Miss Halls School - Hallmark Yearbook (Pittsfield, MA)

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NEW YORK CAB DRIVERS Cab drivers compose an imporTanT parT of New York CiTy's popuIaTion. They will never Tail To inTrigue and amuse me. SomeTimes They annoy and oTher Times They fascinaTe me. BuT I always wonder abouT Them - why They have chosen Their profession. and if They are happy. One day abouT Three years ago. I hailed a cab in fronT of my house. I was irrifable. Tired, and lafe for my piano lesson, To which I had no desire To go in The firsT place. A cab drove up, and as I goT in, The driver said in a cheerful Tone of voice. Good afTernoon. Ma'am. IT seemed raTher sTrange'To me ThaT a Taxi driver should be so civil. Living in New York, I had become hardened To Their usual gruff nonchalance. I replied, wiTh a raTher surprised smile. Good afTernoon. and Told him where I was going. The nexT Thing I heard was a compleTe shock. Would you like Tea, coffee. or hoT chocolaTe? Who would expecT To be offered liquid refreshmenf in a New York Taxicab? ForTunaTely I remembered an arTicle in The AMERICAN magazine which I had read a few monThs before. This musT be The man. whose name-since I can'T remember iT-shall be Bill Brown. He had been wriTTen up in This magazine as The mosT courTeous and considerafe cab driver in The ciTy. His refreshmenf sysTem was considered a greaT nerve-sooTher. I asked him. raTher unbelievingly. Are you - THE ONE - in The AMERICAN? Yup, I sure am. he replied, holding up a copy of The AMERICAN magazine opened To The page conTaining The arTicIe abouT him. He smiled, and repeaTed The quesTion he had asked when I firsT goT inTo his cab. Two minuTes laTer. as I saT re- Iaxedly enioying a cup of hoT coffee IwiTh sugar and creaml which had been prepared on a STerno can. I asked whaT had ever prompTed him To sTarT his hoT drink service. He replied ThaT he found ThaT people liked. as he puT iT. To relax in hacks. Ma'am. so why shouIdn'T They have a nice cup of coffee or such while They ride? Also. pas- sengers Iikeza genTeel driver, so why shouldn'T I be ThaT way? Besides. iT's so much easier To be nice Than rude. Ma'am. LisTening To whaT he did noT say, as if reading beTween The lines. I gafhered ThaT he quiTe obviously had discovered ThaT The nicer and more courTeous he was. The larger his Tips would be--an economically sound discovery. We Talked for The remainder of The ride abouT various unimporTanT buT pIeasanT maTTers, and when I goT ouT, having-I mighT add-Tipped him much more Than usual. Bill said, Good-bye. Ma'am. Have a nice day, and God bless you. ThaT remark really resTored my faiTh in human naTure for The day. I have always wished l mighT ride wiTh Bill Brown again, buT I never have. T AnoTher memorable experience I had wiTh a cab driver occurred lasT ChrisT- mas vacaTion. On one of our many cab rides from my home To The BilTmore HoTel, my roommaTe and I realized ThaT There was a melodic sound issuing from The fronT seaT. As The Tune sounded raTher familiar, we asked The driver whaT he was singing. He Turned around. his dark PuerTo Rican face IiT up by an immense grin, and answered. HCONTIGO. You know eeT? I replied ThaT I did as iT was one of my broTher's favorife songs. and asked him please To sing iT To us. He did. By 72nd STreeT, we realized ThaT we had a one-in-a-million driver. By The Time we reached The BilT- more, we had learned ThaT his name was Adrian. ThaT he sang. played The guiTar. and was one Third of a Spanish Treeo. which, I mean-we seeng avery Wednesday nighT on The radeeo. We had somehow acquired a small. raTher grimy card wiTh his name and Telephone number on iT, een case you 'ave a parTy and wanT a Treeo, or a seeng- erI I sTilI have The card. Who knows, some day I may find ThaT I need a Treeo. or a seengerf' Since iT was Then Two days before ChrisTmas, and my roommaTe and I were in a singularly happy frame of mind, we Tipped him one dollar and fiffeen cenTs and wenT Tripping off To The Palm CourT wiTh CONTIGO ringing in our ears. Page 29

