Plymouth High School - Pilgrim Yearbook (Plymouth, MA)

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THE EDITORS' COR ER BALLET SLIPPERS They lie in the corner all tattered and worn. The color is fadedg the leather is torn. But with these old slippers I never shall part. The mem'ries they bring back are close to my heart. For these are the slippers that I wore that night, The night that I danced 'neath the gleaming spotlight. I can see it before me, the stage all aglowg The audience expectantg the house lights turned low. I knew that my entrance was then very near, For out of the silence came music so clear. The curtain then parted, I made my debut- There was joy in my heart, I ne'er before knew. JOYCE CONTENTE Editor-in-Chief Class '53 SNOWFLAKES The wild wind howls with fury As snowflakes leap aboutg Whirling, darting, twirling, They approach the ground with doubt. Of crystal, spectral hue, They dance before ice-laden trees, Then slowly, smoothly, wholly, They glide to the ground with ease. BARBARA WARNSMAN Class of '55 THE TELEPHONE I sit expectant all alone, Thoughts intent on the telephone. He said he'd call me on this day. I wonder what he'll have to say! Suppose that he will never call, That I won't hear from him at all. But let me tell you I won't cry O'er him who's left me high and dry. I'll find myself another man. You bet your life I surely can! A man who will be true to me, As kind and faithful as can be. But wait, is that the phone I hear? Hello, is that you Steve, my dear? Was I worried Why not at all. Of course I knew that you would call! JOYCE CONTENTE Editor-in-Chief Class '53 WHISPER OF WIND O Whisper of Wind in a narrow street, Who can know your secret sweet? Who can remember that April is fleet? That December is lusty and long? Who can remember that April is gone? Distant vales of misty green, Will you come again O Whisper of Wind in a narrow street? KARIN S. ENGSTROM Class of '54

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IN MEMORIAM by Mr. Mongan The measure of a man is to be found in the hearts of his friends. Those who know and love him, who cherish the same ideals and respect the same virtues can best understand the heart of him they call friend. And this, not in the sense of an appraisal, but rather with the warm-hearted gratitude that flows from the recognition that here is a man. All too often the self-effacing and self-denying qualities that are essential to true magnanimity obscure or conceal the real stature of a man, and it is not until the angel of death has swept away the nonessentials that true worth and dignity stand forth. For true achievement is not to be measured by material progress nor necessarily by any of the concomi- tants of materiality. Man's worth is of his spirit. Look, therefore, into your own hearts to find his kindly nature, his sympathy, search your minds to find the quick intelligence, the ready response, the directing energy which informed his nature and was trans- mitted to you by his example. Look into the eyes of the children and you will see the friendliness with which he looked upon them. For now that he is gone where else on this earth can we find him ? Those of us who worked with Mr. Jones, those of us who worked- as we all must-for the children, under his guidance, will miss him. The days as they pass will remind us of his smile, his gentle manner, his warm hand-clasp, his softspoken, heartening words. And whatever of sadness those memories may bring they will also bring the courage and the firm faith that emanated from him as he met his daily duties. From school to school, with teachers or with pupils, in his office, at committee meetings, in all his goings-out and comings-in, he shouldered more than his share of the problems that beset us all in trying to teach the young. Doggedly he set himself to work for the betterment of our schools that our children might have a chance at a better life. Patiently he listened to our troubles and bore with our complaints. And from him came no complaints - although his heart must often have been sore, He had to face his share of defeats and disappoiraments, and dismay must often have dogged his footsteps and invaded his thought. Yet somehow he found a way to go on - and to go forward. This last year of his illness can teach us all much of what maskes for grandeuriin human charaqter. Yet lie was not pafagon, no inhuman embodiment of perfection- aloof, austere. He wore his fgults as becomingly as his virtues, and in humility tried to make up for his.shortcomings. There was no ytense about him, no pose. He was-openlylwhat he wasg and like most of us, wished, and worked, that he might be better. He was too tonest to attempt to impress by reason of his position and authority, too modest to fiut himself forward for public praise, too fair-minded to throw his shadow over ,fellow-workers. His light should long illumine our lives. 5.

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PILGRIM STAFF 1952-1953 Editor-in-Chief - Joyce Contente Junior Assistant Editor- Karen Engstrom Sophomore Assistant Editor-Barbara Warnsman Business Staff - Adele Vandini, Manager Janice Davis, Asst. Manager, Cecelia Jacobs, Caroline Dittmar, David Santos, Roger Weaver, Jackie Weston, Phillip Canevazzi, Dora-Lee Roulston, Audrey Scagliarini Art Staff-Sally Eldridge, Editor Priscilla Tillson, Claire Baratta, Frank Nunes, Joyce Brenner Photography Staff-Ted Swenson, Editor Benjamin Cohen, Asst., Virginia Colas, Richard Waterman School News - Elizabeth Priestley Senior Statistics-Joan Carton, Editor Nancy Morse, Nancy Owens, Joan Lexner, Shirley Garuti, Susan Bailey, Elaine Barboza, Shirley Ferreira, Joyce Busi, Marilia Corvelo Senior Features-Sally Holmes, Editor Joanne Fillebrown, Shirley Ferreira, Lucille Alsapiedi, Elaine Bar- boza, Pat Carmichael Boys' Sports Editor-Phillip Carletti Ira Carlin, Asst. Girls' Sports Editor-Constance Hadaway French Editor - Sheila Clough Latin Editor - Pat Baker Science . . . Math Editor-Ben Cohen Typists-Shirley Garuti, Nancy Owens, Beverly Tassinari, Cynthia Smith