Somerset High School - Raider / Memoirs Yearbook (Somerset, MA)

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CLASS PROPHECY June 6, 1960 Dear Diary .... I have just returned from a wonderful reunion of the class of ' 50 at the ten thousand acre dairy farm of Paul Henri Auclair in Bretagne, France. One of the main purposes of the visit was so that Charles Bottomley, owner and manager of a chain of variety stores, could transact a business deal involving the sale of Auclair ' s Supreme Ice Cream in his many stores throughout the U.S.A. We were honored, while there, with the presence of Edward Simmons, American ambassador to France, accompanied by the notorious criminal lawyer, Preston Sam Spade Smith, who had just saved a condemned French criminal from the guillotine. We spent one evening making a tour of the high spots of the Parisian entertainment world, beginning at the Opera, where Madlyn Crawford was singing the title role in Carmen , and continuing on to the famous night clubs in the Latin Quarter. Here we found two S.H.S. alumni, Jimmy McNamara and Henry Veloza, leading famous jazz bands. Three of our other old friends, Mile. Edith Bouley, alluring torch singer, and Wilma Dickinson and Dick Barrar, world-renowned Apache dancers, were appearing there nightly. Later on we journeyed to Greenwich Village where we visited the two free-lance artists, Milly Lawton and Cathy Camara, and the two originators of Rudolph Reindeer , the beloved comic strip, Wesley Johnson and Paul Manning. The celebrated art critics, Edwin Cadorette and Robert Jack, were in Paris to judge a continental contest, so they spent the evening with us. Sunday morning we attended High Mass at the Notre Dame Cathedral with Father John Leonard officiating. Following the service, we had a late breakfast at the busy sidewalk cafe owned by George Martin, and were served a delicious meal by two very charming waitresses, Do lores Kasher and Dolores Nordeste. After reminiscing with them for a while, we went to see an American film at a local cinema, with Sylvia Green and Steve Golden, current heartthrobs of the silver screen, co-starring in Road to Kalamazoo , a romantic comedy ably directed by John Torres. The show over, we moved on to Sorbonne University where we encountered Theresa Parent teaching advanced math and Charles Harrington completing his studies for his professor ' s degree. Anxious to see one of the physicians on the staff. Dr. Sheila Doyle, we journeyed next to the Somerset Memorial Hospital. To our surprise, we found Fleurette Bouchard, Marjorie Camara, Joseph DiSanti, and William Marland, trustees of tha institution, in conference, making plans for the addition of a free clinic, with executive secretaries, Lorraine Souza and Evelyn Soares, busily taking notes. Then, bidding my old friends au revoir , I summoned one of Richard Martin ' s Tootin ' Taxi Cabs and crossed the English channel via the magnificent bridge designed and built by Bob Broughton, engineer. I went directly to Fred Buckley ' s steamship office and received my passport from Mary Pires, who had acquired a delightful French accent. First Mate William Lee welcomed me aboard the S.H.S. Faculty and conducted me to the quarters of the captain, Kenneth Langfield, who, for old time ' s sake, gave me the run of the ship. When I entered my stateroom, I immediately turned on the radio and to my amazement picked up an American station which was broadcasting a political address by the Honorable Robert Doonan, Mayor of New York, who was running for re-election with Roger King acting as his campaign manager. The salt air having stimulated my appetite, I entered the dining room