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accenf +ha+ she had learned from her boarding school roommafe. She paffed her forehead wifh a delicafe handkerchief. Your husband making you do fhis? pursued fhe spokesman of fhe group. Secrefly flaffered by his fhinking fhaf she was married. No, my fafher says l musf. This fopic of conversafion being exhausfed, fhe second of fhe group. a slighf. buggy-whip of a man glanced around and said. Nice place you gof here. Think if's big enough? Unprepared for fhis one buf recovering herself. Phoebe smiled. lf's really nof as big as if looks from fhe oufside. The rooms are iusf like posfage sfamps. The momenf seemed now fo have come fo suggesf graciously fhaf perhaps fhey would like some nice cold fea. The fhird man, somewhaf older. fhoughf if a swell idea and fhe ofhers nodded in fhirsfy agreemenf. Phoebe fripped off gracefully fowards fhe house. Firsf refreshing herself wifh several squirfs from an afomizer of Chanel No. 22. she gof iced fea from fhe kifchen. and arranged a fray wifh individual doilies and small English fea biscuifs. Tray in hand. ice clinking in crysfal glasses, she sef forfh wifh fhe second parf of her plan. The men. resfing under fhe frees. leaped up, reached for fhe frosfy glasses. and grafefully gulped down fhe cold fea. Phoebe. wifh her crinoline preffily encircling her as she saf on fhe grass, sipped her drink demurely and occasionally nibbled a 'rea biscuif. You go fo school? asked fhe young, good-looking one as he chomped on a cookie. Oh yes, l go away fo school! lfoo enfhusiasfically. she decided, for fhere was a definife silencel. Ain+ fhe high school good enough for you? snapped fhe buggy-whip. Unruffled, Phoebe smiled sweefly. looked sfraighf info his suspicious eyes. and drawled, l'm a liffle slow. you see. Now fhey beamed wifh masculine superiorify and fhe conversafion boomed along as fhey relafed fo Phoebe sfories of fhe Army. of labor froubles. and of women problems. Coolly enjoying herself, she almosl' forgof fhal' she was nof accomplishing her purpose. Wifh a huge sigh Phoebe announced fhaf she musf be gefiing back fo her work. Her brawny friends leaped fo fheir feef. Buf of course fhey would rake fhe gravel for her. Heavens, no! demurred Phoebe coyly buf firmly. Buf liffle by liffle her re- sisfance crumpled, in an endearing way-as she had so carefully planned. Compla- cenfly siffing under fhe frees, idly waving her Chinese fan, Phoebe wafched 'rhem work. Occasionally she would frip info fhe kifchen and appear again wifh Coca-cola fo replenish fheir glasses. The iob was quickly finished. buf before Mario Genivesi. Joe Marciano. and Tony Zambella refurned fo work for The Town of Bedford. fhey had exchanged wifh Phoebe vows of cordial friendship. Phoebe changed her organdy for comforfable blue jeans, spread her beaufy implemenfs on a blankef in fhe shade. and saf down fo awaif fhe refurn of her mofher. The driveway was smoofh and beaufiful and glisfening in fhe sun. When Mrs. Ash- burn refurned, Phoebe was indusfriously polishing her nails. Why, dar-ling, how marvelous! Did you clo fhaf dreamy iob all by yourself- and so quickly? ' Phoebe smiled sweefly. You know, if I really make up my mind fo if. l can do almosf anyfhing . And she wenf righf on polishing her nails. Dail Cameron. l955 Page 25

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Then ?here was Maxie ?he Taxi . This amazing specimen o? cab driverhood was on ?he verge o? suing Eddie Can?or. I was alone on ?his ?rip. which was ?i??y blocks long. I? seemed ?ha? ?he driver had once wri??en a book abou? ?he s?range experiences he had had wi?h various passengers he had driven. Eddie Can?or had s?olen his ma?erial ?o use ?or Maxie ?he Taxi , a s?ory which was ?old in children's books and on records. and which has ne??ed him ?housands o? dollars. For many blocks l heard abou? ?he speeches ?ha? my driver had made in ?ron? o? ?wo ?hou- sand people a? a big ho?el. abou? how he had a righ? ?o his royal?ies ?rom Mr. Can?or. and abou? his plans ?o sue ?ha? ac?or. Wi?h ?he money he planned ?o collec?, he was going ?o leave his na?ive habi?a? o? Brooklyn and go 'ro Europe on ?he QUEEN ELIZABETH. These are jus? ?hree examples o? cab drivers whom l remember. There was also ?he one who had recen?ly come wi?hin abou? ?our minu?es o? having a baby born in his cab, ?he ?a?herly one who convinced me ?ha? l should have a milkshake ra?her ?han a cigare??e. ?he ?ough ?emale driver wi?h dyed red hair. and-.?he so??ly-spoken man wi?h ?he big black mous?ache who ?old me abou? his you?h in Whi?e Russia before ?he Revolu?ion. Mos? drivers have a ?endency ?o seem shy. sullen. or rude. I have ?ound ?ha? in order ?o have a ?airly scin?illa?ing ride. one mus? draw ?he driver ou? o? his shell. And one may 'rhen discover ?ha? New York cabbies are o??en more in- ?eres?ing and amusing ?han ?he average person one meels every day! Alexandra Lukin. l955 THE BONFIRE Crackling brigh? on ?he s?ones O? ?he beach. S?re?ching ?endrils Of s?rong young ?lames. The ?ire ?reads air, aler?. People ?ading In and ou? o? range S?umble ?o arrange ?hemselves In ?he dark shadow O? ?he blaze. Bushes crouch and wai? Under ?rees. Whose valen?ine lace Ou?Iines Decora?e ?he solid sky. Sounds of 'T Plinking gui?ar And mellow voices. O? ?he secre? slap o? wa?er Massaging Rocks and hard sand. The swelling glow A Of ?he enchan?ed circle Reaches ou? To black in?ini?y. Jane Lowry, I 955 Page 30