Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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THE CHURCH BELL Richard .Marlin ’60 The church bell is ringing. In loud, lively tones; It seems to be saying, “Get up, lazy bones.” The children are strolling, They all look so neat; The bell calls their parents. In church they will meet. Its sound is so thrilling, We speak not a word; It vibrates so loudly. For miles it is heard. A PICTURE OF YOU William Barrow ’60 A picture of you For one of me, To have through life As a memory. We swap our snaps With friends and foes And on the back The Blarney flows. Though full of praise They will have sung Of golden days When we were young. HALLOWE’EN Isabelle Warnock ’59 The sound of children’s laughter Drifts through the door to me And takes me on a tour back to A childhood memory. When goblins, ghosts, and witches too, Seemed real enough to touch And Hallowe’en had seemed to me To mean so very much. I think now as I sit here. Of all the time gone by, And melancholy thoughts provoke A carefree little sigh. As I hear their hearty laughter To me it really seems That I am just a child once more. For just this Hallowe’en. THANKSGIVING Isabelle Warnock ’59 We have so much in this dear land of love and liberty That we often forget the ones less fortunate than we, Those, who oppressed in foreign lands are struggling every day To gain the freedom we here now possess in every way. Some of them are hungry and have no place to stay And it must be faith that holds them up along their lonely way, And so as our Thanksgiving Day draws near, let us resolve That we shall not deny their pleas but for them to strive to solve With all our strength and vigor the problems that we see Until on next Thanksgiving Day the whole world may be Because of all our strivings, as thankful as are we. PRELUDE Janet Resteghini ’59 Around me trees are gray and bare, Winter will toss her silver hair. And sing to us her icicle song, Of days that are coming, cold and long. Hurry, my children, can’t you hear? Gather the apples and pumpkins near. Chop the wood and put it around Before tiny snowflakes cover the ground. But as you are working, little ones, Be not too happy and gay. For our dear red and gold friend, the Autumn Is slowly passing away. UNPOSSESSED Janet Resteghini 59 Eyes of Egypt, slant and green, Tell me what your depths have seen ? Have you traversed far and wide, On yonder hill and countryside? Tell me your story, my little cat, Have you tangled with this and that? I can only sit and wait. And never scold when you are late. For a cat is a noble and intelligent thing. That no one can own, for joy to bring. So all his life he will wander free. And can never really belong to me. Fifteen

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ers, and fixing the radio if necessary. I’ll ex- pect you at eight o’clock sharp.” “Now, wait a minute. What about my car? Just look at it!” she pouted and ran to the window, “It’s--------It’s-------Her mouth dropped in amazement. THE TOP WAS UP! “I finally got the button in working con- dition again,” he said, “The rain didn’t even reach the pedals. “But---------” she continued. “Don’t forget, eight o’clock sharp!” With that, he pulled his coat up around his neck and ran down the street. Helen didn’t sleep well that night, for Pete's handsome face and sly smile haunted her. Eight o’clock came quickly for her. She dragged herself out of bed and started down to Pete’s house. Pete was already waiting when she arrived. “You’re late!” was his first remark. He said not even good morning or how are you. I could be dying on my feet for all he cares, she thought. Helen stood there staring at him, hiding her anger. He came closer to her, and her knees trembled. He came so close, she could feel his breath on her cheek. Sud- denly, he took her hand and as he did this, her heart began to beat widly. Then Pete stood away and said, “Now, get busy.” Anger flared up in Helen when she looked at the hand he had so gently touched and found suspended from it a bucket and a sponge. Helen worked all morning, bailing all the water out of the car, cleaning the interior, and mending the seat covers. Fortunately the radio wasn’t damaged. When she was finish- ed, she walked up to Pete’s door and rang the bell. Pete came to the door and Helen walked up to him with dreamy eyes and said, “Pete?” Pete stood staring at her and said, “Yes?” “Pete?” she