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

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Literary An October ' s Nightmare The sun was setting on one of those cool, clear October days as Martin Garnet, an industrious farmer, was plodding home from a hard day’s work in his fields. Though he longed for that comfortable easy chair beside the fireplace he paused a moment or two to enjoy the beauty of nature which surrounded him. He was spellbound by the beautiful color blendings of the trees. As nightfall approached, Martin, while securing his supply of water for the night, suddenly perceived a streak of light flash in the sky and land in one of his fields. Thinking it a small meteorite of some kind he advanced quickly towards it. It ejected such a bright ray of light that he was compelled to close his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them again the light had disappeared, and wffiat he beheld was terrifying! It did not appear to be a meteorite, but rather an unearthly type of living creature. It was living, for he heard the heavy thumping of a heart. It was of spherical shape with one weird, piercing, green eye at the top, and its color was a pearl-white. Since it weighed approximately thirty pounds and was composed of a jelly-like substance, Martin had a difficult task in bringing it home. Thinking it too late to notify the police of his strange discovery ' , he carefully placed the weird being in his barn for the night. The next morning, completely forgetting about this creature, he was horrified when he read the fol- lowing newspaper article: Five persons were mysteriously murdered last night. Officials were unable to determine the cause. The victim’s arms and legs were torn to shreds, and their eyes . . .” Martin stopped abruptly, for he instantly thought of his eerie discover) ' . Dashing frantically to the old barn he found it gone! Searching everywhere he was unable to detect any trace of the formidable thing. Returning to the barn again he suddenly noticed a piece of parchment in the place where it had been. Picking the paper up nervously, he turned white with fear as he read the following passage in a strange and peculiar handwriting: We, the people of Mars, have been constantly sending soldiers down to earth for the past hundred years in preparation for the invasion which will soon occur. What you saw last night was one of those soldiers. You will completely forget this incident and reveal nothing, for if you do you will only be thought insane. There are others in the same situa- tion as you, so have no fear.” Who knows, dear reader, but that you may be one of those unfortunate individuals! Richard Turner, ’51 Sweet Sixteen The date was December 3, but nobody seemed to realize that it was anything more than just another day except Penny Morris. Even her parents had for- gotten. She could excuse her friends, but not her parents. You see, today was Penny’s sixteenth birth- day, an event which she had waited for all her life, a day which she had thought would be filled with happiness and pleasant memories. But instead of that, nobody besides Penny even remembered it was her birthday, not even Joan, her best friend or Buzz, her one and only. It wasn’t that she had expected much, just a few friendly Happy Birthdays” from the gang, a few cards, a few inexpensive presents, and that gray fleece coat which she had dreamed and prayed her parents would buy her. But now it didn’t look as if she was getting anything from anybody. When she got up that morning her father as usual kissed her affectionately and her mother talked as she did every morning, about nonsensical, meaning- less things. When nothing was said about the birth- day Penny decided they had forgotten, and so she dropped a hint or two. Does anybody know the date?” she began inno- cently. Why yes, dear. It’s December 3,” her mother answered. Is it any special day, I mean holiday or ... or somebody’s birthday?” There it was out! Penny had spoken her piece and if they didn’t remember now, well . . . Her mother thought for a few minutes and then said, No, dear, I ' m sure it’s no holiday and I don’t think it’s anyone’s birthday.” ( 4 )

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Help Wanted Every time our publication goes to press we are confronted with a lack of material. Students and outsiders have that misconstrued idea that the staff of our periodical only should submit material for publication. The writing of a school magazine is not limited to the staff but all members of the student body should take an active part. Although one drop of water does not make a river, every little drop counts. The same is true of our publication; one or two articles do not make up an issue, but if many articles are submitted we are better able to select the best.” Was this editorial written by your present editor? No! It was written by Editor Waino Sjoblom in November, 1928. Today, 22 years later, the same problem is confronting us. Don’t forget that this is not just a staff magazine, but a school magazine. Let’s not leave making up our magazine to the few, but let’s all do our part! Frank Sotrines, ’51 If Maynard High Could Speak Could you imagine what those long, somber cor- ridors and small square rooms of M. H. S. would say if they could speak? Let us journey into the land of pretense and see. As we walk in the front door we hear echoing from every corner a happy humming sound. This startles us for a moment, but then we feel better when we hear a gentle voice say, Hello, you look like a freshman. New class, aren’t you?” Yes, we are.” That’s fine; why don’t we sit down and have a heart-to-heart talk. You know that you are joining a long line of older brothers whose spirit and zest have made me proud to have sheltered them during their years of higher learning. If you are to become one of my numerous classes you must help to uphold the reputation that these classes before you have es- tablished. It is with their cooperation that I have become the ambitious, well-mannered, and respectable high school that I am today. I’m ambitious, not only in one field but in every field. Many of your classmates may excel either in scholastic or in extra-curricular activities, but in order for your class to shine in the future years you must work for a combination of scholastic, athletic, and social talents. In years gone by my athletics have been supported not by small groups, but by the entire student body. My social functions have thrived on the support of all, not just a few faithful friends. Will you con- tinue that tradition? Not only must you work for these characteristics which I have mentioned, but you must also think of my appearance. My corridors and class-rooms have always been kept neat and clean. My former pupils have endeavored to act dignified and keep commotion to a minimum. I like to hear the sound of your voices in my corridors, the happy sound of voices engaged in friendly talk. I like to feel you above me walking with your companions from class to class. But I shiver whenever I hear voices raised in anger or un- necessary outbursts. With your interest at heart, I am happy to watch you observe the rules of courtesy to your classmates and your teachers. Good manners are the mark of the well-educated, well-rounded, so- cially adapted person I want you to be. Please do not let me down now! Make me feel as proud of you as I am of your older brothers who have passed through my corridors since 1916.” Slowly the voice dies away. We tiptoe out, the words lingering in our minds as we resolve to pass along to you what we heard from the spirit of M. H. S. Frank Sotrines, 51 Marie Sawyer, 51 ( 3 )

