Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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28 of the Hall. I began looking for the House Cham- ber. I found it without too much difficulty I by following the crowd I and took my seat in the first section of the Chamber. I had been selected to serve on a committee of fifteen senators and representatives whose duty was to escort their Excellencies Governor Bradford and Governor Nichols into the joint session. After returning to our seats, we heard addresses from both Governors, Speaker of the House Willis, and Senator Sumner Whittier, who was responsible for the bill which made Good Government Day a law. At 10:30 the Committee on Ways and Means met to consider Governor Bradford ' s Budget Recommendations for the fiscal year 1949 begin- ning July 1, 1948 and ending June 30, 1949. As a member of that committee, I joined in the dis- cussion concerning various appropriations for such services as the Highway Fund and the Port of Boston Authority. Committee hearings were held at 11:00 o ' clock to discuss the bills which were to be taken up in the Legislature in the afternoon. I attended the hearing which dealt with House Bill No. 3 Resolutions memorializing Congress in opposi- tion to universal military training. After hear- ing the pros and cons of the important issue, the committee voted 9 to 6 against the bill. We dined at the Boston City Club in true governmental style. After the completion of our meal, we returned to the capitol to take up the burning issues of the day. The students took over the Governor ' s office, the various departments of government, and the Senate with dignity, decorum and delight, to say nothing of intense interest. However, the de- corum was lacking in the House where the largest number gathered, and where the going was the roughest. The interest was burning, and we representatives had strong opinions on uni- versal military training and wanted to express them. It was a scrappy group of parliamentarians that faced House Speaker Miss Patricia Daly of Lowell. She proved quite capable of pounding us into submission, forcing a vote on L . M. T., and then railroading through an adjournment. To bring the whole affair off with some semblance of order, she finall) had to throw over her advisers. Speaker Frederick B. Willis and House Clerk Lawrence R. Grove. She also had to ignore a parliamentary nicety and handle the whole affair like a woman — in her own way. The resolution sought to memorialize Congress against universal military training. Thus, if one voted for the resolution it meant that he was against universal military training, and if one voted against the resolution it meant that he was in favor of universal military training. The con- fusion was infectious. Throughout the afternoon. Miss Daly ruled the rambunctious, raucous but deadly eager and serious students as we sought, almost without exception, to get the floor. Finally as the clock reached 4:30 p.m. the question on the resolution was put to us. We voted in favor of the resolution against military training. Madam Speaker, one young man yelled, leaping to his feet, we don ' t even know what ' s going on ! It was decided to hold the vote over. Then the trouble began. If you favor military train- ing, you will vote for the resolution, Miss Daly began. There was a roar of protests. She called a recess. Mr. Grove, the clerk of the House of Representatives, stepped up and took the micro- phone. He explained very carefully that this was a negative resolution, and that we had to be careful. We listened attentively. Mr. Grove then proceeded to get mixed up. There was more noise. Miss Daly took command. She called the House to order and said loud and clear into the micro- phone, Everyone in favor of military training stand. There were some protests. Speaker Willis started to step forward to explain that she wasn ' t taking a vote on the resolution. But he saw that Miss Daly was determined on a course of action and was not to be crossed. The shouts persisted from the floor. We stood and were counted. We had voted for the bill by 137 to 86. I voted with the majority. Some faintl) tried to challenge the vote on the question of parliamentary procedure. It is too late to challenge the vote, Miss Daly declared, and pounded for order. Somebody shouted for a motion for adjourn- ment. Miss Daly caught it among the other shouts, called it to the attention of the House, called for a vote, declared that the ayes had it, — and the session was over. Never had the house been filled with so many legislators, nor so many spectators. The press gallery was packed. Some state representatives had strung out along the walls to coach the stu- dents: others just to observe. The entire program was sponsored by the Massachusetts Civic League and financed b the Moses Kimball Fund for the Promotion of Good Citizenship. Continued on page 36

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27 The Youth of America vs. Coiuniiiuism Shirley Damon, ' 48 WK. the youth of America, are faced with mam grave problems, the most imjjortant, the most terrifying of which is communism. We have been told main times in many ways that we are the future citizens of this natioii and of this world: that it is up to us whether this nation stands or falls; that it is up to us whether this world returns once again to a dark age. or goes on to a brighter, more progressive civilization. If we have never before sensed the meaning of these words, surely now with the world in its chaotic condition, we realize their full signifi- cance. In recent weeks, Russia, without the pretenses and lies used by Hitler in 1938 and 1939, has taken over an immense portion of Europe. Surely, if any of us has had any ideas leaning the slightest bit toward communism, or has thought the communist attitude in any way admirable, he has changed his attitude with haste. We need only to read the recent issues of Life, Time. Newsweek, or other such periodicals, to begin to realize what a cold, terrifying, and unalterable lot these Communists are. The important question of the hour is, Are we ready to stand up against the communist forces? At the moment, I am not referring to the military preparedness of the United States, but rather to the attitude of American youth in the face of communism. We should have our minds barred against the entry of any communistic or social- istic trends. We should follow closely the events of the day, both international and national, so as to foresee coming events and be prepared. We should try to stamp out any communistic or socialistic trends that we see or feel in our fellow- men by pointing out to those persons quietly and logically the great disaster that conmmnism brings upon a nation and its people. Lastly, in order to do the aforementioned, we should study the tactics of the Communists that bring them into power; for