Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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I ITFMk LJ I LI AI Jlww. THE WALL Leo Kelly ’63 John Montagne gazed down at the gold eagles pinned very carefully on the shoulders of his dark blue dress jacket. It was only six months ago that he had joined the militia, and now he was a full colonel on his way to his first command. Although he wanted to believe this quick promotion was due to his own initiative, he realized that, as a direct descendant of the great William Montagne, he was to be subjected to favoritism by the High Command. William Montagne was one of the meager fourteen-hundred survivors of the missiles, the nuclear bombs, the fallout, and the countless other weapons of destruc- tion, which over seventy years ago, during World War III, had wiped out a whole civil- ization. Being sixty-three years old, and the eldest of all the survivors on our side of the war, William Montagne had been elected the first Supreme Ruler of the new democracy which had been formed. He was the man who had led the rebuilding of the western democ- racies and issued the order for the construc- tion of “the Wall.” The Colonel’s trend of thought was then interrupted by a raspy voice at the back of the coach. “Sandonburg, next stop!” He gathered together all his belongings and sat back in the soft chair, trying to get a better view of the town as the train pulled in. “There it is; not very big,” he thought to himself as he eyed the pleasant little houses in neat rows and, off in the distance, a few tall build- ings which designated the army post which he would soon command. A young lieutenant raised himself to at- tention and saluted curtly as the Colonel stepped off the train. “I’m Lt. Walsh, sir; welcome to Sandonburg.” Returning the sa- lute, Col. Montagne thanked the lieutenant and stepped into the long, black, staff car which already had the motor running. The car started with a roar and sped along a well- kept highway. As they drove nearer to the post, Montagne could see “the Wall” clearly. It was huge and ominous looking, about the height of a seven or eight story building. He had read about it many times, but this was the first time he had ever seen it. After the war, this wall was built to separate East from West. No treaty was ever signed. No attempt at friendship was made. The “enemy” simply went back on their own side and were never heard from again. That is how it had been for years, and that is how it probably will be for years to come. “The Wall.” stretching from the North Pole to the South, slices its way through many lands, such as Finland, Germany, Tur- key, Arabia, and parts of Africa, and works up along the Pacific Coast of the Americas. No one knows what is on the other side of “the Wall” and no one likes to think about it. If there is still some life on the other side, no one will know it. It is against the law to approach “the Wall,” and the militia is al- ways there to enforce this rule. Lt. Walsh showed the Colonel around the post and then led him to his new office. It was small, but modern and very well kept. After dismissing Walsh, Montagne sat down in the comfortable chair behind his desk. Be- fore him, through the large, picture window, he could see “the Wall.” Just to think of what may lie beyond there sent chills up and down his spine. It was too remote to even imagine. Now, several months later, “the Wall” had Twenty

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HAVE YOU MET? DEAN MOTTARD ’(»2 After graduation the U. S. Air Force Acad- emy may be lucky enough to have Dean Mot- tard honor them by becoming a cadet. Dean, who has dark brown hair and dreamy brown eyes, goes ape over medium-rare steak, Chi- nese food, adventure stories, and girls. He’s football co-captain, a baseball slugger, track speedster, National Honor Society member, and Student Council President. His favorite subjects are gym and biology. He has also worked as a carbonic engineer. And that is the story of the Immortal Dean Mottard— May his luck never end. MARY DONAHUE 62 Lively and full of fun, that’s Mary Dona- hue. Her key to popularity is her winning personality and zest. How she finds time to GEORGE MACROKANIS ’62 What would we have done without George? This remark has been echoed through the halls of Somerville High School many, many times. George is probably one of the most talented people in our school. He is President of the National Honor Society, Art Director for the Radiator and Yearbook, member of the Art Club, and Somerville High School Glee Club, and T.C.A. This friendly, quick- to-smile boy stands 6 feet tall, has dark brown hair and flashing brown eyes. His favorite studies are Art, Latin and French. He’s cool on fiction books and Greek food. In between all his activities he is entertaing tall, foreign type girls. If the girls don’t get him, college will. Good luck, George!! Good luck, girls!! Mory Donohue George