Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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THE DESPERATE TRY Cordon Norman '63 Being only five feet, five inches tall, Don Norton thought his chances of making the basketball team were very slim. But he was determined he would make it. Having prac- ticed faithfully all summer, he was now ready. One Friday the news came from the loud- speaker that all candidates for the basketball team should report to the gym on Monday. Don made a note of it on his pad, and con- tinued with his studies. Monday arrived. He had just finished tie- ing his sneakers and trotted onto the gym floor. In the midst of comparatively gigantic boys was little Don. “Oh no!,” he thought to himself, “I’ll never make this team.” One of the taller boys turned to his friend and said, “That short boy over there hasn’t got a chance.” The coach, completely overlooking Don, picked some boys for a scrimmage. “O.K., I’ll see you all tomorrow,” said the coach. After a few days, the group was slowly de- creasing, but Don was still eligible. The coach had to cut one more boy from the squad. Although Don was trying his best, it looked hopeless. The final scrimmage before the last cut. This was it. Playing guard, Don was nervous. Because of this he dropped a pass which led to a basket for his opponents. He was sure now his chances were exhausted. Then, with a minute left, he plunged for a loose ball, recovered it, dribbled to the basket and made a beautiful lay-up, winning the game. Lining up for the final cut. the boys all prayed silently that they wouldn’t be the one cut. With sixteen uniforms in his hands, the coach approached the boys. One by one he passed them out, coming to Don, he handed him a uniform and said, “Congratulations. You played a fine game. It was now the night of the first game. As the players pranced upon the court, among them was Don Norton, who looked ten feet tall. JEWELS OF THE SEA Elizabeth Glines ’63 Collecting sea shells is now a nation-wide hobby. There are some 100,000 species to be found, not only those along the beaches, which are brought in by the tide, but in rivers and ponds. Their variety in shape, color and size is amazing. Many classes of shells occur in the animal kingdom, varying in size from minute organisms to large formations weighing 500 pounds. The outermost layer of a shell is a hard skin. The middle layer is the thickest. The innermost layer is thin and has a porcelain gloss. This part of the shell may gleam with a pearly luster, glow with a delicate pink, or glisten with peacock blues and greens. From this layer comes the mother-of-pearl used in buttons, jewelry, tool handles, and orna- ments. Here the true pearl is formed. Within the shell of a mollusk there is a soft body, a heart, stomach, liver and kidneys. Sea mollusks breathe through gills. They often have delicate senses and a keen sense of smell. Without dissecting these creatures, we can- not distinguish the male from the female. They can be very much like flowers, which are commonly male and female at the .same time. Flowers may also be all male or all fe- male. Mollusks may be made up of any of these strange arrangements. Certain shells are so beautiful that they are worn as jewelry by many people. Shells also travel from one country to another by means of scientists and museums who trade them. If we would just walk along the shores and pick up a few of these shells, we would come to realize all the other beautiful things God has put on this earth for our enjoyment. A most fascinating fact is that they are un- limited in quantity and without cost. Twenty-six

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MY DIFFICULTY IN WRITING ESSAYS Paul Massigilia ’63 Thus far in the current school year my literary achievements have been confined to the nonexistent. This deplorable (as any self- respecting English teacher will agree) con- dition is not due to any lethargy on the part of my English teacher; on the contrary, to our class there have been assigned both an essay and a short story, neither of which I have turned in at the appointed time. My record, unequalled within the confines of my English class, is chiefly due to the man- ner in which I perform my assignments. I seat myself at a table with a ream of com- position paper at my left hand, a gross of well-sharpened pencils at my right, and a dozen erasers in front of me. Thus fortified, I remain seated for two hcurs while I draw isoscles triangles, and regular hexagons, letter my name in old English type, write the Lord’s Prayer in Ger- man, and construct magnificent paper air- planes. At the end of this time (when I have either run out of paper or become buried with the above-mentioned pastimes) I give up, ex- cusing myself by saying that I’m not very persistent by nature as that too much think- ing is bad for my health. Actually, my imagination has not lain bar- ren all this time. However, it works in exact- ly the wrong direction. For instance, if it is an essay which is assigned, I perform my calisthenics with the pencil while the plots of countless short stories run rampant in my brain. While thoughts of the ancient Romans, chiva'ry, charging Ghurkas, and gangsters manufacturing Swiss cheese with machine guns pervade my mind and I invent a lover to make Romeo seem like an empty beer bot- tle, I am totally incapable of having opinions upon anything. When a short story is the order of the day, conversely, I have profound thoughts upon all things, but I cannot think of even a bad plot, were I to fortify myself. My English teacher offered what seemed a solution when she suggested to our class that we should write whenever we felt so inclined. I tried this and found that laziness is one of my more dominant traits of character. I write these