Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

Page 28 text:

cJ iue an Jj earn I really don’t know just how it happened. I was digging for my trig notebook in my locker one morning when he came by and said. Hi!” Hi!” I gulped and turned back to my search, but he didn’t go away. Who ya going to the prom with?” he blurted. 1 blushed clear to my toes and answered, “Well-wh-I- uh that is 1 haven’t been asked—yet.” How 'bout coining with me?” From somewhere way up in the clouds, a voice that I recognized as my own replied, Thanks, I d love to!” Be seeing ya then,” and he strolled jauntily down the corridor whistling and gay as usual, but leaving my heart thumping at a jet-propelled rate. How I ever got thru that day is a mystery to me. In English Miss Harper called on me twice before I knew she was speaking to me. 1 handed in my physics homework to the French teacher, and in physics all I could mutter was the subjunctive of avoir and ehe. I was in a complete and blissful daze. I’m going to the prom with Roil Larson. He’s so nice and so handsome—always full of fun and life and ready for a swell linn . Me, Sue Thomas. I can’t believe it!” I repeated this over and over to myself all day. I’d secretly had a crush on Rod all year. I thought life was just too wonderful to be real. When 1 told Mum about my invitation, she was as pleased as I. After a confer- ence, Mum and Dad agreed that 1 could have a new gown for the big event. Now I was sure that life was just too super. The next day being Saturday, I was at the Bon Ton as the doors opened. After an hour of trying on gown after gown. I had limited my choice to three- a blue chif- fon, a red and white pique, and a yellow marquisette. Another half hour passed, and I had definitely chosen the yellow marquisette. It was out of this world! Gold slippers, a tiny sequined purse, and chiffon hank’ie completed by ensemble. Leaving school on the Great Day, Rod stopped me by the Pony. See you tonight about eight. Uh—what color’s your dress?” “My dress? Oh my dress, it’s yellow,” I answered, very nervous and flustered. “Okay, see you at eight. Off he went (to the florist’s, I supposed), but rather slowly, his head down between his broad shoulders and his brown eyes gazing at the ground. Why do men always leave things to the last minute? I queried myself, but was too happy to answer. As the clock struck seven, I sat at my dressing table brushing my dark brown hair which, for once, looked just as I wanted it to. I had taken a bath and used all my best bubble bath, lotions, and powders for this Night ol Nights. My gown hung on the hanger, the skirt all pressed and full ol ripples running the whole length. Finally, 1 was ready. The dress looked exquisite, just as I hoped. Just a bit more lip stick. There—that’s just fine. And a touch of perfume. The doorbell rang; Dad answered. A box from the florist for Miss Sue Thomas, he called up, laughing. 1 practically fi ll downstairs to my corsage- dainty blue corn- flowers. How lovely they looked against m yellow gown! I guess boys know more than they’re given credit for,” I thought. Life was just too wonderful to bear. My, but you look sweet, honey,” said Dad. “I’m so glad you bought the yellow dress. Sue. It is so lovely with your dark hair,” complimented Mum. So 1 went back upstairs. Not for the world would I let Rod know that I was wait- ing for him! I sat in my room dreaming of the wonderful time I would have, but sud- denly I was aroused from my day-dreaming. The clock struck eight. Oh, hurry, Rod!” I prayed silently. Then another sound pierced the silence. Telephone, Sue.” I dashed down the stairs. Hello. Yes, this is Sue, Mrs. Larson. Oh—oh—measles!” Nancy Westhaver page twenty-four

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The flak was coming up fast and furious now, making the plane jump around. We started rolling to our right still in the midst of the flak. It stopped momentarily, and 1 got up to my window at the right waist ol the ship. Just as I got to it, I saw one of our planes drifting out of control over on our right. Suddenly one man parachuted out the rear escape hatch, followed in quick suc- cession by five others from different hatches. They had no sooner cleared the plane than it blew up in one black cloud, disappearing from sight. We could still see the target with smoke billowing up to a great height. The bombing results had been very good. All ol the fellows were glad of this because we wouldn't be coming up here again for some time. Coming back home we had to lose altitude fast because of the low supply of oxygen in every ship. We took off our oxygen masks at fourteen thousand feet over Yugoslavia where one ol the planes couldn’t make the last mountain before the Adriatic and crashed into it. A P-38 was sent back to locate it, but was unable to. The rest of the trip was uneventful, and soon we were coming in for our landing. The fellows and I were dead tired because of the almost ten-hour trip, most of it on oxygen. Nevertheless, we had to go to Interrogation where we were first given coffee and doughnuts. All of the ground crew and the flying personnel who weren't on the mission were asking questions of their buddies—where they were, how fast did it come to them, were any parachutes seen. Although the sortie was supposedly secret, all of the men had seemed to sense both the importance and the roughness. Somehow or other, we managed to get back to our tent in less time than usual. When we entered the door, Battle Order” and “Stand Down greeted us uproariously. The other fellows began discussing the mission, but that wasn’t for me. I got the two pups on my cot and lay down beside them. I don't know how long the fellows talked, for I was soon sound asleep. Jack McKim page twenty-three

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 4 Strop Ct ar on a Goodness gracious! Where's that car? I can’t walk; it's much too far. Here it comes. Oh! what a mob! I wouldn’t want that motorman’s job. What a scramble! Hey! Thau’s my toe!” Every person becomes your foe. Listen, you. 1 got here first.” This car’s so full it’s ready to burst. Don't tell me! It’s moving! What misery! There isn’t room for tin- tiniest flea. Buz ! Buzz! Buzz! There goes that bell. Oh, look, Edie! Mary Jonathan fell.” We’re up! We're down! We’re in! We’re out! This is just like a ten-round bout. Quincy Point!” the conductor yells. And immediately comes the buzzing of bells. Pushing, shoving, squeezing through. Oh, here am 1, but where are you? Well, we are out. Oh, there you are! That certainly was a crowded car! Bf.ttina Bkina Gens I've often thought about the time When I would graduate, But now that it is very near, I wonder what's my fate. I might be like an eagle great And fly both free and high, Or maybe just a sparrow small And have my hopes nearby. However fate attends me now. I’ll do my very best To fill God’s expectations. And try life’s every test. Lots McHugh sr-j rv , ‘ page twenty-five