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

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1938 YEAR BOOK To Robert Bell, George Henry LaFountain, Junior, better known as “Chu” leaves his Ford and his frequent trips to South Lawrence. Perhaps a bus would be better, boys, or am I wrong? Elfreda Withee bequeaths her modesty to Cecilia Gulanowski. Maybe it’s modesty, but I have my doubts. Frances Debrowski bestows upon Ruth Richardson the honor of making a speech on the night of graduation. Allen Towne, the Houdini of physics lab, wills his ability to make the ex¬ periments click to Ralph Pratt. “You guess at half and then multiply by two,” says Allen. James Hayes, the deep and silent man, gives his reticence to James Shaw, who knows “there is gold in them thar’ silent hills.” Dorothy Richardson leaves her “Everybody’s Aid Bureau” to Nellie Sum¬ mers, who hopes she will be able to help as many juniors as Dorothy did seniors. John Fletcher, hot cha boy of Johnson and points north, east, south, and west, wills his graceful “Big Apple” to Henry Bonney. Don’t bring your brief case, Henry, as the “Big Apple” is a dance. Louise Kennedy leaves her one hundred and one assorted boy frinds for all occasions to Lillian Maker who, I understand, has a few of her own. How about it, Clarky? Philip Howard, the nemesis of Miss McAloon’s peaceableness, bequeaths to Philip Young his uncanny knack of raising that charming fire in her eyes. Rita Roche, golden-voiced “saprani” who did so well over station WLAW, wills her talents to Margaret Keating who really does not need them, as she plays an excellent violin. Diminutive “Pete” Evangelos, our smiling outfielder, endows upon Jimmy Yule his enduring smile. Well you can catch more flies with molasses than with vinegar, eh, boys? Florence Vernile, the Miss South Lawrence of North Andover, wills her successful method of passing notes to Winifred Temple. We are told this can be accomplished under the noses of the faculty if practiced long enough. Lightning Bob Carroll, to Frank Hill, bequeaths his half hour excursion between Room 2 and Room 12. Remember that the shortest distance be¬ tween two points is a straight line, Frank. Myra Stillwell leaves the boiling grey matter between her ears to that up and coming junior, Helen Greenler, who has plenty of what it takes. Laurence Shyne wills Ernest Fionte his indifference to work of any kind, size, shape, or manner. Edna Millward bequeaths her pair of shoes that will positively not make a sound when coming in late upon Mary Peel. Joe Shea bequeaths his abilities of making intricate designs with glass tub¬ ing to Robert Miller, that little cut-up of the junior class. Barbara Hainsworth, the girl of a thousand nicknames, wills her weakness for the stronger sex in general to Irene Byron. Frank Coug hlin, advociferous ambassador from Boxford, leaves his great attributes to his sister, Rosamond, who could get by, if necessary, with her attractiveness. Lily Ackroyd wills her petiteness to Shirley Nussbaum. It’s all right, Lily. Good things come in small packages. 27

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JOHNSON HIGH SCHOOL boy, George Page. Don’t make as much fuss over her as Ralph did, will you, George? “Sunshine” Annette Silverstein leaves her potential smile and her liking for that senior boy to Ruth Curley. Fred Coram with breaking heart, bequeaths his list of telephone numbers to that fortunate junior, George Martin, with the advice, “the blonde is the best.” Martha Curran leaves her way of getting on the best side of a certain phys¬ ics teacher to Sarah Lewis. John Dilendik leaves his well thumbed booklet, “One Thousand Ways to Fame and Fortune” to the junior class. Catherine Lefebvre endows her morning rides to school right to the front door (incidentally this is to be taken literally) of our institution to Mary McCallion who is perhaps not so fortunate. Stanley Buturlia leaves his kerosene lamp with which he burns the mid¬ night oil in collaboration with other pupils on overdue assignment papers to William Driscoll. Dorothy Sutton wills her method of studying hard without getting thin to Barbara Dillon to whom this information might be helpful. Edward Clarenbach bequeaths his ability of being able to fall asleep in any conceivable position or under any conditions to Charles Gillespie. Try going to bed nights, Charlie. Veronica Fitzgerald leaves Frances McRobbie her basketball abilities and her most delightful, entrancing and all-the-other-adjectives-that-describe-her figure in an evening dress. Tom Sullivan to Tom Pendlebury, the honor of being class president, his position in sports, and the thousand and one other accomplishments, one of which is: how one should be quiet. OH YEAH!! Rosealice Hargreaves to Helen McEvoy that certain demureness that seems characteristic of the vicinity of Stevens Corner. Herbert “Bud” Barwell, the woman hater, (or I may be wrong) leaves his Clark Gable characteristics to that enormous lad, Gerald Calahan. Bud tells me to tell Cal to keep away from Elm Street. Helen Waters, our new senior, leaves her glorious goldy locks and her beautiful blue eyes to Hilda Binns who has plenty to spare. Robert Binns wills to Kenneth Dill his conduct approval slip and his de¬ cidedly uncomfortable seat in Physics IV. Here’s hoping you enjoy it as much as he didn’t, Ken. Mary Gray leaves her oratorical ability to the pale people’s aid, The Plunk- et Pink Pills’ girl, Ruth Derby. Clayton Kennedy bestows his method of doing other pupils’ homework to Sam Turner. One good turn deserves another, Sam. Hazel Blanch, our peachy looking dramatic star, leaves Virginia Carvell the answer to the question, “Who won the war?” Hazel Winning gives to Veronica Peterson her long ride down Salem St. to get to our dear Johnson. John Welch bestows his fiery temper upon Francis Nutter, who doesn’t need it but who may be able to take better care of it than someone else. Elizabeth Walker leaves her front seat in Room 8 to Lois Pitkin who will just love to raise the curtains every morning at the beginning of school. 26

