Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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SHOULD EIGHTEEN-YEAR-OLDS BE GIVEN THE VOTE? Betty Short ’54 If a youth of eighteen is obliged by law to serve in the armed forces of this country, with the possibility of sacrificing his very life, is it not just that he should have a voice in the management of the government he is obliged to serve? You say that he does not have enough knowledge or experience in such serious matters. Yet today’s eighteen-year- old, in most cases, has a high school education (more than many adult workers can boast); and through his part-time work, he has some experience in the business world. He has learned the procedure of voting in his studies dealing with civic functions, and he has had his dress rehearsal for voting by participat- ing in his high school elections. Having lived eighteen years in this present age means that enough worldly experience has been acquired for the youth to be able to distinguish between good and bad, right and wrong. If he is unable to make these dis- tinctions at eighteen, it is doubtful that he will ever be able to make them. Therefore, it is logical to accredit him with the ability to discern between candidates, and to vote wise- ly. Since he has the ability, let him use it —give him the right to vote! Then, you argue that as a voter you have to pay taxes. Ask any eighteen-year-old what you will about taxes. “Oh, yes,” he’ll tell you, “I know about taxes. I pay them, don’t I?” He pays them, and in most cases, having no dependents, a larger percentage of his wages are taken for taxes, than is taken from most adults. Any person earning $600 in a tax year is subject to taxation, in- cluding eighteen-year-olds. Since a large ma- jority of them help to support the govern- ment, they are entitled to have their say as to how their investment in the United States should be used. Most states sanction marriage at eighteen. The older folk will undoubtedly agree that marriage is no joke. It has more than its share of responsibilities. Good judgment and common sense, along with compatabilty and affection are required to make a success of it. The younger generation is doing an ex- cellent job in this department too. If they are mature enough and levelheaded enough to run a modern household, usually complete with television and family car, they are cap- able of voting. If an adolescent violates the law he is taken to a juvenile court and branded as a juvenile delinquent. If eighteen-year-olds vio- late the law they receive the same treatment as older people, and are punished as the law prescribes that an adult man or woman should be punished. When they have done wrong, they stand as men and women in the eyes of the law that judges them. Must they break laws and become criminals to be recog- nized as an adult? Of course not, you say. Then why aren’t they recognized as young adults intelligent enough to discuss world affairs, to take interest in their surround- ings, to vote. Between the adolescent of eighteen and the adult of twenty-one lay three short years. Physical growth will continue for a few years after eighteen; mental growth never stops; but moral growth has usually been estab- lished. The number of pounds a man weighs at eighteen and at twenty-one may differ; the opinions he has at eighteen may have changed or been revised at twenty-one, but his ethics and morals have remained constant. The time is ripe, and the young men and women of eighteen stand prepared to vote, awaiting only the green light. It is the just measure to be taken and the inevitable one. (The staff welcomes more student ideas on this subject.) THE BAND If you have attended any of the football games, you certainly have been impressed by our band. Bandleader Arthur Bizier has brought new life, new maneuvers, and many changes. Two new bass drums have been pur- chased, and the Art Club has painted the symbol of the band on each. And, believe it or not, at last the new uniforms have been purchased! According to the contract they will be ready for the Thanksgiving Day game with Waltham. Five

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TRIBUTE TO MISS NEWBORG News of the passing in September of Miss Bernice Newborg saddened both the faculty and the student body of Somerville High School. In deference to her memory, school was closed at 11 A.M. on the day of her funeral. Miss Newborg, a teacher of typewriting and business organization, had been a mem- ber of the Somerville High School Faculty for thirty-five years. During this time, she had won many friends among her faculty associates and students. Her co-operation with pupils and faithfulness toward her work endeared her to all who knew her. IN MEMORIAM TO GERALDINE SHAW Somerville High School was saddened by the passing of Geraldine Shaw, whom death claimed before she was able to complete her senior year. Gerry was in the college course preparing