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

Page 28 text:

J OHNSON HIGH SCH OOL The executive branch of our government attempted to establish itself more firmly in the esteem of those whom it ruled over by suggesting a weenie roast. The event promised to be a tremendous success and we were not dis¬ appointed. 1 hen the class of ’39 went seriously to work, and for many weeks poured all of its energies into one channel, namely that of preparing a truly unforget- able play to be presented at the annual Stunt Night. In spite of this great in¬ dustry, however, the event nearly perished, for those in charge of the pro¬ duction took a sudden dislike to it and tore up the script. All seemed lost. Those in charge were terror stricken. However, it is at times like these that truly great genius manifests itself, and out of this chaos arose an obscure hero who provided us not only with a play, but with such a play that it carried away all the honors in what must surely have been an unprecedented blaze of glory. Hardly had we gotten over the prolonged after effects of Stunt Night when we found ourselves preparing for the Junior-Senior Banquet. That event was a fitting culmination of a year of dazzling social, athletic, and scholastic activ¬ ity, and we withdrew from school life for the summer, filled with eager antic¬ ipation of our fourth and final year. According to the usual procedure, we began that year with an election of officers, or more aptly a re-election, for the administration of the past year suffered no change. For the sake of variety, however, certain officials insti¬ tuted a demerit system for the punishment of culprits, which made us feel grateful that we were above the violations of discipline which became punish¬ able under the new order. Blissfully aloof from demerits, the class undertook to repeat the historic weenie roast of the previous year. However, history became stubborn and refused to repeat. By the time the necessary preparations had been made, bitter cold weather had set in, and although some hardy adventurers staged the event notwithstanding, even these were driven home before too many cases of frostbite were reported. Nevertheless it was not in vain that we labored for this frigid event, for it vividly demonstrated that mid-November is not always the finest season for holding outdoor social functions. We, the class of ’39, do sincerely hope that the graduating classes of Johnson High will profit by our experience. In one instance at least, history did repeat itself. This repitition occurred at that function known as Stunt Night. Wishing to uphold the honor of the class, we again applied all our energies to the production of a suitable stunt, with the result that we again carried away the traditional prize in the face of what we considered negligible opposition. This event occurred so recently that its historic significance has not yet been generally recognized. Like certain other masterpieces, it will probably have its age of glory a century or two hence. However it is not the purpose of this writer to predict the future. He can only say that it is his sincere belief, if a historian may be permitted to have a belief, that whatever the future may hold for the class of ’39, we shall always cherish its many fond memories of four truly happy years at Johnson High. ROBERT E. MILLER 24

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1 9 3 9 YEAR BO O K CLASS HISTORY HE year that the never-to-be-forgotten class of ’39 invaded this institu¬ tion for the first time was a year characterized by still another invasion. This occurred within the confines of the very faculty itself, for that memorable year saw the annexation of no less than four new teachers, as well as the potential alumni which we, the Class of ’39, now represent. Having acquired a vague knowledge of the whereabouts of the various classrooms, the class called itself into secret session and undertook to elect certain ones of its members to the various offices attending so fine an organ¬ ization. The presidential campaign was won by Robert Ayer, and upon his shoulders fell the burden of guiding us through a turbulent year. Politics went still farther with the election of other worthy members of the class to that governing body known as the Student Council. Being in the minority, however, we cannot take too much of the credit for the efficient administration which followed. Social life began with a party tendered us by the seniors. In preparation, we felt obliged to practice diligently for many weeks the Terpsichorean art. We know that the seniors were not disappointed. Custom demanded a return party and, having little desire to break the pre¬ cedent, we spared no energy in making the said event an outstanding success. With the gradual passage of time it became apparent that our scholastic achievements were of sufficiently high quality to win us a promotion into the home rooms inhabited by the sophomores. Our president having previously decided to resign from public life, we cast ballots and elected one Charles Foster to the presidential office for our soph¬ omore year. Foster’s administration was entirely free from political insur¬ rection, but during his reign there occurred a most startling revolution of an¬ other kind; a revolution that originated in the plane geometry class and threatened to spread to all other branches of the mystical science of mathe¬ matics. It happened that an aspiring mathematician who is currently occupied in writing a will, made the astounding discovery that a triangle is no longer blessed with its traditional three sides, but due to unstable economic condi¬ tions or some other interesting reason, has been reduced in value to two sides and a bottom. Many of us recovered from the shock of hearing this in time to attend the Sophomore-Junior Dance, which was held many weeks there¬ after. The rest of us are still somewhat dazed. The remainder of the year passed with most of us aspiring- to the highly exalted rank of “junior,” and most of us realizing our aspirations. The following September, therefore, confronted us once more with the problem of electing a president and other useful officers to guide us through the year set aside for the purchase of class rings. When the result of the ballot counting was made known, we found ourselves under the guiding hand of one Thomas Pendlebury. The more dignified title of “junior” which we now wore qualified us to increase our quota of members in the Student Coun¬ cil, and we at last found our own representatives in the majority and largely responsible for the administration, which continued to show great efficiency and ability. 23

