Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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10 SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR where we saw the home of Abraham Lincoln, also to Greenfield, Indiana, to the home of James Whitcomb Riley. I drank from the foun- tain in front of the house. Through Ohio, West Virginia, to Pennsylvania, stopping at the Get- tysburg battleground, where we camped all night. For miles in every direction were monu- ments erected by the different states and divisions in honor of their men. In three days we were home, having covered 8,000 miles in two months. ONLY A TRAMP By Daniel Connelly, ’2S HE tramped into the sleepy Maine village in the afternoon. Previous to this, he had chopped wood at a house on the outskirts cf the village and had received break- fast and dinner—they still call it that in Maine —for his labor. Then he had left and soon came into the little village itself—Maineville. The town was just waking out of the long afternoon siesta and the tramp was immedi- ately the target of all eyes, as he shuffled along the main street. He was of indeterminate age, but had light blue eyes, that were continually twinkling, and dark brown hair, which was covered by a ragged cap. He twirled a heavy stick rapidly in his right hand after the man- ner of a band leader. The town constable strode pompously into the street and ordered him on his way. ‘The only place we have for tramps is the lockup ' said the constable. “Come on, Dusty Rhodes, beat it. The blue eyes twinkled a little less, but he smiled back and headed toward the river, which was a little above the town. As he left, the self-important constable went around nailing up signs that informed the expectant world— “No vagrants allowed. The next morning the whole town was awak- ened by the thunderous roaring of the river. A slight jam was growing to gigantic propor- tion and the whole village was threatened by the overflow. The jam would have to be broken! But how? To venture into that jumbled mass of logs was almost certain death, and many a brave man shuddered as he gazed at the teeming flood. Suddenly a figure leaped from the bank and, with axe in hand, climbed to where the key log lay. He hacked furiously at it until it gave way—then leaped for the shore. Too late! And the people on the shore hid their faces as ■“Dusty Rhodes went down to his death. In a certain Maine village stray tramps get a warm welcome and no one is called “Dusty Rhodes. TRAVELERS, STUDENTS, AND AUTOISTS Bv Lolly Moller, 523 CURIOSITY is a gift we all have, and some of us like to satisfy our curiosity a little about what our teachers did during the long weeks of the summer vacation. Space does not permit us to mention each teacher, but seme facts about them are too interesting to pass over. As a whole the teachers can be divided into three groups, the travelers, the students and the autoists. Miss Dodge may indeed be envied by all, for she had an enjoyable time visiting England, France, Switzerland, Belgium, Holland and Germany, and Mrs. Topliff also traveled con- siderably, going through England, Ireland and Scotland. Miss Woodward attended the National Edu- cation Association in Seattle and the World Federation of Educators in Toronto, and vis- ited three National parks, Alaska, the Great Lakes and Canada. Canada and the West also had two other vis- itors, for Miss Gray took a trip to Minneapolis, returning by way of the Great Lakes and Niagara Falls, and Miss Sutherland visited Yel- lowstone, Glacier National and other Western parks. Miss Hannon visited Bermuda, and Miss Mc- Allister, who began her vacation early, took a trip to Miami, Florida, afterwards spending seme time in Vermont. Quite a few of our teachers, among them Miss Campbell. Mrs. Mathews, Miss Sprague, Miss Solano, Miss Newborg, Miss Gatchell, Mr. Syl- vester, and Mr. Plantinga, were pupils instead of teachers this summer, attending Harvard, Boston University, and the Hyannis Summer School. It seems amusing to think that they, instead of us, had to think about getting their “home work in on time and do you suppose they worried about passing marks? Their ex- periences will, we hope, make them sympathize a little more fully with us when we come to class with unprepared lessons. There must be some fascination in motoring and vacationing in the northern New England States, for a great many of our teachers spent their vacation in this way. Among them were Mr. Avery, Mr. De Celles, Mr. Hall, Mrs. Flagg, Miss Tuell, Mr. Carrier, Miss Pratt, Miss Todd, Miss Lacount and Miss Burnham. As we have interviewed our teachers, we found that each one was doing what each thought would best fit him for the work of the coming year.

