Milton Academy - Yearbook (Milton, MA)

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I-'irst Roux' Ames, W.. Benfneld, Chace, j., Fuller, D. Serum! Row: Woods, Foster, Cooper, Lewis '1'lJirrl Roux' O'Connor, Bancroft, Mr. Sturges, Mr. Glazehrook, Chaco, M., Walcott. Fourth Row. Meigs, Sturges, Keyes, R., Churchill, Howard, Miller, J., Zamecnik. he Walk- Rick Howard. -qi. .',,,,

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K9Y95 and H01C0mb- Coffee and the Duncans at Mr. Torney's The fall of the year brought the soccer season, and the team's roster included such luminaries as Dave Wheatland, Chris Kaiser, and Harry Holcomb. Kai and Wheatie, our watertight defense, sprang few but notable leaks, and both stormed through to earn berths on the basketball team. They provided two of the few oases of hope in an unfortunate season. Wolcott House fostered the wrestling team, con- tributing Captain Sam Taylor, Tim Clark, Tony Gaenslen, and Mike Hapless Henderson, our most not- able casualty of the year. But the prominent bent of personality in Wolcott House this year labored in the cultural. Conspicuous intellectual triumphs illuminated our meteoric careers like smudge pots. With minor improvements on the imperfections of the Great Bard, William 1 Bill l Shakespeare, the Wolcott Players broke with hackneyed tradition to spirit away the coveted Christmas skit prize from the very clutches of Robbins House. With a courageous and novel interpretation of Macbeth, Act IV, Scene 1, we overwhelmed our startled audience, faculty as well as students. We were terrihc. The horizon of our in- terests extended in other directions. jonathan Swett, our amphibious Anglophile, spearheaded a gallant literary renaissance as head of the Lit, abetted by the fertile imagination of Nones Gaenslen and his dead cat. The Chess Club plunged to new levels of confusion and despair under the able leadership of Tim I Forgot Clark. An unprecedented schedule of three interscholastic matches was set and unfortunately forgotten, which circumstances caused VP Henderson to throw in the towel. George Keyes found vent for a great interest in history by enhancing the Historical Society with it, and by promulgating his theo- ries on creeping socialism. Tim Clark, of Chess Club fame, fared better as a debater, a field in which his memory was surpassed only by his eloquence. Tony Gaenslen, on the other hand, spent an arduous season searching for his first win. Sandy Greene passed an edifying year in the bilge of the Nautical So- ciety. Like Sandy, Harry Holcomb was a hand before the mast in the society, as well as being one on a merchantman off the Canadian coast. When not otherwise occupied with the New Deal, George Keyes would spend his weekends hopefully shortening chains and lengthening brake rods on his antique fire engine. Harry Holcomb, on the other hand, tackled a less spectacular, but more reliable, Model A. His pursuits, however, spread beyond the narrow scope of the mystery of self-propulsion to encompass the an- cient science of timekeeping. The punctuality of the Chapel bell, Wolcott House, and George Keyes were all regulated by Harry. Chris Kaiser and Dave Wheatland were the uninhibited among us. Although Chris could not quite match Wheaties for pure passionate fervor, he made up for it with his unparalleled wardrobe and radical hair style. N.B. fNevergiveupthe Battlefield? Greene, by-product of the Revolu- tionary general, disgusted his fellows by consistently aceing physics exams, math exams, and poker sessions. The short-wave bands fairly teemed with Messages of Urgency and Importance as Mike Hen- derson communicated with the natives of far-off Dedham and exotic Braintree. Jonathan Swett stalked the trail of Truth and Knowledge, driven by an inner thirst for learning and his faithful cup of instant coffee. Not only was Sam Taylor, our house Monitor, trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave and clean, but he was also reverent. Need we say more?

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Four decidedly timid and definitely eager fourth classmen entered Upton House in the fall of 1955, completely unaware of the trials they would have to meet in a decidedly Sturgean atmosphere. In the past four years the number has increased to six, and none of us has yet regretted his experience. The first impression we received of Upton House was the gently rocking motion induced by a stiff wind, usually a northeaster. By the time Cokey had been hung out the third story window by his heels, and the third class had attempted to assert its dubious power, we knew we had to cope with other than scholastic problems. We recall the great laundry riot, Katherine's bout with the milk cartons, and trying to defy Mr. Wells' sharp ears at six A.M. The third class was one of general chaos as Bancroft joined us. It is doubtful whether we established a new record, but the final toll was: two closet doors fdemolishedjg one plate glass window fshatteredlg several dozen oranges C rotted under floorboards and certain chairsbg bounds ffor all of uslg the plague hit, and Ben became a celebrated Falstaff. All this plus loud radios and tiger cheese apparently drove Mr. Wells to matrimony. A relative calm followed the storm as Fred joined us in the second class. This was the year of sun- bathing at exam time, the Upton House golf links, and Rick's hot Stude. But not to be forgotten was the very successful softball season and the league championship. Cokey took up the guitar and sports cars in hi-fig Fred got a cork for Christmas, and Nick and Mike drove the first class nuts by discussing philosophy until all hours. And this year the Friday teas came into importance as an instrument in controlling the masses of Robbins House, and we generally made its common room ours after supper. But perhaps we have presented the wrong side of the situation. For we have come away from Upton House, not with a feeling of boys who have raised hell for four years, but with a deep respect for the house, the school, and the masters who have taught us here. - We especially wish to thank Mr. Sturges for his help. In and around the house we learned to ap- preciate his sense of simplicity and straightforwardness, accompanied by a clever wit. Whether it was by a simple admonition or a warning against spreading ourselves too thin, Mr. Sturges was always there. Mr. Glazebrook's stay here has also been a great asset to the house. He has not only aided us academically, but has also provided us with many amusing moments which will not soon be forgotten. Upon judging the evidence, there is only one logical conclusion we can come to: that is . . . even though it is the smallest house on the campus, Upton House is the best! Mr. Glazebrook arrives for breakfast. Returning to the house after softball