Nottingham High School - Bulldog Yearbook (Syracuse, NY)

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and David Crossman were running for Nottingham on the track team, a championship one at that. It wasn't long before Soph biologists were tapping out Morse Code while dotting protoplasm to give their amebas a drape shape. In English we explored the innermost thoughts of Silas Marner while trying to memorize Geometry Proposition M, the shortest distance between two points is . . . is . . . ah . . . well, that was a long time ago. Suddenly, one drizzly day, we were alarmed by the fire bell, and taken out of our classes to the Nottingham Dust B--- oops, Athletic Field. There we saw Fiery Felix, a spectacular character who took great delight in making things hot for people. Spring was ushered in, bringing an answer to all our problems in the form of an assembly featuring Dr. Duvall. Few will forget the sad saga of Ann and the Unfinished Blouse, or the stimulating' dis- cussions on How to Get a Datei Too, there was D'Tasea's spring play, Meet the Duchess, where a romance between heroine Micky Levy and hero Marty Gussow almost didn't work. By this time, we began to tremble at the thought of our first Regents. Caesar crossed and recrossed the Rhine, and the question of the day was, What did you get for this answer? But even that torture passed, and we looked ahead to vacation and to com- ing back the following Fall as Juniors. BOOK III The third degree . . Nottingham became 25 years old as the Class of '5l entered its Junior year, and great was the cele- bration. A huge new trophy case greeted students returning in September, with a sign reading, Re- served for Football Trophy prominently displayed. Many were the disparaging remarks about these words. But to the surprise of all, it wasn't long before we heard Mully's famous exclamation, Ain't it a grand and glorious feeling? And it certainly was when we saw the Orange and Blue wind up a great season by replacing that sign with a golden football. Thanks to the victory over O.V.A., jerry Sackett was able to add another historic quotation- It was mighty quiet in the valley last night! It was just about this time that knitting argyle socks for their heroes was keeping the girls busy. On the hole, it wasn't bad. Another fashion fad was added when Pee-Wee Klein appeared displaying his new pink shirt. Ted Stoltz contributed a red shirt and yellow pants to the prevailing mode. During this year most of the class turned sweet sixteen, that precarious age when the Motor Ve- hicle Bureau issues driving licenses. Sweet sixteen and never been missed was quite appropriate con- sidering that most of the Junior class had been nearly extinguished by Mad-Man Louie Kupperman. That year the parking lot was redesignated the N.H.S.- M.A.R. or the Nottingham High School Museum for Ancient Relics. Proprietors were Carl Hughes, Phil Holstein, and Steffen Wolff. In contrast to the above, Rudy Graf and Ann Gardner were winners of a Safety Slogan contest. This book would be incomplete without mention- ing some of our famous assemblies during that year. Remember when Gordon MacRae came back to his alma mater and so thrilled Miss Durkin that she had to kiss him on the cheek before he left? Then there was Miss Gordon, the English school teacher, who made the girls feel mighty glad that in the U.S.A. they can entertain their fellas at tea parties without being chaperoned. An addition to Nottingham during the third year were the words of wisdom over the trophy case. And who can forget Miss Bush's class when Onnie Frank insisted that the House of the Seven Gables was a house with a broad door, through which the Gables entered, and had fights with the other Gables under the eaves. fThat's almost as bad as the one about Angry Raisinsf' It used to be Grapes of Wrath, but it was left out in the sun too long.l Nottingham, while celebrating its Silver Anniver- sary with a football championship and a mammoth alumni reunion, learned that from the wranglings of the Board of Education had emerged plans for a new East Side High School, and that Nottingham would revert to a Junior High. But, moaned a Junior, won't people wonder why I never got beyond the eighth grade ? Now on to the final book . .

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