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1 9 39 YEAR BOOK CLASS WILL cranium, here on this sixth day of June bequeath to the well deserving Juniors the answer of how to get along with the sweat of the teachers’ brows. Petition Pete Amshey donates muscles in his toes from hiking to the homes of his various girl friends, to Plarry Bunker. Virginia Woodhouse leaves her Mae West figure to Elsie Lundquist. Romeo Robert Ayer leaves his unfinished romance to Turk Giragosian. Ruth Whittaker leaves her charm to Lillian Polichnowski. Arthur Banker leaves his athletic ability to Alexander Hay. Nellie Summers leaves Grants’ special robin-red nail polish to Rita Camire. Henry Bonnie leaves his ability to growl in the faces of the teachers to John Lamprey, who is seen but seldom heard. Betty Roberts leaves her motto, “It isn’t late until twelve and then it’s still early,” to Mary Carey. Kenneth Brierley leaves his Robert Taylor profile to Richard Smith. Ruth Richardson leaves her cheerfulness to Hazel Morse. Gerald Callahan leaves a few pounds of extra luggage to Joseph Flanagan, and his size fourteen shoes to William Donahue. Barbara McHale leaves her petiteness to Frances Martin, and her skill at jiving to Lottie Huminick. John Campbell leaves his masculine build to John Casserly. Frances McRobbie leaves her aptitude for capturing hearts to Eva Hoel. Kenneth Dill, that home run second baseman, leaves his talent to that “Vince DiMaggio” of the Junior class, Jack Lanni. Mary McCallion leaves many a thrilling ride through the winding roads of W est Boxford to Marcia Barker. Bob Downing leaves the Junior girl for whom he has a definite longing under the careful supervision of that super-colossal athlete, Red Greenwood. Helen McEvoy leaves her easy recipe for making friends to Betty James. Robert Farrell, the jitterbug of the Senior class, leaves his dangling feet to Joe Provencher. Sarah Lewis wills a little advice on how to be quiet to Peggy McKinnon. Charles Foster, the proud possessor of those royal chariots, leaves a few of his troubles to a new possessor of the same variety, Philip Miller. Helen Greenler leaves her baby-blue eyes to Doris Rea with the advice, “Stay as sweet as you are.” Ernest Fionte, the boy who says a lot in a few words, leaves his great asset to Pat Kennedy who doesn’t say much in a great many words. Pauline Frisbee leaves a few of her skirts to Louise Detora. Edward Garvey leaves the heart of a Sophomore girl in the hands of Joe Saunders. Esther Forgetta leaves her strict regime to Frances Coppinger. No bpys, no noise, and lights out at 9:00, Fran. Allen Gesing leaves his rippling rhythm to David Ritchie. Rita Fogarty leaves her quiet, dignified manner to Florence Petteruto. Charles Gillespie, that handsome brute who never looks twice at a woman (they all look at him,) leaves his ability to slay them to John Jackson. Barbara Dillon, the girl who probably doesn’t know one boy from another, leaves her attitude toward boys to Marguerite Kenyon. the one and only class of 1939 that have sat back and watched the friendly faculty all but do the “highland fling” in order to penetrate the extra hard she ' ll that covers the whitish mass in the well known 25