Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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N. E. S. I A. CONVENTION Congratulations to Beverly Conn! At the annual New England Scholastic Press Associ- ation Convention this bright and beautiful Somerville High School Senior won a $1,000 scholarship to Boston University by competi- tive examination! The Convention, held on November 12 and 13, was sponsored by the Division of Journalism at Boston University. Beverly received the scholarship for her writeup of the panel and floor discussion, en- titled “How the High School Publication Can Help the Community. Our own “Radiator” received a magazine award “For Superiority in Editorial Content and Make-up.” On Saturday morning the convention fea- tured seminars in journalism headed by in- structors of journalism at Boston University. The Awards Luncheon took place Satur- day afternoon at the Dome Room cf the Hotel Lenox with Mr. Donald M. Murray, a member of the Editorial Staff of the Boston Herald as the guest speaker. Mr. Murray re- ceived the Pulitzer Prize in 1953 for his out- standing series of editorials on our national defense. Following Mr. Murray’s speech the announcement of the scholarship, newspaper and magazine winners closed a very success- convention. TIME Elaine Kotell ’56 Time is an intangible thing, which usually isn’t there when you want it and when you don’t want it there is too much of it. At the end of a test period or on the night of the prom, one wishes he had more of it. On a night that hangs heavy or when one has done something wrong and is about to receive a lecture, he wishes there were none. A person about to die thinks back and says, “How I wish that I had had time to do so many things! I have wasted my life on mak- ing money and trying to get ahead of others. Because of this I had no time to spend with my family or to have any recreation, or to acquire many friends. Now, as I am about to die, I realize how little time there was and how I could have made the most of it. Please, God, give me more time!” Remember, few of us have a second chance, so spend your time wisely. Absorb what knowledge you can, for your period of learn- ing is short. Have your fun and be active now, for soon you will be earning a living or raising a family. Don’t forget — use your time to your advantage! THE HARVARD BOOK PRIZE The Harvard Prize Book, which is offered in competition by the Harvard Club of Bos- ton, is awarded each year to the outstanding boy of the junior class, in the college prepar- atory course, whom the headmaster and faculty consider most worthy in respect to high scholarship and character. Last June at a school assembly Mr. Giroux presented Robert Carlton with the Harvard Book Prize. The Book which Bob received is an an- thology from three centuries of Harvard history, and it contains the writings of many of the most famous authors and poets in English literature, who were graduates of Harvard University. Among these are Samuel Eliot Morison, Cotton Mather, George Santa- yana, Cleveland Amory, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Charles W. Eliot, Edwin Arlington Robinson, and Charles Dickens, to mention just a few. The Harvard Book Prize should serve as an inspiration to the members of the junior class to attain a good scholastic record, and maintain strong character; for it is an honor and a privilege to be the recipient of such a high award. Five

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WHEN SHALL WE LEARN Paul Heneghan 55 As Michael Washington Kelly left the new Edward Paton High School in Upton, Maryland, he wondered if he were dreaming. For years he and his fellow negro students had been forced to go to school in an old house on the far side of town; but now, here he was going to the new school for whites. He had been attending classes for over five weeks without any trouble, and it look as if the whites had finally accepted him and his friends. Michael started over to the gym for track practice. On the way he met Jim Richardson, and they talked over the coming meet with their arch rival, Nicholson High. Three years ago Nicholson High was opened to both white and negro students, and since then they had smashed Upton's hope of being District Champs every year; but this year with the change in Upton’s rules it looked as if Nichol- son High would be trounced. With the speedy six foot Michael Washington Kelly who was breaking records in nearly every meet, and last year’s star, Jim Richardson, who was attempting to set a new high jump mark for that district, it looked impossible for Upton to lose. However, four days before the meet a white boy and a colored boy had a fight over a called third strike. The following day a group of white boys refused to return to school, but everyone thought the trouble would blow over. It didn’t. The next day, over fifty per- cent of the students refused to enter the school as long as the colored students re- mained. The track coach started to worry. What coach wouldn’t, seeing his chances for a championship fade before his eyes? On Fri- day, the day before the meet, the police were needed to protect the colored students going from and coming to school. The coach made a desperate attempt to get the members of his team to return to school. Then he asked Nicholson High to postpone the meet, but Nicholson, even though they wanted to, couldn’t, because all the remaining dates were taken. The coach, one who would never say “no”, took the only possible course. He asked the remaining boys, who were all colored, to compete in the meet. The boys said “yes”, and so all that afternoon they practiced. On Saturday they met Nicholson High and really beat them. The final score was: Upton 52, Nicholson 25. The white students of Upton High realized their mistake, and on the following Monday they all returned to school. “I disagree with every word you say, and will defend to the death your right to say it.” —Voltaire. May liml qivi! us strenijtli tn insist every tyranny liver the mimi uf man. Four Till! Staff

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LITERARY I SAW THE VAMPIRE JOSEPH DONNARUMA '55 . . . would he become another of the vampire's victims? The night was dark, and the wind cut the rain in icy sheets. When I was on my way home to my furnished apartment, I heard the scuffle of feet, the sound of choking, and then a scream that echoed through the night. I saw the crime! I was the only witness! By the light reflected from the wet, shiny street, I saw the face of the vampire with his long fangs and his bat-wings as he mauled his victim. I held my breath and choked back the de- sire to scream for help! I tried to hide, but it was too late. He must have sensed my presence for he turned and saw me. For a moment I though he was going to attack me, but instead he backed away. His giant wings fluttered, and he swooped off into the night. I stood there paralyzed for a few minutes, unable to think or run. My stomach was all tied up in knots, and the sweat rolled down my back. The victim was still alive! I knew I should call the police and tell them what Pd seen. Somewhere deep inside me a warn- ing voice stopped me. Conflicting thoughts pulled me in both di- rections. I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly I came to a decision. I disregarded the dying man’s plea and ran. I didn’t know which way to go. It seemed to me that every doorway might hold the creature I wanted to avoid. I ran toward the main street where there were lights and people hurrying back and forth. Still I had a strange feeling that the vampire was following me. I felt eyes staring at me every moment. I wasn’t conscious of the di- rection or distance, but as I turned a cor- ner I found myself home. I ran up to my room and shut the door. As I pulled down the shade on the window, I saw a figure under the light across the street. I was terrified. My mind was crowded with scenes of the vampire’s chasing me. Days passed, and I was afraid to leave my room. I could’t sleep for fear that someone might enter during the night. There was no food, but I didn’t dare go down to the store for groceries. Daily I was growing weaker. Suddenly on the third night after the mur- der I heard the door slam downstairs. The landlady screamed as if she had seen some- thing inhuman. The stairs creaked as it climbed closer and closer to my room. The door opened, and the blood ran cold in my veins. I gasped when I saw it wasn’t the vampire, but the man I had left to die! JULIUS CAESAR S DAY AT S.H.S. ELI DEMETRI '56 Dear Brutus: I, Caius Julius Caesar, materialized in a city called Somerville at eight-fifteen this morning. I roamed around the city until I came to a magnificent building situated on the top of a hill. I stood there at the portals admiring the scenery, when at eight twenty- nine and one-half. I heard the sound of run- ning feet. I whirled around and saw a wild crowd charging down at me. Suddenly everything went black! When I awoke I found myself lying in a long corridor. There were doors on all sides. I started to get up when I saw, standing Six