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SOMERVILLli HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 9 WESTWARD HO! By Albert L. Fisher, '28 THREE cars with eleven people including myself left Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, for Calgary on the way to Banff and Lake Louise in the Canadian Rockies. About twenty miles out of Calgary we had our first glimpse of mountains after traveling days and days on endless plains. We thought they were clouds, but coming closer we saw they were snow-clad peaks, towering thousands of feet into the clouds. After many miles through the alleys, always going upward, we arrived at the entrance to the National Parks of Canada. The previous day at Banff the Indians had a “rodeo” and now they were returning to their reservations. From there to Banff we saw hun- dreds of them, some on horseback, others in wagons, but all dressed in their native cos- tumes. We also saw dozens of papooses on their mothers’ backs. The older men and women could not be distinguished because of their manner of dress. With so much to amuse us we were scon at Banff, which is closed in on three sides by high mountains. We camped here all night and in the morning visited the hot sulphur springs for which it is famous. The water is piped so that one may drink or swim in it. We took the former. One drink was all I could stand as it reminded me too much of the experiments I tried to do in the laboratory with H2S. Lake Louise, one of the lakes of the clouds, which closely rivals Switzerland, is famous for its glacier. The glacier looks about one-half mile long, but when we asked we were told it was ten miles long. One can’t comprehend or compute the distances with such massive moun- tains around one. Then we went to Yoho Falls in British Columbia, which, I believe, are the second highest in the world and are fifteen hun- dred feet. While there we met two boys from Brockton and Springfield, who were with the Harvard Summer School studying glacial for- mations in the Canadian Rockies. On the way back to Lake Louise we stopped at the Conti- nental Divide, where the watershed separates, going in different directions; one to the Atlantic Ocean, the other to the Pacific Ocean. Here we took a drink of each. The hottest springs in North America with a temperature of 118 was the next attraction. Here we took a swim in the tank and when we came out we could hardly stand up because of its enervating effect. We then passed through the Sinclair Canyon, where the road is blasted from solid rock, and down, down into the level plains which led to the United States. All this time we had been driv- ing through perilous passes and roads cut out of the sides of mountains, which didn’t make us feel very safe to be on the edge of nothing and look down! My uncle absolutely refused to drive, so his son had to do all the driving through the mountains. We were certainly glad to get back to United States, as the roads in Western Canada are im- possible to describe. One day at Glacier Park was enough, as we had seen the same thing in Canada. At Butte, Montana, we obtained permission to go down into the copper mines. Donning coveralls we all got into cages and dropped 2,800 feet in the earth. I thought we were fly- ing we went down so fast. They showed us how everything worked, including the miners. It was so hot there that I have the impression I never want to go to the lower regions. Yellowstone Park came next. We entered at the northern entrance and camped at Mon- mouth Hot Springs, which are made up of steaming terraces and strange formations in different tints. Here also is the museum of all the animals in the park. Outside stands a petrified tree which had changed to quartz crystals and stone. We found all kinds of hot and cold springs throughout the park. In the distance a steaming geyser basin drew our at- tention and when we got out to look we found the ground warm and openings everywhere boiling or spurting water. The mineral matter that comes up with the water kills all vegeta- tion so that it is a gray expanse in the vicinity of the geysers. The paint pots are bubbling mud holes of different colors. “Old Faithful,” which is world-famous, of course attracted us. This shoots off every sixty-five minutes to a height of 150 feet and gives off so much steam we could hardly see the water. After it stopped I went up to the mouth and looked down. Noth- ing could be seen, but I could hear the water boiling. The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone is be- yond description, having a multitude of rare colors blended together in the rock. There are also two waterfalls, one of which is twice as high as Niagara Falls. We were at an altitude of a mile and a half most of the time. We passed out at the east entrance and camped near Buffalo Bill's home for the night. The road to Cody, Wyoming, from Yellow- stone is claimed to be the most scenic seventy miles in the world. It has many strange forma- tions made out of soft rock. The dam in the Shoshone Valley is like a cement wedge in a canyon forming a reservoir. Here also we passed through five tunnels under the moun- tains. We spent a little time at Denver and two days at Colorado Springs. Here we saw “Pikes Peak” and “The Garden of the Gods,” in which lies a petrified Indian. Leaving there we went to Kansas City, thence to Springfield, Illinois,