Mocrokonis Pamela Kneeland be the secretary of Portia, vice-president of the National Honor Society, and a faithful member of the Radiator and Science Club, we’ll never know. Mary likes listening to the music of Ray Charles and Dave Brubeck. while munching on her favorite foods—Toot- sie Pops and Hamburgers. She plans to go to a boarding college preferably Newton Col- lege of the Sacred Heart. Recently she was the recipient of a letter of commendation for outstanding achievement in the National Merit Scholarship Exam. Her excellence in scholarship is perhaps overshadowed only by her excellence in golf and her ability to twist. We all know that whatever Mary decides to do she will be a success and we wish her all the luck in the world. PAMELA KNEELAND 62 Blonde-haired, hazel-eyed. Pam Kneeland is sure to be one of the girls who will go places later in life. We often wonder how she finds time to participate in her various ac- tivities. She’s President of Girls’ Glee Club, Vice-President of Student Council, Secretary of Players’ Club, a member of S.H.S. Glee Club, on the Library. Yearbook, and Radiator Staffs. This Latin scholar digs books with good character sketches, and she likes ambi- ti:us boys. Someday Pam would like to at- tend college and study journalism or social work. Judging from her past performances we know she will make a success of it. Nineteen

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taken on a new meaning: to Montagne. For hours at a time he would sit at his desk and stare at the huge, gray structure. “The Wall’s” very presence had an unnerving effect on him. He was constantly tormented by nightmares depicting himself up against that man-made colossus trying frantically to sur- mount it, and, finally, “the Wall” would crum- ble and fall to the ground, crushing him into oblivion. The question that wall presented frightened him and drove him to the brink of insanity. But he kept all this to himself. Even Walsh, now a captain, who had helped the Colonel in his hardest times, and had befriended him, did not realize that this man was being torn apart inside because of one thing — “The Wall” — the huge, gray wall which presented a challenge to Montague; a challenge that he would soon answer. It was a dark, foggy night. Col. Montague crept cautiously from his quarters and headed straight for the fog-shrouded edifice. He had to find cut what was on the other side. He had to, or it would drive him crazy. He stopped for a moment at the base of “the Wall.” It seemed so high and beyond reach. He started up, clawing his way, hanging on to protruding rocks, wedging upward through weather-worn cracks, until, finally, three quarters of an hour later, the top was within his grasp. He sat for a moment on the edge looking back down at the city. The sun was coming up behind him, and the rays shone down at Sandonburg. Here and there, he could see a car or truck, its operator probably starting an early work day. It all seemed very remote from the top of “the Wall.” Montagne stood up and started walking the couple of hundred yards to the opposite edge. “Soon I’ll know the answer,” he muttered to himself. The sun was shining brightly on the East. He looked down. “No! No! How could they?” he gasped out loud. He jumped away, a look of horror, mixed with fear, on his face. He started running back. He kept running faster and faster. He couldn’t stop. Capt. Walsh was an early riser and the first to find the Colonel lying at the base of “the Wall.” He knelt down beside the body of his superior officer. Montagne’s facial ex- pression was one of fear and horror, yet, in his staring eyes, a look of understanding could be detected. Walsh could tell what had happened there and a twinge of sorrow over- came him. “He knows,” the Captain said looking up at “the Wall.” “He alone knows.” HOW THE OTHER 30% LIVE James (Montana) Curry ’62 The newspapers say that seventy percent of the people of this country live in cities. That leaves only thirty percent who live on farms. These are just dull statistics. But the thirty percent statistic has a special interest for me. For most of my life I have been a member of that 30% • I was born in the town of Ekalaka, Mon- tana (population 1,000) and have spent most of my life on a sheep ranch in that vicinity. Ekalaka is located in the southeastern corner of the state, not far from where Montana, South Dakota and North Dakota all meet. This is a stock-raising region. There are a great many cattle ranches here, and Carter County is very high on the list of wool-grow- ing counties. Some wheat and a little corn are raised, but the main agricultural crop is hay. Carter County has an extreme climate. I myself have experienced temperatures of 110° Fahrenheit and —50° below. Almost every winter we have severe blizzards. The worst snowstorms I can remember occurred in 1949. Many isolated ranches were snowed in for weeks. Our summers are usually pretty hot and Twenty-one