said, her hand sliding up to his neck. Just like a girl, he thought. As he bent forward, Helen pushed the wet sponge in his face and said, “Pete, you need a towel.” Pete stood there watching her fly up the street with her hair blowing in the breeze and her laughter still echoing in his ears. Helen didn’t see Pete at all after that day. Finally, the night of the party came, and Helen sat in the parlor anxiously waiting for her blind date to arrive. At eight-sharp the door bell rang. Helen ran to answer it and as she opened the door, she stared into the sly smile of Pete. “Pete!” she exclaimed. “Is all forgiven?” he asked, extending his hand in a friendly gesture. Turning her head she replied, “Of course. I’ll get my coat.” She timidly handed her coat to Pete, and he help- ed her on with it. As they walked to his car, Helen thanked her lucky stars that the night was dark enough to hide her excitement and most of all her blushes. SEASON OF PLENTY Janies Kakos ’60 It’s harvest time and the cornfields are golden, the mellow days are short, and the sunset is a misty red. The farmer is proud of his crop and is content with his year’s work. The smell of burning leaves, the sight of sparkling dew on the bright orange pum- pkins at dawn, the wisp of fragrance from the kitchen, mean it’s Thanksgiving time once more. Relatives come from far and near —cousins, aunts, uncles, and a few friends. While pies are baking and turkeys are bast- ing, the old and young sit down and talk, waiting for the feast of Thankfulness. Fourteen

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WHICH WAITER? Mary Andrade '60 Dark haired, brown-eyed Susan Parker was sluggishly yawning. She had not been able to catch two winks of sleep all night. The alarm sounded at three o’clock, remind- ing her, as she jumped out of bed, of the two months of enjoyment to come. She had been waiting five months for this day of departure for Europe. As she fumbled with her bath- robe, she ran out of the darkened room, bumping into luggage parked in the hall out- side her room. She was so excited she decided to slide down the bannister, something she had never before attempted . . . There she was at the base of the staircase, feet up. She happily re- trieved her stand, skipped into the kitchen, and simultaneously rendered an unusually cheerful good-morning to her mother and father, and gulped down her breakfast, for they still had a six-hour ride from Boston to New York. Upon arriving, at Pier 88 where they were to board the T. S. S. Olympia, they admir- ingly looked at what was to be their home for six days. There it was, like a floating pal- ace with the rays of the sun illuminating its new coat of white paint. Susan and her mother were so infatuated with this sight that they almost forgot to bid farewell to poor Dad, who for two months was to enjoy the European trip vicariously through Mom’s and Susie’s letters. “Good-bye, Daddy, and I’ll miss you, and don’t forget to feed the kittens and don’t for- get the canary and be a good boy.” “Good-bye, Susie, Be a good girl and please don’t think up any new schemes about any- thing.” “Okay, Daddy, I promise.” “Good-bye, John. Don’t forget to write. Take care of the house. Don’t forget to write. Good-bye, dear.” (SnifT) “Don’t forget to write.” “Good-bye, Helen, Be sure to enjoy your- self and don’t worry about the house.” “Good-bye.” “Good-bye.” “Good-bye.” “Good-bye.” At six o’clock Susan was comfortably rest- ing in her stateroom after a fatiguing day of riding and unpacking. “Susan, are you coming to dinner?” “I will if I can get out of this comfortable chair.” “Well, you’d better hurry. It’s almost 6:15 and I don’t want to miss the first dinner of our trip.” Susan and Mother arrived in the dining room at exactly 6:15. A pleasant-looking young man, dressed in a spotless white dinner jacket, approached them and designated to them a table at the far side of the room beside a window over- looking the peaceful Atlantic. When they were comfortably seated with the help of their waiter, a tall, elegant creature, as Susan referred to him, with a grey jacket, black trousers, a white shirt and a black bow tie, gave them the menu and took their orders. As he left Susan said, “Mother, I’m in love.” “Oh, Susan, we just came aboard not more than four hours ago. Who could you possibly be in love with ?” “Really, Mother, I can feel it.” “My dear child, who are you in love with this time?” Sixteen