Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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stars. The giant moon keeps a silent vigil over this peaceful scene from its home on high. Homes across the whitened fields seem like mystic castles—touched, transformed by fairy wands. Silently, as if in a trance, I don my coat and hat and step out into this wonderland of darkness. As I stand there, intoxicated by the enchanting splendor of the night, I hear a host of voices from above, “Peace on earth, good will toward men . . . ” THAT’S LIFE Annette Thibeault ’58 “Buzz Walker, don’t you ever speak to me again!” “Gee whiz, Joan, what did I do?” “Oh, nothing, you just about ruined my life that’s all!” “But I don't understand,” he said with be- wilderment. “Don’t bother to call for our date tonight, because I never want to see you again.” “Joan, calm yourself. This isn’t the place to pick a fight. Maybe if you’d tell me—” “I’m ‘Miss Freeman’ to you from now on,” she interrupted. “Good-by, Mr. Walker.” With that she left Buzz staring after her very confused. “I wonder what’s got into her,” he mut- tered, as he headed for home. “I wonder if she’s sore because I paid more attention to the movie than her last night, or maybe—” “Hello, Dad,” said Buzz sullenly. “I didn’t see you coming.” “No wonder, why so glum?” “It’s Joan. She started fighting with me and I don’t know why. Did Mom ever act this way? I mean before you were married?” “Sure, lots of times. It got so that every time she did, I’d go out and buy her a birth- day present.” “Gee, Dad,” beamed Buzz. “Maybe that’s it. May I have my two months allowance in advance?” That night Buzz went to Joan’s house. He looked like an entirely different person. He had a box of candy in one hand and a little package in the other. A minute later, Joan answered his knock. At first sight of him she cried angrily, “Buzz Walker, I thought I told you—,” then sweet- ly, “Oh, are those for me? How nice! You remembered after all. Come in!” “Gee, Joan, as the saying goes, ‘It’s better late than never.’ Happy Birthday!” “Birthday! My birthday isn’t till next month. This is our anniversary!” “Anniversary? But we’re not married!” “Silly, you don’t have to be married to have an anniversary. Just one year ago today you first smiled at me, remember?” “Oh, for goodness sakes! Why didn’t I keep my big mouth shut? Two months’ al- lowance gone out the window—just because I smiled at her a year ago! Oh, well that’s life!” POOR ME, I’M ABUSED Carol Amann ’58 Isn’t it true that someone is always forc- ing someone else to do something? Mothers, for instance, can create a real big problem! It seems that whenever a poor teenager like me wants to do something, there’s always something else to do at home. Take for instance last year when our junior dance was coming. It was two weeks before the dance and I didn’t have a date. Well, I invited Joey Brown to my house one night to hear some of my new record albums. Of course it was one of those big conspiracies that women plot when they want something and I had it all planned. My new sweater was laid out on the bed all ready to put on. Then, Wham! My mother decided I had to help her at the church supper that night. What could I do? The supper wouldn’t be over until about nine. You know how after the meal they always ask someone to say a few words. Well, if I got out by nine I’d be lucky. So I made a few telephone calls, and about five calls and my new sweater later every- thing was settled. Janie was to help my mother at the church and I’d at least have my chance. The night came and I began to get im- Tcn

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THEY NEVER BELIEVE ME Nancy Resmini 58 The morning was cold and dreary, a typical November morning. Mark Graham pulled himself out of bed with a disgusted sigh. He was at odds with life in general, school life in particular. As he leisurely walked to school, contemplating truancy, he discovered he had wandered into the alley where the “gang” usually gathered. Since the alley was deserted, he sat upon an empty crate and began to think. Suddenly he perceived what looked like a small boy, but peculiarly, this little boy was no ordinary lad. Mark addressed the stranger with a customary “Hi”, but in reply received an inaudible murmur. Was Mark’s imagination playing tricks, or did the stranger have a greenish complexion ? To his surprise this unexpected guest lured him towards a balloon-like contraption and, before he realized what had happened, the contraption had raised itself into the atmos- phere with Mark and the stranger inside. Mark rubbed his eyes and, as he took a second glance, found himself in a planet more cold and dreary than that which he had left. This new planet appeared at first to be uncivilized, but before Mark could come to a definite conclusion a band of little men, carrying what appeared like over-decorative staffs formed a circle around him. They spoke a foreign language which was incom- prehensible to Mark, yet by their smiles