Richard Montgomery High School - Rocket Yearbook (Rockville, MD)

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luscious, limpid, blonde locks. We tear ourselves away from the grasping hands of our friends who wish to give us a peroxide pretty-up” and speed back to the 1st floor. Running from the elevator we bump into Charlotte Parks and scatter her many provisions for her coming missionary trip to China. Just as we skid through the diamond trimmed door, we hear horrifying screams pierce the air and look up to see Thomas (Giggles) Buckmann’s Batty, No-dash Brainy Joint” for the feeble-minded. Housed there is our nice little neighbor from England, Gill Bairsto, tied tightly to an iron bar, calmly writing her one-thousandth edition of Why Americans Drove Me Nuts.” Just then the little man in a white coat, Harry (Military Academy) Stevens, is leading a red-headed maniac who screams I won’t be a farmer, I won’t be a farmer! I won’t! I won’t! because I am Ward Fetrow, President of the student body of RMHS” slowly down the hall. Agreeing that we’d better leave Buchmann’s Nut House, we hop next door into Kathleen Clagett’s red-hot physical culture school and view her able assistant, Pauline Howard, as they gaze proudly upon their classes. In the room next to the main gym, Doris Hankel and Alton Elder are holding classes for all people over six feet on how to shrink six inches in two weeks. We take particular notice of the sign over the door reading The Best Things Come in Small Packages,” while directly across the hall Kathryn Kirby and Bobby Mills are running competition with their The Best Things Come in Big Packages School.” Noting a small door leading from the Physical Culture School with the sign Surveying While U Wait” over the door, we pick our way inside only to see Mrs. Reed’s boys, Francis Fisher, Donald Lawson, and Ed Sparks down on their knees rolling the dice; the plans for the tennis courts, swimming pools and covered passage-ways to the caf” for RMHS cast aside for the moment. Ah, yes, time is fast whizzing by, so we’d best be shoving off for other parts. Just as we step out into the street, we are almost crushed beneath the galloping hoofs of a horse with a gay little rider perched in the saddle. We recognize Joanne Hickman with her pocketbook swinging on one arm and her nurse’s degree swinging on the other. As she disappears, we sigh and turn our eyes toward a curving sidewalk that leads to the court house steps and decide to peek inside. We hear a strong, masculine voice from inside the court room and look in to see Dickie Gray, the new State’s Attorney with Doris Curtis (thus the curving walk) perched comfortably on his lap. Nearby we see Mary Jane Snouffer and Louise Reid as the two working secretaries in the court house. Having decided that we will have to depart from Rockville, we hop into our football ship and dash away. Ah ha, what’s this we spy? A lonely farm in the shape of a huge 4-H,” with Stanley Stiles as the proud and happy President of the Successful Young Farmer’s Association of America. We see that, at last, Stanley Sherman has found a place

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’Tis a sunny day on the football field of Montgomery High in the year 1958, and a stirring can be seen beneath an orange and blarlc helmet cast aside from the ’48 football season. As I crawl from beneath Fetrow’s size 10 helmet, I wonder why I can’t see. What’s the matter, what’s the matter? Oh, now I know. My bangs haven’t been cut for ten years. I shove them back from my face, gaze at the helmet next to mine and gingerly toss it aside. Who should be there but my twin, who, dressed as I, wears the black sweater, the orange and black skirt, and dirty white saddle shoes that can only prove we were the cheerleaders of ’48. After picking ourselves up, (she still clutches her Christmas card folder!) we exchange greetings and converse on the subject of our classmates. Since neither of us could inform the other on the subject, the logical place to begin our research seemed to be the school. Thus we progressed up the bank and through the aqua doors of our Alma Mater. We barge into the office and step back, startled, to see Kathleen Smith as Principal and Marjorie Creamer as Vice-Principal. After conversing a few sics with our old classmates, we decided to tour the school and see what changes had been made. Marching down the hall and passing the bank, we wave gaily to Margaret Ricketts who is still THE PROPHECY figuring up the debt for the Rocket of ’48. Next we cast ourselves into the typing room, and amid the beautiful plastic, atomic typewriters, we spy Joyce Perry and Josephine Thomas conducting a class in the art of typing 500 words a minute with only 500 mistakes. At this moment Jene Van Nordstrand dashes frantically into the room with the notices, screaming, “I’ll get those kids who skipped or die in the attempt.” We discover that she has taken the position of school secretary. Just then the bell blasts away, and the supervisors of the patrol (gestapo system of RMHS), Julia Darby and Allan Burgee may be seen using their ray guns on the unsuspecting students. Suddenly we hear the fire siren, and with hopes of returning to the school later, we dash madly up the street. Upon arriving at the Fire Department, we view Bill Berry in the Chief’s car still selling his new pocket editions entitled How To Pass Biology in 40 Years.” Finding Bill too absorbed in his work to speak, we head down the beaten path that is East Montgomery Avenue and stop, as our eyeballs nearly pop out upon seeing Joanne Brosius, the new Duchess of Magruder, whizzing by in her limousine with all the little Dukes in the rear compartment. Turning left we come face to face with a huge plate glass fronted store displaying Thompson-burgs” in solid gold letters — owned, operated, and fondly cherished by Gene Thompson, Esq. Looking into the ritzy interior, we see Jackie Abbe’s counter with a sign reading Clothes Made While You Wait, Men’s or Women’s.” Having noticed a dog sled outside, we aren’t too shocked to see Frank (He-Man) Darcey garbed in a coonskin cap and Eskimo outfit buying supplies for a ten-year trip to Alaska and all parts west. Next we step into the Atomic power elevator and speed to the 52nd floor, where we are most charged to see Mary Jo Berrier, Frances Salyers, and Peggy Lancaster’s Super, Slick, Slimy, Superior Salon (beauty, that is) where all girls may buy long, 26

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ROCKET STAFF The Rocket Staff is proud to present to you our yearbook of 1948. We have planned, worked hard, and yes, even schemed to make this a yearbook to remember. With the advice and assistance of Miss Will we have sought to achieve this product of our dreams and combined efforts. We shall never forget those last weeks of work, and . . . Those deadlines” . . . the typing staff plowing through stacks of articles . . . our editor misplacing her notes . . . the art staff drawing like mad under the able supervision of Miss Day . . . and finally, the circulation staff canvassing the world hereabouts!! With memories of frantic efforts to compile a record of our school experiences from the pictures taken and the articles written, we offer you the results. 28