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At that her father broke in and when he said, Wait a minute, Margaret. Of course, it ' s her birth- day, Penny almost jumped for joy. But her joy was taken back when her father continued, My mother s cousin Lucy celebrates today. I believe she will be 80 . Margaret, you’d better go out and get some- thing nice for her.” Penny could listen to no more, choked back the tears, muttered an excuse, and left for school. They hadn’t remembered. Here she had given them the best years of her life and they couldn’t even remember when her birthday came. They could remember some old lady’s birthday, but not their own daughter’s. Oh, no! Penny’s one consolation was that at least her friends at school would remember. But things were no better at school. She tried the What’s the date?” hint on several of her friends, but to no avail. Buzz, the old faithful, seemed cool all day and didn’t offer to take her to the Hamburger Hive” after school as he usually did every day. She flunked an Algebra test, and was given detention for talking in Study Hall. So this was what it was like to be sixteen! After Penny got out of school she decided to go to the Hamburger Hive” by herself. It was so late nobody would be there and besides she wanted to be alone. She ordered two hamburgers, a coke, and a banana split for a starter and afterwards she ordered a Happy Birthday Cake for herself and ate it piece by piece until she could eat no more, choking on the last piece. By the time the cake was eaten she felt sick. The birthday nobody had remembered, the detention, Buzz’s coolness, and the food had begun to take effect. She trudged home through the snow- laden streets until she came to her own darkened house, black against the bright lights from the other houses. This was the last straw. The least her par- ents could have done was to stay home. Penny opened the door — a shout of Surprise arose and the lights went on. They hadn’t forgotten after all ! They were all there, her mother and father. A cake with Happy Birthday Penny” on it was in a prom- inent place on the table and there were food and presents everywhere, including the gray coat which she had wanted so badly. Penny was so happy and surprised she had to squeeze back tears. Her friends explained everything. They had been planning the party for weeks and nobody was supposed to say any- thing about her birthday so that it would be more of a surprise. And Buzz wasn’t mad; he had been cool because he knew if they got to talking he would spill the beans. The party was in full swing with dancing, games, and especially food. This day which had started out to be a dismal flop turned into a glorious whirl of sunshine, happi- ness and gaiety. Penny was now sweet sixteen and never been . . .” Oops, Buzz is trying to prove I’m a liar. Janice Morgan, ’52 A Change of Heart Janie Marsh’s slumber party was in full swing. The girls were in Janie s bedroom discussing the Christmas formal. Of the five girls, only Janie hadn’t been invited yet. The girls, trying to be helpful, were figuring out whom Janie could go with. Susan was naming boys which the others eliminated in rapid succession. There’s Joe Nolan, Peter Frazer, Johnny Davids, and Bill Carey. They haven’t asked anyone yet.” But Joe’s hair is red and Janie’s gown is pink, so he’s out,” said Linda. And,” continued Marilyn, Pete isn’t too good a dancer. Why he doesn’t know the difference between the dance floor and your toes!” Johnny’s too bashful,” remarked Brenda. You’d have just as much fun with him as if you went with your kid brother. I think he’s even afraid to hold hands with a girl.” Well, that leaves Bill,” said Susan, and he’s too short for Janie.” Oh, dear!” sighed Janie. I gues I’ll just have to sit home with a good book.” Don’t say such a thing, Janie!” exclaimed Linda. You simply can’t miss the formal!” Don’t worry,” said Brenda. We’ll get you there yet.” I could go with Allen,” ventured Janie. After all, he did ask me.” Allen Hill!” exclaimed the girls. Janie, are you out of your mind?” asked Marilyn. That’s a fate worse than death,” added Susan. What’s wrong with Allen? demanded Janie. At least he’s a date, and he is a man.” If you want to call him that,” remarked Brenda. There’s really nothing wrong with him,” said Linda, nothing much. It’s just that he’s so — so — brilliant. What will you two talk about all night? You won’t even be able to talk or understand his language.” And you must admit he isn’t the handsomest male in school,” added Marilyn. Those glasses of his certainly don’t add to his looks.” ( 5 )