Nottingham High School - Bulldog Yearbook (Syracuse, NY)

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BOOK IV Point of no return . . lf in our Freshman year we were amazed when there wasn't school, conversely, as Seniors we were amazed when there was. What with assemblies, Sen- ior meetings, official conferences, examinations, trips, concerts, yearbook pictures, and anything else imagin- able, Miss McBurney sadly concluded: Why have school at all? Despite the confusion, however, Seniors hit the books harder than ever, realizing the truth of that ancient Chinese proverb-no tickee, no washee. Through the profound wit and humor of the team of Button and Borzelle, classes became more bear- able. Frying eggs, the life and love of the hydrogen atom, pennies disappearing in nitric acid, and all manner of nauseating odors greet one's entrance into room 114. The famous sign was lacking from the trophy case this fall, though each and every one of us was very, very proud of each and every member of the football team from the bottom of our hearts, they managed to lose each and every game. Nevertheless, we still had something to live for, as there were the 8 a.m. A Cappella rehearsals Qif one can call that livingl. Miss Kappesser advised the weary warblers that success depended on keep- ing the eyes closed in the Sackett manner. Seniors invaded the city's newspapers and radio stations with editorials and that's about all the news from Nott- ingham this week. Some translated the mighty Aeneid or memorized Ode to a Grecian Urn. Others stuck to more down to earth subjects as printing, shop, and foods 17. Nottingha.m's alert Student Council, inliamed by a proposal to name our prospective new home Chris- topher Columbus, promptly petitioned the school board to have the name William Nottingham transferred to the new edifice. Meanwhile, ground was broken and work begun on the magnificent structure. And back in the old building the plaster began to fall, much to the dismay of one young stu- dent who was under same. So eventually the plas- terers came to replace the ceiling. During the fall a new club opened its doors. Fos- tered by Miss Durkin's inventive brain, Club 110 was instituted among her classes. And, between first and second periods on many mornings, one could find Betsy Nelson conducting an impromptu meeting of the Girls' League Boys' Auxiliary Board-single- handed. After ejecting two cocker spaniels, a boxer, a dachshund and a cat, and sending President Nel- son to Miss Sanderson's oflice, the efficient corridor guides usually managed to quell the riot. Some order was created out of the chaos, however, when the senior class officers were elected following a restful Thanksgiving holiday. The peace and quiet was short-lived, though, for the problem of caps and gowns was soon raised. To wear or not to wear -that was the question, as Sid Weinstein and Amy Devorsetz modeled the latest creations. Despite the unbiased advice of Mr. Kane, the class adopted the proposal to wear caps and gowns. To collect the' stupendous dues and fees, Ann Bassett, our treasurer, began to spend eight periods a day in the vaults of room 132, and many were the impassioned appeals for money and more money that issued from her lips. And then there was some talk of a yearbook. The Spring term of 1951 found many changes in Nottingham, several of our contemporaries had de- parted for college, or jobs, while others remained for post-graduate work-otherwise known as the three- period day. February brought the last of 51,750 in Senior dues, while with March came yearbook sales, college boards, and the All-School Revue. The latter was emceed by Bill Veigel, attired in a bright royal blue shirt and dazzling red tie. Sid Dana's impro- vised piano features, Bob Evans' baritone and the Dance of the Seven Whales highlighted this gala event. There also was the debut of Nottingham's versatile gymnastic team. A glorious prom and picnic and finally graduation itself capped our four hard years of high school. We have had space in this book only to list a very few of the highlights of four eventful years. The complete record could fill a Britannica or two. The years have been all too short, but the memories are legion. We feel compelled to mention Miss Ayling's library, Westcott Street with its Ostrom's, Wittig's, and the Mohican, the parties, hayrides, Drumlins, seventh period, Hallowe'en carnivals, dances, Fred Carraugh and the custodial staff, the cafeteria. But we could go on forever. All in all, as we think back over our school days, we remember not the buildings nor the books so much as the friends we made and the fun we had with themg for these things consti- tuted the real Nottingham.

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