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JOHNSON HIGH SCHOOL Russ Donnelly, the boy with the beautiful pair of legs, endows his captain¬ cy of the baseball nine to any junior who is able to exhibit a pair of legs like those of Russ. Auditions next Monday. Dot Atkinson leaves her pamphlet entitled, “How not to Drive an Auto¬ mobile” or “How One Should Back a Car Off a Nice Lawn Without Being Embarrassed” to Genevieve Kane. Tom McGrail wills this and that to Edward Garvey. Tom says to Ed, “An education never helped a fly to walk on a ceiling.” Stella Mazurenko le aves her Dodge truck to any junior girl being able to change a flat tire on a rainy night on a dark road in the middle of winter. Anna Lorenzo leaves to Helen Murphy, the reputation of not being heard from often but when heard from, giving an excellent recitation. Balbina Mandry to Ida Narushof, her delight in seeing Mr. Donovan enter the room in which that extraordinary class, English IV-I meets. Milton Howard, that tempting triple tonguer of the Johnson High School’s trio of trumpets, leaves to his under-studies, Bill Amshey and Phyllis Killam, the manful art of how to get out nights with the trumpet as an excuse. Too bad you don’t play a piccolo, Bud, you could put that in your pocket. Lillian Robertson leaves that half torrid smile of hers to Barbara Mac- Pherson. Just a little more added to what you’ve got makes a lot more, eh Mac? Wes Randall, swing pianist, wills his propensities to Ernest Viger the mouth organist. Lest the connection be lost it is just a case of hand to mouth. Elizabeth Windle bequeaths her happy-go-lucky nature and charming smile to Helen Richard. Robert Young, jokester superlative, leaves his talents as well as the im¬ plements of the trade to Robert Ayer. “Pete” says that when he goes to work he will have to be more serious. Oh Yeah! Ed Cunningham wills his successful cure for insomnia to Thomas McCub- bin. This cure is forty-five minutes in an economics class. To Claire Doherty, Helen McEvoy wills her commuting boy friend. Don’t worry, Claire, fox if they will come from as far as Matt comes, love must be grand, even though he doesn’t see you every recess. Last, but it doesn’t mean a thing, Eleanor Parker leaves her dandy Fleisch- man’s Yeast complexion (or is it cosmetics) to Virginia Woodhouse. We, the graduating class of 1938 (we hope,) having placed upon the backs of our most worthy colleagues, the class of 1939 (they hope,) about every¬ thing but the shirts on our backs, do hereby affix our signatures with tears in our eyes, trembling hands and second-hand fountain pens, this seventh day of June in the year of Our Lord one thousand nine hundred and thirty-eight. Signed, in behalf of the Class of 1938, FREEMAN C. HATCH, III. o CLASS PROPHECY NE DAY IN AUGUST, in the year of our Lord, one thousand nine hundred and fifty, I was spending a very strenuous day, leaning on a shovel on project No. 9664, of the local W. P. A. As I stood there, I suddenly made up my mind to resign. Besides, I was getting blisters on my elbows from leaning on the shovel, and was wearing out too many pairs of pants sitting down, so 1 woke up the boss who happened to be Robert Carroll and told him I was quitting. He just yawned, rolled over, and went back to 28