Paris High School - Chronicle Yearbook (South Paris, ME)

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THE CHRONICLE FRESHMAN CLASS Front ROWAN. Emmons, J. Starbird, F. Hall, J. Newell, D. Iwans, Mrs. Huff, B. Foster, J. Graves, L. Corbett, B. Morrisette, R. Ladd. Second Row-R. Glover, J. Wood, E. Merrill, G. Perkins, K. Piirainen, S. Smith, O. Pulkinnen, L. Starbird, B. Terry, J. Gray, B. Yates. Third Row-E. Everett, D. Maxim, E. Stone, R. Keenagh, W. Bryant, W. Kyllonen, K. Kozak, R. LaBay, R. Swallow, F. Glover, R. Welch. Fourth ROWAJ. Timberlake, A. Littlefield, J. Welch, D. Matthews, H. Gay, A. Knight, R. Merrill, C. Turner, R. Sweatt, R. Brown. Fifth Row-B. Gatchell, M. MacG0wn, J. Simpson, I. Morang, L. Neit, S. Gordon, C. Cummings, D. Cummings, R. Nelson. CLASS OF 1959 CLASS OFFICERS Q. President ........ Vice-President .... Secretary ........ Treasurer .... Flower ..................... Colors ................................ .................... .....,.............. BRUCE FOSTER DONALD IWANS . JUDY NEWELL JANET GRAVES Pink Carnation Pink and Black Student Council Members .... Olga Pulkkinen and Matthew MacGown

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26 TH E CHRONICLE PANCI-lO S GIFT It was one of those parties where fifty would be a comfortable number a hundred and fifty showed up. Its purpose was to entertain but I could find nothing entertaining about bump- ing elbows and exchanging apologies with a hundred and forty-nine other people. It was then not by chance that I happened to stroll out to the veranda. It was by chance, however, that I heard a certain young woman of some social standing say to a young man of somewhat the same caliber, Who was the most interesting person you ever met? Although the question was not dir- ected at me, I immediately answered out loud, Pancho Sanchez . She gave nie a strange look for a moment then smiled and continued with her conver- sation. But the question had caught me quite off balance and it had seem- ed like the words just spurted out of me at the time. For truly Pancho San- chez was the most interesting and the most striking person I have ever met. Pancho had a talent-a very rare talent it was: that of saying exactly the right thing at exactly the right time. He was a genius in his own right and there was no taking it away from him. To watch him turn on his charm was like watching a work of art. He could do it whenever and to whomever he pleased. I first met Pancho Sanchez in a little cafe in Greenwich Village just after the war ended in 1945. He was supposed to be a Waiter but most of the time he would just sit in a booth at one end of the place and play his guitar to the amusement of the cus- tomers who patronized the place re- gularly or for those who visited it just out of curio-sity. The Old Mexico the place was called. I used to take friends to see Pancho occasionally from time to time when I resided in New York City. Always they came away impressed. I remem- ber once when I was alone, I watched Pancho exercise his gift. A young man, a Mexican like Pan- cho was attempting to sell souvenirs to a young woman tourist and was having very poor results. Pancho watched for while, then he took two earrings from a cigar box next to where he sat and walked over to the group. Allow me, he said to the young man and moved him gently aside. This rubbish which he is trying to sell you, my dear, is not even worthy of this place. Please forgive him. Here is what he should be selling. It was then that Pancho displayed the earrings. For the first time in the whole transaction the woman's face shown with interest. You, no doubt, know what a truly great craftsman the Mexican Silver- smith is, acquiring his skill from the Aztec Indian and the Spanish con- quistadors. Well, my dear, here is an exceptional example of his genius. Two very splendid earrings. Delicate masterpieces, they are. Fit for a queen and they are yours for just five dol- lars, m'adam. She bought them. Pancho's charm had once again won out. Pancho went back to Mexico in 1950 but before he left, he was in- volved in a very strange and singular incident. The spring of 1949 saw it happen, and it took place down in Greenwich. The mobs were being cleaned up and many of those who are known in underworld argot as stool pigeons, were seeking refuge