Saint Marks School - Lion Yearbook (Southborough, MA)

Page 18 text:

HUM L , K 'M' mi if ' Do not handicap your children by making their lives easy. R. Heinlier

Page 17 text:

COVER STORY Farmer, Bradley Run Away I The casual visitor to South- borough, Massachusetts will find no lost African maidens, no Bel- gian secret agents with Socialist ciphers tattooed on their upper thighs, and no hordes of Siamese nobles bathing in chocolate s rup. Indeed, the residents of this slleepy New England hamlet would never expect to see a full-scale Com- munist attack launched on them. Nor do they. What they do see, and what the day-tripping tourist often finds nestled in t e rotting elms, is the idyllic Saint Mark's School, noted for turning out young men of Christian character for almost two thousand years - young men for whom African maidens, Belgians and the Siamese nobility are things unknown. I Two of these young men - one of whom, actually, knows a little about Belgians - are Charles Wal- ter Bradley and Thomas Ian Farmer, both Americans. Depart- ing Saint Mark's School after three years, they leave in their path an unprecedented wake of violence and destruction, both physical and emotional. As they sunned them- selves on a warm spring day last week, their reactions to their grad- uation were typical: My address, snorted Farmer from his air mattress on the school's charred but still tradition-steeped quadrangle, is 9 Chandler Street, Lexington, Mas- sachusetts. But only because it has to be in the yearbook. He sipped an avocado julep slowly, and mumbled about common rodents. A X E 3 And mine, slurred Bradley, noted for his predilection for left thumbs, Socratics, and old rain- coats, is Route 1, Box 63, East Burke, Vermont. Asked whether they were happy to be leavin the ivy-covered walls of St. Maris, Farmer grunted, yes. But his companion, mumbling his dissent, said: No. The conversation then degener- ated to talk of Belgian secret agents, this tack prompted by the arrival of William Stewart, a third senior. Though their opinions may dif- fer, the St. Mark's adult adminis- tration is both unanimous and voi- ciferous in its feelings towards them: it is glad to be rid of them. Speaking last week at a press conference in the now-de unct Statler-Hilton, Headmaster Robert Hansel, blinking at the hot televi- sion lights, said, My God, they're finally leaving. I'm so happ . I've never been so happy. They're graduating. Thank God. It's a mir- acle. Well might he speak. Since the burning of Benson Auditorium last March KTIME, Apr. D during extensive renovation work, Farmer and Bradley have gone on a reign of terror which included everbody withing striking distance. Despite this, their combined list of accomplishments is astonishing. Charles Bradley, an editor of the Vindex and an outstanding voc- alist, both verbally and musically, is the only student in the school's history to go through his school ca- reer without owning a single shirt. He also claims to be Head Monitor. CThis was not substantiated by TIMEJ Farmer idly points to his post as Managing Editor of the St. Marker, the semblance of same with the Vindex, and chapel work fsee photoj as proof of his attendance at St. Mark's. He, too, claims to be Head Monitor. fThis was con- firmed as completely untrue.J The two were part of a larger group of heretics with no common name, but which included Phil Kadinsky-Cade, James Williamson, the aforementioned Stewart, Robert Hadow, and others too numerous to mention. A rightfleftl right group dedicated to vacations and Chinese food, they became legendary for their Wednesday I v. fd evening rigatoni wars, events which earned them the dubious ti- tle, damned idiots. Described by the Dean of Students only with a series of undecipherable mumbles, the group was the unacknowl- edged leading light of the school, to themselves at least. Also, they stayed away from athletics like the plague. Despite their self-sufficiency and a quality approaching solipsism, Farmer and Bradley pronounced themselves grateful to several peo- ple at their graduation ceremony. Among these were Phil, Iamie, Chris, the Penthouse 4, Ed, Bill, and faculty members Messrs. Weedon and Engel. Farmer added the names of C. Irwin, his fourth form roommate, and Miss Thomas, who was Qseriouslyl a good and kind person in every way. Bradley wanted to add the names of Mr. Foy and Mr. Sheppard. After being handed their dip- lomas by a relieved Mr. Hansel, the two left St. Mark's for the last time, still arguing about whether or not they were happy to be leav- ing. Their future plans are clear. Bradley was planning to organize an expedition to try to find the Brooklyn Bridge using government funds, while Farmer planned to at- tend Dartmouth College and com- plete his forthcoming dictionag of the dol hin language CRan om House, 512.951, However, even as their armored limosines rolled down the school drivewa past the television trucks and phallanx of reporters, there was still one more playful prank left. In their own cheerful and slightly sentimental way, and by remote control from miles away, Thomas Farmer and Charles Bradley said goodbye to the school building they loved so well by detonating it.

Page 19 text:

, 5 .F V, ,.,.,,,- H: lf., - Donn A Prefect, Organist, Pianist, Scholar ,, Thanks to: Mr. Wales, Mr. and Mrs. St. Marker Business Manager, Head Crew 3 Li 0 E' 1 1 U '5 5 1 Sheppard, Mrs. Barber, Ir., Mr. Gaccon, Manager, Librarian President, Calligrapher, U ,. LJ 5,1 Mr. Carey, Mr. Rader, Mr. Grew, Mr. National Merit Commended Student, Model b D fl K '77 and Mrs. Evill, Mr. Clement, and Railroad Club Founder, Chapel Boy, Editor Ex-Headmaster E.T. Hall. Blue and White, I.V. jogging, Fives ,QQSEFXXQQX Also gn ICFB Willbxur, Yeldialrgb, Remraf - , - thei iot i era, ett an ea. A Liberal: Someone who spends ,gf YS 'G iffy , , , And to those brats in Dorm A, everyone's money but his own, IBB JE If.-1' who made my Senior year , , , 'm' itll interesting Carter is as phony as a three dollar bill IBB t X- ,f 59 D - h , h W D 4 Rest in Peace: Punctuality, pride, stability i ff! I was here before Red iris i fizfaajy .i8vaef', fitffifg it O we gfif g ' F fi. Casey said just before he died, They're just two more roads I'd like to ride. The fireman asked, What can they be? The Southern Pacific and the Santa Fe. Put on the water and shovel on the coal, Put lyour head out the window, watch the drivers ro l. Run her till she leaves the rails, 'Cause we're eight hours late with the Western Mail. Casey looked at this watch, and his watch was slow, He looked at the water, and the water was low Casey turned to the fireman, and then he said, We're gonna reach Frisco but we'll all be dead. Mrs. jones had on her fair and fine, When she got the news that Casey was a dyin'. She said to her chilluns, Hush your cryin' You've got another daddy on the Salt Lake Line.' and religion. St. Mark's had four great friends, whose death was not accidental.