and nods, Mark knew that they were friendly. Despite the cold atmosphere this foreign place was warm with hospitality, and Mark was treated like an ambassador from the United States. Touring the new planet, Mark found every- one harmoniously singing while working. What a peaceful nation! After finishing his tour, Mark was invited to dine with the leader of these men. This “Headman” pre- sented to him a symbol of good will, a chain with a golden olive branch. As Mark reached for the chain, his vision became blurred and he found himself once again on the crate in the dusky alley. Looking up, he found a husky, mean- faced character glaring at him. It was the truant officer! Mark suffered the punishment for truancy and the mocking remarks of those who heard his story. Where had Mark been? Or was it just a dream? Judge for yourself, but consider all the evidence, especially the olive branch chain which hangs about Mark’s neck. It reads, “Peace on earth, good will to men!” (Teacher’s note: I have considered all the evidence and I am fully convinced that Mark made the trip.) REVERIE Louise Price ’58 Snowflakes cover the cold, silent eai’th with a glorious carpet of white, as yet un- touched, untrodden by man. The treetops and hedges are arrayed with this same white mantle; the trees are stately and majestic in their winter finery. The gentle winter wind is whispering sweet nothings to the heavily- laden branches, revealing its secrets through- out the wood. The sky above is a sea of impenetrable blackness, studded with myriads of dancing Nine

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patient. Joey was due at seven thirty and by eight I began to get mad. At nine I headed for my room completely miserable. But after a certain telephone call I had more reason to be mad. But this time it was myself. You might be wondering what happend to Joey. Well, of course, he had to help out at the church supper! What else! A SAI) STORY Evelyn Ells ’58 It all began one afternoon when my charm- ing sister Doris swiped my peanut-butter sandwich. Happening to see her out of the corner of my eye while I was getting a quart of milk, I quickly slammed the refrigerator door and also closed Benjamin Alexander Hamilton Ells I’s tail in the door (Benja- min is my cat who always runs to the re- frigerator door when it’s opened). In my haste I left him there and went tearing up- stairs along the upper hall after Doris, who reached her bedroom and slammed the door in my face. Hearing a faint “meow,” I re- membered Benjamin and zoomed down the hall towards the stairs, slid down the ban- nister, and landed on a pillow left there for this purpose. I jumped up and reached Ben- jamin in two seconds flat. He was cared for promptly. Since I needed something to do to keep my mind off the sandwich, I trailed upstairs to my room and tried to pull out the table drawer in order to get Chlorine’s fish food. As luck would have it, I pulled the whole table over. The gold fish bowl on top smashed to the floor and Chlorine disappeared down the register. When the supper bell rang, I again flew down to the kitchen. During the meal I choked on a chicken bone and Doris, seizing the opportunity, pounded me on the back un- til I was black and blue. After supper and an unsuccessful attempt to steal out without doing the dishes, I pain- fully climbed the steps to my room to tackle my German. I though I was playing football and tackled the ink bottle on my German book. Angrily I snatched up the “Radiator,” flopped on the bed, and fell asleep reading a “Sad Story” by Evelyn Ells. THE FIRST SNOWFALL Joanna Michel ’58 He will not mind me stopping here To wotch his woods fill up with snow. From Stopping by Woods By Robert Frost Walking along on a chill November eve- ning, I glanced at the bare, upstretched arms of the trees which only a few short months before were covered with leaves. I thought how gaily the colored flowers had bobbed their dainty heads in the warm summer breeze and then how slowly they had withered with the coming of autumn. As I gazed about me, I realized that Nature was getting ready for another season — winter. One morning soon, people would awake to find that Nature had performed one of her most splendid works. They would behold the first snowfall of the year. The roof tops would be covered with snow against the pale blue sky. The whole town would be wrapped in a blanket of sparkling whiteness. Afterward, children would be heard as they gaily enjoyed sledding, skating, snow- balling or skiing. The youthful artistry of freshly built snowmen would soon be evident. As I was returning from my walk, all these things came to my mind. Then sud- denly to my amazement, I realized that while I was walking, tiny white flakes of snow were starting to fall. Though I had not noticed it before, the upstretched branches of the trees were no longer bare but were slowly being covered with glistening white snow. Yes, the long months of anticipation were over — the first snowfall of the season had come! Eleven