lines, not in any plea for sym- pathy, but I do hope that some philanthropic assassin will read them and undertake a cru- sade to stamp out English teachers. Just in case, I have English period I in room 245. THAT FATEFUL NIGHT Rosemarie Farina ’63 I remember those carefree days of long ago when, as a child. I watched my older sis- ter dress for a date. While I sat on the bed, with my eyes glowing, she very carefully ap- plied mascara, eye shadow and numerous other beauty aids. I dreamed of the day I would dress for my first date, (that fateful night). I devoured books overflowing with sweet princesses and kind-hearted fairies. I sat through movies that gushed with love and romance. I was a romanticist in the true sense of the word. I imagined my date as the epitome of all Prince Charmings. His clothing would be im- peccable. Brimming with personality and hu- mor, he would laugh through the night. A mental image of his car loomed before me. The glistening white paint dazzled my eyes. It sparkled from fender to fender. The plush atmosphere of the restaurant we would dine at delighted me. Soft music floated to every table. My common sense, dulled and clouded by dreams, was cast aside. As I approached my sixteenth birthday “the” night arrived. I treasured every long, elaborate hour that I dressed. And then the doorbell rang. I opened the door, gazed at his scuffed sneakers, patched dungarees, sport shirt, disheveled hair, and staggered back. Meekly I whispered, “Hello.” With a snap of his chewing gum and a grunt from him, we departed. Before I knew what had happened we were on a crowded bus, fighting for a seat. This was my Prince Charming? ? ? The plush restaurant was Joe’s Pizza Place! The wail from the jukebox shattered my ear- drums. Later, at home. I realized how childish and foolish I was. I was waiting for someone who existed only in books. It was a hard-earned lesson, one I will never forget. Twtnty-fiv©

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THE LONE SURVIVOR Nancy Donahue ’61 My life story has been a continuous strug- gle for survival. I am a very healthy, sturdy freckle. But alas! I am doomed. Since I be- gan, I have survived all the treatments that I have been subjected to on many and varied occasions. These treatments were supposed to kill or obliterate me. But I am still the same bright, scintillating freckle. I first made my appearance in this cruel world on a sparkling clear day at the beach. I materialized on the cheek of Lady Jane. The name I have changed to protect the in- nocent. She was a very beautiful woman with a fair complexion, marred only by some of my relatives and friends, who occupied very prominent places on her cheek. Of course, existing on a woman’s epidermis is much more hazardous than on a man’s skin. My life has been jeopardized since birth by vanishing creams and soaps. Certainly, inhabiting such a conspicuous place as the face is the reason for the many attempts at our lives. My twin was noticed with lugubrious threats, long before I was because he was of a prodigious size. Lady Jane screamed many vile epithets at us! My family and friends were called pig- ment stains!! We were pointed out as para- sites! Can I help it if I am a parasite? But life was not as black as I have painted it. We gained delight from our games and each other’s company. We often played “Ring Around the Nosey,” but at night only. When Lady Jane’s friends came to visit here, we renewed acquaintances with fellow freckles who lived cn visitors’ blocks. Unfortunately things took a turn for the worst. Lady Jane consulted dermatologists and other specialists concerning us. They used bleaches, paints, cover-ups, whitewashes, and everything imaginable. We were pricked, sprayed, lathered, and painted. All this was in an attempt to kill us or at least cover us up. And many of the weaker freckles were slain. But we tenacious freckles held onto our lives. Yet we were doomed. The experts thought of surgery and operated. I am the sole sur- vivor of that terrible torture. My relatives and friends are now long dead, “But sturdy and staunch” I stand. Since now only I mar Lady Jane’s beauti- ful complexion, she has redoubled her efforts. She looks everywhere for something with which to kill me. Now she has a miracle cream supposed to kill cr obliterate any unsightly moles and freckles. She has said she would apply it to me sometime today. The reason I decided to tell my life history is . . . Help! Help! the cream!!! I’m suf- focat—...!!! A FEARLESS EXPERIENCE Janice DiNoceo 64 One Saturday morning, my mother told me that she had made an appointment for me with the dentist. Hearing this I tried every way to make her break this appointment. But mother would not give in. So after lunch, father drove us to the dentist. When we ar- rived at his office, father let us off and mother and I went in. After hanging up mv coat I went over and sat with mother. I soon became impatient as my fear grew stronger. At the same time a slight chill ran through my spine. I tried reading, but it didn’t do much good. At this point I was ready to go home. When I was called upon to be next, I left my seat, still a little shaky. As I went into the doctor’s of- fice, he said, “Hi,” and told me to be seated. Looking around and seeing all the large in- struments, my fears became stronger than ever. The doctor washed his hands and checked my teeth carefully. When he had finished, he said that my teeth were in good condition and he said he would send me a card in six months for another check-up. Hearing this my heart returned to normal and I became quite steady again. I said good- by and thank you to the doctor and went out to mother, who was waiting for me. I told mother the good news about the condition of my teeth and we both headed for home. Twenty-seven