Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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Cover Design by George Stourinos '66 Literory 3 Dione, Be Brove Joyce Roberts '66 3 A Wanderer's Autumn Doy Fausto DiTullio '66 5 One Autumn Night Donald Tims '65 6 A Just Reward George Harrington '66 7 A Place to Dream George Horrington '66 8 My Niece Ann Marie DeBueriis '65 8 A Possing George Horrington '66 8 Oh How Great Democracy Is Dole Tribcr '65 8 A New Politico! Poll Allan Howe '65 9 Disaster Drill Dale Triber '65 11 Nationol Merit Test 12 Nationol Convention of Student Councils 12 Boys' State Benjamin Levy '65 13 Girls' State Dianne Clark '65 13 Opinions on the N. Y. World's Fair Noncy Wiswoll '65 14 Senior Chatter 16 Junior Chatter 18 Sophomore Chatter 21 What's Doin' 24 Have You Met? 26 Sports 27 H0N0IR AND PROGRESS LOOKING TOWARDS CITY HALL FROM THE GYM

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THE RADIATOR SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL 82nd YEAR OF CONTINUOUS PUBLICATION VOL. LXXXII SOMERVILLE, MASSACHUSETTS FALL, 1964 Entered os second closs motter ot the Post Office ot Boston, Mossochusctts. Subscription rote: $1.50. Contributions of writing ond drawing ore welcomed from ony student in the High School. They ore accepted m occordonce with the needs of the mogozine ond ot the discretion of the student staff. Advertising Rotes per issue: 1 poge—$50.00; Vi page—$25.00; Vi page—$12.50; Vk page $5.00. Editor-in Chief ALLAN HOWE '65 Business Manogcr BENJAMIN LEVY '65 Student Council Representatives LINDA WRIGHT '65 MARINELLA NANNINI '65 VICTORIA ELLIOTT '65 RICHARD HALVERSON '65 DONALD TIMS '65 DALE TRIBER '65 NANCY WISWALL '65 MICHAEL EDELSTEIN '66 Contributing Editors CATHERINE FERRANTE '66 GEORGE HARRINGTON '66 KATHLEEN KORZENOWSKI '66 MARIE PARZIALE '66 JOYCE ROBERTS '66 CHARLES SHUBOW '66 SHIRLEY SOTIROS '66 MR. HUGH McCUSKER Business Adviser MR. ALBERT GIROUX Headmaster MISS OLIVE 8. MacPHERSON Literary Adviser

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DIANE, BE BRAVE Joyce Roberts ’66 Although it was only 7 p.m., the June sky was completely dark and there seemed to be little hope that there would be a break in the steady downpour. With mixed emotions Diane watched her family leave. Too bad she couldn’t go with them, but she was nursing a miserable head cold. This was the first time that she had ever been left alone in the house for the eve- ning, and what a wonderful feeling; she felt so grown-up. After all she WAS fifteen and hadn’t she just recently overheard one of tne neighbors say that she could pass for seventeen? Just because she lived in the country didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of staying home by herself. She walked over to the stereo and put on a pile of soft, relaxing records, then curled up on the sofa with a book that had a book report due on it in a week. Just as the records had begun to play there was a knock on the door. Diane rose slowly from the sofa. “Whoever it is, certainly is perisistent’’, she thought. As she peeked through the window of the door, she saw a tall, slender man in a gray, weather-beaten overcoat. His hat was pulled down over his eyes to shield him from the downpour, and he wore a worried look on his too-thin face. I don’t recognize him she thought, as she backed against the wall. A startled expres- sion crossed her face as he continued to ring the bell. Must have seen me peeking through the windows she surmised. Sure sounds as though he thinks he ought to be let in. Maybe he’s a friend of Dad’s. Think I’ll open the door just a crack, and see what he wants. As the door opened, with the safety latch still locked he smiled. That smile seemed to spread from the even white teeth to the en- tire contour of his face. “May I ask a favor of you, Miss?”, he asked. “My car is stalled about a half mile down the road, and I would appreciate it if I could use your phone to call a mechanic.” She paused for a moment remembering her father’s warning NOT to let strangers in the house. But, who could refuse this man with the friendly smile? His voice was so soft. He seemed so harmless. After all it WAS raining and he said his car was stalled. He was all muddy and wet and the nearest house was another half mile away. Slowly she unlatched the door. Shaking off his coat and hat he entered. “Sure is a nasty night,” said the stranger. Diane nodded, unable to speak because of the sudden panic that spread over her. His soft voice went on pleasantly and his eyes still smiled as he spoke, but she couldn’t help from looking at the ugly red scar that started at his right eyebrow, plunging through the sandy hair to the crown of his head. “My name is Jim Brady”, he said. “What’s yours?” “I’m Diane Reddy. The phone is in the living room,” she murmured. The tall man removed his muddy rubbers and walked through the living room to the phone. Diane heard him dial a number and ask for the mechanic. What have I done, she thought, and the terror seized her anew. Three