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

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Editorials An Inquiring Mind ' I ' he greatest wasted resource is the human mind, for no one uses his mind to its fullest extent. Our head shelters millions of brain cells which are the basis for our thoughts and actions, but even the greatest geniuses fall short of making use of this wonderful thing, the human brain. As for you and me, we just labor through life hitting on one or two brain cyinders. Few of us really learn to keep our senses constantly alive to observing the many things going on about us, or to mastering the skill of logical thinking. An interest in everything is what makes living interesting, and wide interests build personality. A mind which never stops asking questions, finding aswers, and fitting them together is the greatest asset a person can have. A person with an inquiring mind can never be bored. The curious per.son watches people and learns by their mistakes. Every new fact, sight, or idea sets the inquiring mind in pursuit of further knowledge. Such a mind expands the world in which one lives, since our world is bounded only by our interests. An inquiring mind will uncover opportunities, make new friends, and lead to a richer and happier life. Do you want an inquiring mind- ' If so remem- ber: Do more than exist; live Do more than touch; feel. Do more than look; observe. Do more than listen; grasp. Do more than hear; understand. Do more than think; ponder. Do more than talk; say something.” Aihi rt CiooDRifn, ' Al ip How Times Do Change Elizabeth, will you please hurry up and get ready,” begged my mother for about the tenth time. Here it is almost nine-thirty and you haven’t even combed your hair yet!” Yes, Mother, I ' m practically there,” I lazily answered. But what’s all the ru.sh about? It’s only a .social I’m going to.” Then as I was poking around in my dre.s.ser sud- denly I found pushed away back in the corner an old battered necklace made of colored spaghetti rings. Why, this was the necklace I had worn to my first .social! Somehow it brought back memo- ries of that first dance and the way the dances used to be. Here I was taking my time getting ready, when as a Freshman, my being on time was a very important thing. Remembering how all the girls always wore their best clothes, planning them weeks in advance, I looked down rather regretfully at my boxy sweater, brown skirt and loafers, the nirrent trend in dress- ing. The most important social events when I first entered high .school were the dances. Every month one was held from 8:00 until 1 1: 0, run by either the junior or senior class and attended by almost every pupil. All the boys asked the girls to dance the first waltz and if you weren’t there for the open- ing you were just left out of things. It wasn’t only a certain few that made everything lively, hut the whole crowd joined in to make fun tor themselves. An important factor tor success was that everyone stayed until the last strains of the music had died a way. However, as most things are subject to change, eventually the socials proved to be no exception. They are no tun anymore .something seems to be lacking. Pupils arrive any time from nine o ' clock on, and the orchestra plays a concert until ten. when a few daring .souls get out on the floor. (After all, I suppose they can’t always start with a ladies’ choice.) Lack of co-operation, poor spirit, and the inditfer ence of a portion of the .school seem to be ruining the dances, which soon may be omitted from our extra curricular activities. I often .stop to wonder why all the pupils don’t get behind their classes, support their dances and make the .socials a pleasure of the present and future rather than something to look back on in reminiscence! Fl l .VBFTH JoNi s. ’ i ’

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Underclass Officers i ifslimeti ' ( RfU( Mr (i,rvin, Ailviset C . ( Treasurer |■rr)l Row. M. Sitllivan, Vr e Ptesuhni, T Knrnanowski. PresiHent; M (VCnnnell, Srrretatv Snphomi ' ies Ixici Row: D. Higgins, Treasurer; Miss Marsden, Adviser Front Row: I. Torppa, Seerttary; R. Oialehto. President; B. Carlson, Vice- President juniors Bjik Row: Mrs. Clair, Advi.ser; R. Spence, Treasurer Front Row: N. Chodynicky, Secretary; C. Mariani, President; V. Nowick, Vice-President ( 20 )

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Lost Date Lindy Harken was all ready to leave when the telephone jangled. It wouldn’t be for her, of course. Indifferently she picked up the receiver. Hello? ’ Her hazel eyes widened. Yes.” Her hands gripped the receiver. ' h ' es, this is Ij ' ndy Harken speaking.” The voice that came over the wire went through her like a pleasant electric shock. Kip Baker’s! Why, he was star quarterback of the football team, practically the leader of the Lincoln High crowd. Calling her! Then she told herself sensibly to be calm. Probably he just wanted to know the geometry assignment for tomorrow. (.onfidently his voice came over the wire. W ' hat was he saying? Did you say a skating party” she stammered. Oh, I’d just love to! When?” Her voice faded. You mean tonight - right away — as soon as I can get ready? Oh, I thought well, you see, I have something else on, sort of. Oh, of course. I’d rather go with you, only well, maybe I can get out of this other thing. I ' ll call you back in a few minutes. Kip! Bye!” She whirled from the phone, checks flusheii, eyes glowing. She dashed into the living room. ' Mother, guess what? she cried wildly. Kip Baker - practically the cutest boy in school has asked me to go out tonight and 1 have to call Mrs. Powell and tell her 1 can’t sit with Rickie tonight.” This young man called you only a few minutes ago?” asked Mrs. Harken. Well yes, but this is important. Mother. Maybe Mrs. Powell’s engagement means a great deal to her, too,” said Mrs. Harken quietly. Other- wi.se she probably wouldn ' t have i ailed you so far ahead.” Oh, Mother! I knew you vouldn’t understand. Just think, of all the girls in Lincoln High, he in- vited me for the skating party!” Mrs. Harken with a hurt look in her eyes said. You do what you think is right” It wasn’t fair. Tears sprang into her eyes. Brush- ing them away, she flung open the directory, stabbed at names and numbers, and dialed. Hello? This is Lindy Harken. I’m sorry, but I’m not able to come tonight after all. It just didn’t seem to work out. I know. But honestly, I can’t manage it. Well — goodbje.” She tumbled the receiver back in its cradle, caught a .sob. There! It was done. Out on the streets of Lincoln snowflakes floated down, softer than whispers. She went down Lin- coln Park, watching the houses, turned in through a .snow-ridged gate. Mrs. Powell opened the door before she had a chance to ring. Oh, I’m .so glad you’re here! I was terribly afraid that perhaps — but I know you wouldn’t let me down, Lindy.” Of course not. Mrs. Powell,” said Lindy, man- aging a smile. Mrs. Powell gave her a quick hug. You’re a darling. I’ve got to rush. My husband’s plane will be in soon and I promised to meet him with the car.” She nodded toward upstairs. Rickie’s all tucked in, asleep 1 hope.” Alone, Lindy sat rigidly, staring at the closed door. Tears were beginning to tremble on her lashes again when a long wail came down the stairs. Two year oM Rickie had wakened. She brought the little boy a drink of water. She was singing, Santa ( laus is cornin’ to town” slightly off key when the door bell whirred downstairs. Peering through the glass door panel to see who was outside, she choked. Kip Baker! It couldn’t be. Her clammy palms skidded on the door knob, as she wrenched at it. Kip stepped in, swept off his skating cap. He looked at her uncertainly. Look, Lindy, I hope you don’t mind my coming here. Your mother told me where you were and I thought .” Hi, man,” Rickie interrupted loudly at the top of the stairs. Hi, yourself. Butch,” he said.