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CLASS WILL We, the Class of 1950, being of sound and disposing minds, make, publish and declare this, of our own free will and accord, our last will and testament: We, Beverly Grime and Sheila Doyle, leave a dozen bottles of aspirin tablets for next year ' s editor and assistant editor. I, Joan Gonsalves, leave my dexterity with the baton to future majorettes. We, Madlyn Crawford and Jeanne Bien- venue, leave all the junk in our locker to be cleaned out by future occupants. I, Paul Auclair, leave my cow pin-ups to next year ' s farmers and farmerettes. I, Joe Mullen, leave my limousine to Warren Midwood in case his breaks down. I, Dick Barrar, leave my dancing ability to Marilyn Araujo ' s future escorts. I, Ginny Wilson, leave my curly locks to Nancy George. I, Emily Deane, leave my coiffure to Marilyn Mendillo because it is so much easier to care for. I, Bill Curtis, leave my height to Kenny Jack. I, Ann Murphy, leave my snappy clothes to the girl who will look as nice as I do in them. I, Lorraine Souza, leave my efficiency to future office workers. We, Preston Smith and Bob Broughton, leave our French accents to the A students in next year ' s French class. I, Sylvia Blackledge, leave my persever¬ ance to next year ' s Breeze editor. We have heretofore ascribed our names and affixed our seal this twenty-first day of June, in the year of our Lord, nineteen hundred and fifty. L

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and was served a marvelous dinner, prepared by Dolores Valero. Adding to the excitement of my first meal on board ship was the wonderful background music provided by Bob Hart on his syncopating sax. Next morning, I visited the gymnasium below deck and found Sy Vileila ably supervising the athletic activities. Dolores Moniz, national director of the American Red Cross, was sailing with me and we had a very long and interesting talk. It was she who told me that Joe Mullen, who had gone into business as a used-car dealer several years ago, now controlled an automo¬ bile industry greater in size than Henry Ford ' s largest plants. It seems experi¬ ence is the best teacher. After a swift and rather uneventful voyage, we docked in New York Harbor. Theresa Cordeiro and Elaine Medeiros were in charge of clearing passports and these were the first of my former classmates that I greeted back on American soil. I walked down Fifth Avenue after registering at the Waldorf-Astoria with Cecilia Tavares, Desk Clerk, and stopped in at Chez Emilie, the exclusive hat and dress shop owned and operated by the vivacious Emily Deane. Mary Travers was the very efficient Head Saleswoman and Buyer in the dress department and I arrived just in time to see the latest fashions, styled by designer Ann Murphy, and modeled by our own Beverly Mayes. Hearing that Sylvia Blackledge had been recently appointed editor of the New York Times , I left the shop and took a cab to the large, confusing newspaper office. Seated before a couple of the many clattering typewriters, I saw two familiar faces, namely, Marjorie Chace and Elizabeth Carvalho. I picked up the latest edition, hot off the press, to read that Beverly Grime ' s latest novel, In Sound of the Sea , was an overnight success, a million copies having been sold. In the same paper I noticed that the society news was now being edited by Pat Morgan, and that her column was being syndi¬ cated through papers all over the country. On the Avenue once more, I passed a newstand and found Ginny Wilson ' s picture greeting me from the bright cover of Glamour magazine. As I stood there purchasing a copy, I heard a cheery hello and turned to find Jeanne Bienvenue, now happily married, who was headed for the Children ' s Hospital where her youngest child had recently undergone an appendectomy. Feeling that she needed moral support, I accompanied her and was very glad that I did, for I found Joan Gonsalves supervising a staff of nurses there, among whom were Pat Fleck and Alverda Kantz. After a delicious dinner at Antoine ' s , I went to the CBS television studio where I watched a grand performance by the great comedienne, Betty Dafgard, who was replacing M ilton Berle, the latter having retired after a long and successful career. On the same billing was the Music Hour , featuring Madalene Pereira, concert pianist, and a variety show emceed by Donald Santos. On the Sports Cavalcade lightning-fast pitcher Bill Curtis was interviewed by that man-of-all-sports, Charlie Carpenter. As I left the television studio, I realized what a wonderful adventure my trip had been. I had encountered every member of our class of ' 50 and found them all happy in their chosen paths of life. At the airport I boarded my plane and as the nose of the giant bird headed across the sky towards home I had a sudden feeling of expectancy. I was going back again . . . back to those musty halls of learning, Somerset High, to take part in the gay adven¬ tures of another class. And, just in case you ' re a little confused at this point as to my identity, well. I ' m that little guy known as School Spirit, Esguire, who lives deep in the hearts of all students who have ever sung the Blue and White. Remember me? 29