Sharon High School - Marsengold Yearbook (Sharon, MA)

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Our junior year was a very busy one and many of us wished we could apply ourselves to our books as diligently as we had as freshmen. Prom time came and we were busy for a week cutting out flowers and dancing couples, but felt our efforts more than rewarded when we saw the gym the night of the Prom. Suddenly we were seniors and almost immediately launched upon the first of our senior projects, our fall dance, which was unique in that we played host to the junior high for two hours before the senior high crowd took over. Both groups were fascinated by the real buggy which was placed in the center of the leaf-strewn Hoor. Our play was not only successful, but was the first current Broadway play to be produced in Sharon. With the same ambitious spirit we incor- porated into our yearbook several new features of which we are justly proud. The banquet, graduation, and reception-the usual events-terminate our journey through the grades, but these particular events seem unlike any that we have known before. This year, they belong to us, they are being held in our honor, these are the moments for which we have waited so long. Because we have reached the top at last, we are glad to be out on our way in the world, yet to know that we must leave all the familiar people and places causes a feeling of regret to mingle with our gladness. We begin to realize, perhaps for the first time, the good fun that high school has offered us. Soon the class will separate, and each will go on his own way, but whatever we do-whatever we take up as a career-we shall always fondly remember Sharon High. Nancy Post Patricia Rogers Robert Noyes We Would Change The stairs to escalators. The color of Henry LeCare's hair. The bells to chimes. The seats into chaise longues. The orchestra into a swing band. Those extra blackboards to much needed mirrors. The passing mark to 50. The study hall desks to include yo-yos for the freshmen. The tardy bell to ring at 11:00. The hues of Noyseyis socks. Singy's driving tactics, so life would be safe. The water in the bubblers to coke . The textbooks to funny books. The pictures on the walls to pin-ups. Graduation month to March. page twenty-one

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Class History In 1933 our class began its long, tedious journey toward graduation- that summit to which all school children aspire. Back in those days everyone thought school was fun, it was exciting because it was the biggest thing that had yet come into our lives. We were proud of the fact that we were finally old enough to be in school, and every day we were hustled into the place, there to be praised for our drawings of weird-looking people and animals and houses. Why, thatis excellentli' the teacher would say, but could you tell me just one thing-what is it? And then, there were the days when we marched, one behind the other, in a neat line down the street for a thrilling visit to the Post Office, the stores, and the Library. Later, we made our own little library where we checked out simple primers, oh-so-seriously. The second and third grades were as much fun, but we were afraid they might overwork us, because we had only one recess a day instead of two. Despite the hours spent in learning the fundamentals of arithmetic and a slightly advanced type of reading, we always seemed to find plenty of time to keep our make-believe, outdoor-houses in order or to make a dash for the teacheris big rubber ball. ' By the time we had reached the fourth and fifth grades, we were begin- ning to feel quite grown-up. VVe found ourselves in a building right across from the high school, where we could watch the old high-schoolers, anxiously dreaming of the day when 'we would be as sophisticated as they. But, realizing that many years must pass before then, we drew a large hop-scotch to content us in the meantime. New phases of the game originated and we had soon lost ourselves in this fascinating pastime. The sixth grade was nice, too, but at first the high school building seemed like a forbidding, confusing maze. When adjusted to the new routine. we decided to try out our literary ability on a newspaper which fared rather badly and so appeared just once, much to the dismay of all. However, our musical endeavors were somewhat better, for it was at the end of that year that we saluted the graduating class through a barrage of reeds, otherwise known as recorders. The seniors shifted uncomfortably in their seats at the sound of conspicuously wrong notes, but we felt important even at that. During the whole year we took ourselves very seriously, and a few enterprising mem- bers went so far as to go out on dates, but it was with the utmost amazement that we heard people say no one else in the world took us as seriously as we did ourselves. People 'were certainly funny! Then we entered junior high, where we followed the novel program of a different teacher for every subject. Here, too, we were thrilled on occa- sionally brushing shoulders with the awe-inspiring seniors. As freshmen we bent studiously over our books. That year interest ran high in algebra class, where an overfilled room of rapt students listened daily to Mr. Weldon, whose popularity was undoubtedly responsible for that of algebra. Our Sophomore Hop was acclaimed a great success. Traces of the gay decorations remained in evidence for several years, since the top of our black crepe-paper fence refused to come off. page lwcnly

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Last Will and Testament Know all men by all these presents that on this first day of April in the year of our Lord one thousand nine-hundred and forty-five, we, hereafter to be known, with veneration, as the Senior Class of Sharon High School, in the town of Sharon, County of Norfolk, Commonwealth of Massachusetts, do here- with sign and deliver up for probate this, our last will and testament, revoking any and all other wills, testaments and codicils hitherto made by us. Being of sound bodies and questionable minds, we do petition that the court name as executor to act without bond, Miss Dorris Newton, of the faculty of the aforesaid high school. KNOW, THEN, ALL MEN THAT- Betty Ann Beever leaves her incomparable composure to Phyllis F riberg. Gordon Bell leaves his mathematical genius to Bill McGrath. Mac also has a fine appreciation of figures. Richard Bolan leaves his barbed remarks to Bruce Bailey, who is begin- ning to get the point. . Joshua Bradford leaves, and the Whole school breathes a sigh of relief. Cynthia Brown leaves her soft voice to Raymond Letourneau, to use especially during basketball games. Edward Butler, having given up the chase, leaves his attractive junior scot-free. John Butler leaves his ghost draped over the back comer seat of room 205. Aurora Calla leaves her short legs and mincing gait to Mildred Parry with the hope that they will hold her down a little. Lucy Capen leaves her share of the Marine Corps to jean Gross who seems to be stuck with civilians. Arthur Carroll leaves his razor to Barry Paul. Art can't find any use for it. Jeanne Chase leaves to wait impatiently for a ring from the Marines. Robert Davis leaves his well worn blitz-buggy to Donald Cornell. We hope that Donald won't overstay any parking limits. Claire Dennen leaves her blushes to Catherine Murnane. If anyone objects to the color scheme, Katie can give them back. Marion Durkee leaves a job in Post Office Square to any student who is interested. We think that Elaine Gregory might be able to H11 the bill. Ruth Fader leaves to sprout Wings and don an apron. Daniel Field leaves his thatch of straw to Elliot Aronson. Dannyls going to Mass. State to see about sowing another crop. Leo Fitzpatrick leaves his popularity among the junior girls to Donald King. Surely, this is an honor. Dorothy Gregory leaves john Kitchen. Mildred Holbrook leaves her collection of rings and pins to Nancy Iddings. lVilliam Holway leaves a good 10 cent joke book to Malcolm Reddick. page twenty-two