in order to fight communism, we must know a bit of the origin, the organs of government, and the goals of the Communist Party. It takes but a few minutes to look up the Connnunist Party in an encyclopedia and to learn of the world domination goal that it has had in mind since World War I. With the facts that can be gathered from ency- clopedias and periodicals and with our fine democratic education, we should be well equipped to fight communism at every front, for it is our duty to protect this nation from communist domination and to help prevent further domina- tion of the world. I ' m prepared to fight com- munism whenever and wherever I can; are you? If we, the youth of America, all pull together to win this battle as we would to win a football game, we shall reach our goal in half the time that it will take if we lie down on the forty-yard line. So let ' s all roll up our sleeves and roll down the field towards our goal of a peaceful, demo- cratic world, while our coaches, our parents, are standing on the sidelines shouting the battle cry. FIGHT. Representative For A Day Jon Flynn, ' 48 Harry G. Hartwell of Mobile, Alabama was defeated in his race for Congressman in the First District. According to his statement filed with the Secretary of State, his expenditure of money was the least of all, as his statement shows: I lost six months and ten days canvassing, lost 1,000 hours sleep worrying over the results of the election, lost 20 pounds of flesh, kissed 500 babies, kindled 100 kitchen fires, put up 10 stoves, cut 11 cords of wood, carried .50 buckets of water, pulled 400 bundles of fodder, walked 1,000 miles, shook hands 20,000 times, talked enough to fill one month ' s issue of the New York World, got dog bit nine times, and then got defeated. I iilike the unfortunate Mr. Hartwell, I was elected, — to represent the second Plymouth District in the General Court as part of a program initiated by the Legislature to acquaint high school students with the organization and im- portance of state government. Good Govern- ment Day, as the program is called, was held on February 20, 1948, at the state capitol in Boston. Representative Nathaniel Tilden. whose place I took in the Legislature, escorted me to the State House, where registration began at nine o ' clock. After I had registered and received full identi- fication cards, luncheon tickets, and necessary information, I was free to do as I pleased until ten o ' clock when a joint session would be held in the House Chamber. I decided to use my free time looking over the State House. After riding up and down in an elevator and taking directions from the operator several times, I made my way into the beautiful Hall of Flags. After I had enjoyed the splendor

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29 WEBS Josephine Miles, ' 48 All lhat was ugly and grim about the city was so altered by the falling mist that everything around her took on the exciting, enchanting (jualities of a mystery . . . She lifted her face unresistingly to the falling rain as if searching there for some answer to the wild, surging joy she experienced in the sudden freshness of the moment. She felt that she must know how the parched earth feels with the first spat- tering of rain on its face ... its thirst hardly quenched by the little drops, aching, craving, for more. She knew what it must be like to gaze from the bottom of a pool through the rain-drops dotting its surface, into the rainbow above . . . for the silver drops fell into her unclosed eyes, splashing against her eyeballs and sending the images of little lights afloat, as if the tears of heaven had come down and replaced her own. Lights sent sparkling paths across the pave- ment. Black rivers were flowing everywhere, and across them the paths of a hundred moons lighted her way home. Light on the cobblestones made a shining web, as if some monstrous spider had spun the wretched alleys with pure silver . . . Fresh, and washed clean, breathing the mys- terious dew of night, she made her way through the labyrinth of alleys, and then, turning abruptly, fled up the stairs of her dank, foul apartment . . . The Old Cape Codder Stanwood Briggs, ' 48 I met him just as he was climbing into his skiff. It was early morning and the sand was cold and damp from the night. Wait a minute! I called as I ran over to him. He stopped and looked up at me. What can I do for yuh? he asked, wiping his nose with a big red bandanna. With one glance of his keen blue eyes, he appraised me. For my part I saw a tall, slightly-stooped old man, perhaps sixty-five or seventy years old. He wore an old flannel shirt and faded blue over- alls. He had on old tattered rubber boots and a long-visored fishing cap. Would you hire me for a couple of weeks? I asked him. I want to learn how to fish. All depends, he replied, a twinkle in his eye. Depends on what? I asked feeling helpless. On whether or not you are a cap ' ble seaman. The town that 1 come from is on the ocean and 1 own a skiff there, I replied, anxious to make a good impression on the old man. I ' ll give you a chance today. Climb aboard and shove off, he said and lit his pipe. I jumped into the stern and i ushed off. The old man rowed. My name is Joe Basset, I offered by way of conversation. Mine ' s Bob Nickerson, he replied. We rowed to the fishing boat in silence, my companion puffing on his old battered pipe and 1 watching the gulls overhead. The fishing boat was just like the owner, old but neat and clean. 1 watched while he got the old model-A engine running. Cast off the bow line! he shouted above the unmuffled roar of the engine. 1 hastened to obey, and soon we were chugging down toward open ocean. Can you take the helm? I have some hooks to bait, he suddenly demanded. Sure, I answered, glad of a chance to prove my worth to the skeptical old man. Keep ' er to the starboard. 1 did as I was commanded. Not so far over, he shouted. Do you want to run us aground? So it was all day. I never did anything right. At least nothing was right as far as he was con- cerned. Take the matter of pulling the trolls. First I ran the boat too fast and then too slow. He shouted at me constantly in his funny Cape Cod drawl. I was afraid he would not hire me. On the way to the dock he was silent. I didn ' t know what to do or say, so I just sat. Although I had made many mistakes, 1 loved the sea and wanted a chance to make good at my first real job. 1 wanted to tell him just how much the job would mean to me. but the words wouldn ' t come. There were several men loafing on the pier as we came in. As we tied, the old man took his pipe out of his mouth, spat with accuracy on an old piling and then cleared his throat. Boys, he drawled, I want you to meet my new crew member. Wh at ' s your name again? Joe Basset, I choked out and my eyes filled with tears. I tried to thank him. but all he said was to unload them fish.