Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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. . . Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh

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CLA88 HI8T0RY As we, the class of 1974, draw our high school years to a close, there rise within each of us the mixed emotions that beset almost every senior who peers over the edge of graduation to see the great open space, the frontier which is his future. The sentiments we feel at this time are varied. At one moment, it ' s relief — a feeling that after four long years of the same walls, the same teachers, the same classrooms, we are free. In the same moment, there is something inside us that holds us here — some unspeakable force which has entwined itself within the fabric of our lives and sadly reminds us of the youth that has been slowly, silently slipping away from us during the past four years. We are looking in two directions — not only to the future, but to the past, with fond memories of the happy times, the sad times, the troubled and the laugh- ing times that we, as a class, have shared together. On September 5, 1970, we entered the high school — typically eager, awkward, and naive little freshmen. The girls held their hands behind them as they walked past the library, where the worldly senior men all convened, and we all tried to act very cool as we Icxjked for cafeteria A over by the library. When the time came, we built the unfor- gettable abominable snowman float for Homecoming, 1970. As the future class of 1974, we promised we ' ll do more, and we did. You name it, we did more of it. Our frosh football team, with a whole line-up of stars had an undefeated season. And the parties — oh, those freshman parties. Sophomore year was soon upon us and we were growing up. No longer awkward freshmen, we carried ourselves with a bit more confidence and the dignity of a class experienced in high school affairs. With our number, ' 74 inscribed dramatically on the rock outside, we were finally recognized as a real part of SHS. But we had yet a long way to go. Our Homecoming float was not a great success and we were still groping about in the dark, torn between the enthusiasm of freshman year and the renewed unity that jun- ior year brings. At long last, our junior year, so full of promise, arrived as the class of 1974 anxiously awaited the days to come. It materialized as a year of success, of It ning and of memora- ble experiences. Our first brainchi ' d was the impressive dragon float — a masterpiece from the chicken wire to the sickly green paint that left its mark on almost every article of cloth- ing we wore. We won first prize with it, and our pride mounted as we set the scene for our next big first, Looney Tunes. 4