stores closed. Joe took the key in nervous fingers and brought out the famous col- lection of medals to display. Great was the shock to the people of Platts- ville when they fixed their eyes on the largest and gaudiest gold disk! On it were the following words: “Presented to , Champion Pastry Cook of Paddington County, 1915-1919.” — John Yanuskiewicz, ‘39. WILL ROGERSI By P. J. O’Brien “Off for somewhere.” That was one of Will Rogers’ last remarks before he met his tragic death