for a career in nursing. Since her health would not permit her to participate in many activities, she chose to devote all her energy to her church, its youth fellowship, and to the Somerville Rainbow Assembly. The many friendships that Gerry made during her short but full lifetime were re- vealed by the large number of persons who paid their respects at her funeral. Besides her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Franklin Shaw, she leaves a brother, Frank, a sopho- more at Somerville High School. A DREAM REALIZED Once again the pupils of S. H. S. are talk- ing hopefully of a home stadium. It has been announced by city officials that work will finally begin on the new Dilboy Stadium about the first of December. For many years our football teams have played their entire schedule away from home. Many times the squad has been called “The Orphans of high school football. If all goes well and the official prediction holds true this will be the last “farmed-out” year for the S. H. S. “orphans. The 1954 season should find our teams playing in one of Greater Boston's most modern stadiums, located at the site of our present Dilboy Field. The architect’s plan for the new structure is handsome indeed. It includes the latest conveniences for the spectators, the newest facililities for our teams and the most modern sprinkler system for the upkeep of the field. We are certain that our future athletes will take advantage of this “psychological factor as the newsmen call it, and bring to Somerville as much honor through their renewed efforts as the new stadium will bring pride. Furthermore, we have no doubts that the football and baseball fans will show their pride in Somerville and in the teams by swelling the attendance at games to all-time records. It’s not far off: In the meantime, every- one is keeping his fingers crossed and quietly dreaming of the day when the Red and Blue will take the field of the new Dilboy Stadium. Four

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Stoned an J£ WHEN THE CAR BROKE DOWN Beverly Conn ’55 Jean was getting fidgety, and Frank knew why. He buttoned his collar up against the chilly evening air. It wasn’t so late, but he’d promised Jean’s folks that they wouldn’t be gone long, and parents just don’t seem to un- derstand that their kid’s cars actually can run out of gas, once in a while. He sat on the fender, and gazed at his antiquated jalopy. Suddenly it began to rock, and Jean’s voice came to his ears. “Come on, Frank,” she called from behind the car somewhere. “Maybe we can push this thing to the top of that hill ahead, and roll down. It’s a steep one, remember?” “I hadn’t thought of that,” he answered, as he joined her. It was quite a job to get the car rolling, and the rough bumps and the in- cline of the road made it even more difficult. “Just a little farther, Jean.” “Okay—” Gee, she looked cute with her scarf tied that way. “Get back to business,” he repri- manded himself as the car neared the top of the incline. “She’s beginning to roll—hop in quick, Jean!” “The hill’s steeper than I thought,” she shouted. Frank’s answering grin turned to a frown as he struggled to get in the door. “Put your foot on the brake!” “Which pedal?” “That one!” “Now hold the wheel while I get in!” Jean clutched the wheel, as Frank squeezed in the door. “Okay,” he breathed, and Jean sat back, a little dazed. “How did you like your first driving lesson?” “Don’t be funny.” But the worst part was over and she smiled. They were halfway down the hill and picking up speed again, but Jean didn’t mind the bumps. If something didn’t fall apart, they ought to be able to coast to the car tracks before long, and the 9:45 trolley was due in twenty minutes. She might be home in time, after all. Suddenly the wheel wrenched out of Frank's grip, and the car thudded into the banking at the side of the road. Frank looked awfully sheepish. “I don’t have a spare tire,” he said. Oh, well, it was a nice night for a walk. SNEEZER’S GAWLIC WAR Richard Howe ’55 I, Quintus X. Sneezer III, the mighty con- sul of Rome, having finished my consuling for the day, found myself heading home, whistling to the gay tune of “Little Blue Rid- ing Hood.” All of a sudden my chief scout came galloping down the street, his mane flying in the wind. He came up to me, breath- lessly shouting the ghastly news that our Gawlic neighbors were crossing the River Rubbercorn to declare war on imperial Rome! With great haste I ran to the home of our Army bugler and got him to toot the stirring notes of the call, “Assembly.” In no time at all, about three hours, our entire Army was together, 150 strong, and prepared to march against the Gawls. We piled into Army trucks, as pack horses were not yet invented, and buzzed off to the Rub- bercorn. We were soon in sight of the Gawlic troop. They were ready for us, however, and opened fire immediately. As we were being bom- barded, one of my lieutenants was heard to Six