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 11 “ON TO PARIS!” By Grethell S. Simpson, ’30 ONE dark, rainy morning last May, over New York, there hovered a silver bird, dimly seen through the mist. For a moment it hung there, as if undecided, while the watchers below held their breath, and then it turned its nose to the East, toward the rising sun, whence lay the ocean, with all its moods, that can carry ships on its heaving bosom, or draw them down, battered wrecks, to the sandy floor, far, far, below the surface. It is the tomb of many brave men, part of them cour- ageous pioneers, and its waves hold the secret surrounding many tragic deaths. Over this dark, terrifying stretch of water the “Spirit of St. Louis” and the spirit of youth, also, winged its way. The pilot, a young lad, unknown, sat in the crowded little cabin where he was to stay for many long, weary hours. He had only bare necessities, as he needed many gallons of gas to carry him safely to his goal. When asked if it was true that he was carry- ing only a bottle of water and a few sandwiches, he replied:— “Yes, it is true. You see, if I get to Paris, I won’t need any more, and if I don’t get there —well, I won’t need any more either!” So the one-engined little plane carried only its gas and a twenty-five-year-old boy who was risking his life for the sake of his country. He was en- trusting his most precious possession to the controls of his silver plane. They said Lindbergh was lucky. While he flew over the land it may have been luck that carried him forth, but when he set out over the billowing ocean it was pluck, and pluck alone, that led him on and on to Faris. Later on that glorious day the sun came out for a while, and that cheered the people who were worried about the chance that Lindbergh was taking. But the older flying veterans de- clared that he never could do it, and that the foolhardy boy would soon turn back, while he had a chance. As time passed, however, mes- sages came from ships at sea that the plane had been sighted steadily flying towards Paris. Through the black darkness of the night peo- ple all over the countries of United States and France were listening anxiously to radio broad- casts, or vainly straining their ears for news of his safety. But when no such word came fear and pity for the tall, slim young flier filled every heart. Saturday was a wonderful sunny day. Warm and summer-like it seemed a true May day. But people feared that Lindbergh had not sur- vived to see the sun again. All through the morning nerves were tense, and then, just a little after noon, word came that the plane had been sighted over Ireland. That afternoon excitement ran high, and wild enthusiasm filled the country. Wno was this Lindbergh who had nearly reached Paris? People filled the streets in front of the news- paper offices waiting to hear the first word of success or failure. Then came the great mo- ment. At 10.21 p. m., Paris time, or 5.21 p. m. in this country, the hundreds of thousands of people waiting at the Le Bcurget flying field suddenly saw, in the circle of the searchlight glare, the shining plane, that with its single passenger, a lone flier who had braved all dan- gers, had finished the history-making flight across the Atlantic! Three moments later, ra- dios all over the country here were telling the jcyous news, and by 5.25 people knew in the United States that four minutes ago “Lucky, Plucky Lindbergh” had landed in Paris! Every- one went crazy with joy, shaking hands with total strangers. “Lindy” had made it, and that was all that really mattered! Another joyous time was had when “Lindy came home. Washington, New York and every other big city gave him the biggest reception that has ever been given a man. And “Lindy proved himself to be the wonderful lad that the country thought him to be. Quiet, unas- suming, he kept that calm, unruffled composure that is one of his greatest qualities, while the world went wild over him. “The Glorious Kid” never lost his head once, but was cool and col- lected the whole time. He gave a new signifi- cance to the word “We,” and has made that word stand for more than the little two-iettered word ever did before. He appreciated the fact that the people loved him, and he was glad, but he wanted to take his plane and fly back to the quiet, happy life that he left before his great adventure and achievement. It has been said that the American people are cold and set in their ways, that nothing can move them and they are incapable of showing any great emotion. The reception that we gave “Lindy” shows this to be untrue. Emotion reigned supreme and showed the world that we are warm and patriotic, and that we care for more than modern, material things. They say that Lindbergh is the good old-fash- ioned type. He is not. He is the ideal of mod- ern youth. He is the greatest man and hero of the time. No one could be more modern than this clean, handsome young fellow, that everyone admires. His courage, his confidence, his self-control, his absolute lack of conceit, and his patriotism have endeared him to every heart. “Lindy” was asked for a verse that expressed his feelings, and he contributed the following lines from a famous poem, that helped him for- (Continued on Pa e 19)