North Andover High School - Knight Yearbook (North Andover, MA)

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1 9 3 4 YEAR BOOK Little can be said about our second year, the only enlivening incident being the dance we gave to the juniors on St. Patrick’s Day. To be sure, we anticipated and hoped for a return party, but our hopes were not satisfied, due to the depression which seemed to wipe out any financial balance which the juniors might have had. During that year, however, the scholastic standing of our class was noticeably high and this fact is worthy of mention here. The junior year was an outstanding one, scholastically, financially, and athletic¬ ally. Once more we upheld our reputation as a clever class, and it was during this year that the Harvard Club Book, awarded to the boy of the Junior Class whose scholastic average is the highest, was awarded to William Graham. Financially, the pocketbooks were flattened out due to the many expenses in¬ curred during that year, together with the fact that “ole man depression was still hanging on.’’ There were rings to be bought, and gold prices soared, and then there followed the banquet tendered to the seniors. Athletically, the outstanding members on all the teams were members of the Junior Class and it was during this year that the school was the tecipient of several cups for its superior athletic teams. The fourth year was on its way and, as was inevitable, September, 1933 rolled around. “Hats off’’ to the seniors, underclassmen! The class of ’34 was now in the fore¬ ground. The athletic teams were headed by seniors, the honor roll was monopolized by seniors, the student publication was headed by seniors, in fact, everything was carried on and started by us as seniors. We were an all around good class and the many friendships established during our four years were now to be tested by separation—the last get-together being the class supper held on June fourteenth. The largest class ever to have entered Johnson (up to 1930) and the largest class to graduate was now ready to close the gates of this institution of learning and to open the doors of others or to venture out into the ranks of the world, leaving the tasks and duties to be carried on by our lower classmen. Helen Clarenbach Class Prophecy Having just defeated Bill Hodge ten up and eight to go at the North Andover Country Club on this beautiful July morning for the 1954 trophy, emblematic of the Professional Golfers’ Championship of these United States, it flashed upon me that a cold bottle of beer would do me no harm. Trudging wearily up the club house steps I was hardly able to flop into a com¬ fortable wicker chair safe from the clamorous public, when in burst George Holds- worth and Alex Pickles, the demon safety razor salesmen, and boy! what a line of chatter they spilled. After being given the choice of buying two dozen blades or being talked to death I gave in. No sales resistance could withstand those lads. They decided to join me in a drink providing I took care of the checks. Imagine our surprise when in answer to the ring, Steward Arthur Darveau ap¬ peared. It is highly probable that his training in the Chefs’ Club was prominent in 17

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JOHNSON HIGH SCHOOL And climb the crystal wall of the skies, And then again to turn and sink, As if we could slide from its outer brink. Ah! it is not the sea, It is not the sea that sinks and shelves, But ourselves That rock and rise With endless and uneasy motion, Now touching the very skies, Now sinking into the depths of ocean. Ah! if our souls but poise and swing Like the compass in its brazen ring, Ever level and ever true To the toil and task we have to do, We shall sail securely, and safely reach The Fortunate Isles, on whose shining beach The sights we see, and the sounds we hear, Will be those of joy and not of fear! William B. Graham Class History September 3, 1930, marked a new advance in the history of Johnson High School, for there it was that one hundred and three enthusiastic, ambitious, innocent fresh¬ men entered its wide open gates, there to spend four long years in an effort to become learned. Our snooty, sophisticated senior comrades proved to be of little aid to us during our first few weeks. Our attempts to find our assigned rooms were in vain, and we were further misled or overlooked by our schoolmates. The first excitement arrived on the evening of December fifth when the long awaited time, the occasion of the senior reception to the freshmen, arrived. Although it was a rainy, cold evening, this did not dampen the spirit of the freshmen, for each attired in his finest, assembled at eight o’clock to enjoy an evening of dancing and games. I recall that it was well along into the evening before we, a bit bashful before our superiors, dared venture onto that spacious floor—and then all too soon the clock struck eleven and the party was over. The election of officers was held a few weeks later and the seat of honor, the presi¬ dency, went to John Kennedy. The return party to the seniors came and far surpassed anything Johnson had ever known. The amateur playlet exhibited the superb dramatic talent of some of our fellow classmates and as the newspapers would say, “A large number attended and an enjoy¬ able time was had by all.” 16

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JOHNSON HIGH SCHOOL securing for him this important position. Seeing that Pink Ribbon Beer was the cheapest, I ordered three bottles. Following a period of waiting, suspiciously long it seemed, Juliette Auger, the petite waitress, brought the order and perhaps because it’s an old custom for the chef to sample all orders before they are served, each bottle was only half full. Perhaps it would be interesting to note that the paper napkins advertised in bold type “DeNault’s Beer and Pretzel Factory” in Indiana. No doubt the course of chem¬ istry that he took influenced his business. Finally I got rid of Messrs. Pickles and Holdsworth, after they had drunk more beer at my expense, and I closed my eyes in peaceful slumber not even disturbing the country side by sonorous snores, as I was afterwards told. It seemed about five minutes later that I was rudely awakened by some one shak¬ ing me like a terrier shaking a rat. Kenneth Brousseau, of all people, and wanting to go to the Lawrence World Fair. Kenny had just come in from a round of golf with Charlie Andrews, better known as Huck. Kenny, by the way, was enjoying a vacation following his strenuous duties as an instructor of chemistry at Boxford High School and believe it or not, (pardon the ancient history reference) his services were paid for in groceries. Huck wanted to see Phillip Evangelos perform as the star outfielder of the last place Chicago Black Sox baseball team now in Boston instead of going to the fair. It did not matter to me where I went for I was going to sleep there anyway. They argued and tossed a coin and it fell to our lot to attend the fair now and the ball game tomorrow. We boarded one of Stevie Martin’s Transportation Company’s busses for Law¬ rence and reached there after much delay due to the absent-mindedness of the opera¬ tor, Francis Howard, who got half way to Haverhill before he remembered where he was supposed to go. Perhaps it was the back seat driving by his wife, the former Marjorie Andrews, who accompanies him on all his trips, that caused the detour. Finally and safely we arrived at the fair grounds and one of the first signs on an exhibit read Keep warm with our fuel” The Arthur Phillips Coal Company. Looking closer we observed John Pillion as one of the employees and Blanche Downing and Isabelle Fenton as office clerks. Behold the new American custom, the serving of tea (nothing stronger with Miss Downing around) and cakes. From Arthur we learned that Joseph Fitzgerald was a ranking naval officer and Edward Welch headed a nudist colony at Plum Island. We were advised not to miss the vaudeville act on creative art, a feature of the fair, by Florence Syddall, Martha Curley, and Charles Thurlow. Apropos Arthur Phillips, it was interesting to note that at M. I. T. his mathematical genius had un¬ covered a method of determining the exact number of pieces of coal per ton in less than five minutes. Too bad there was no Nobel Prize offered for this type of work. Distinguishable among the babble of many voices from hoarse throated ballyhoo men, came the high pitched nasal tones of William Butterworth Graham from across the grounds, calling attention to his gigantic, stupendous, colossal side show. Being prevailed upon by Kenny, Graham reduced the admission price for our benefit. Please note he did not issue us any passes. 18