St Thomas More High School - Utopian Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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listening to radio programs, or from watching sporting events or other spectacles. But he con- cluded by encouraging us to look at the world about us, the everyday world of family, friends, and chance encounters. Before beginning my own assignment I took down my Webster Dictionary from the shelf to look up the definition of the word personal- ity. Personality, said Webster, is distinct- ness or excellence of personal and social traits. Distinctness or excellence -these were not quite the same thing. There were people in my own neighborhood who had very odd traits, but these traits did not always proclaim excellence. At length I selected a person who seemed to me worthy of discussion-one that I thought would be of interest to my classmates. This essay does not concern itself with my own attempt at a character sketch. Rather, the essay had its origins in the personality sketches of the other students. Not in the sketch of this or that particular student, but in all of them taken together. For the next few days in the English classes there was summoned to my im- agination a most remarkable gallery of portraits. Students had observed the people about them, and certain of these people had made indelible impressions upon them. Through the sketches of my classmates I met priests, policemen, trolley motormen and conductors, milkmen, neighbor- hood characters, friendly and unfriendly employers. It is interesting to note that of the priests who were sketched for us one was a pastorg another, a curate: a third, a professor, and still another, a missionary father. It seemed to me a good thing that priests were high on the list of interesting personalities, for it established the hope that some of our own classmates may some day be inspired with a vocation. In one or two cases there actually were celeb- rities. One of these was Joe Di Maggio, the great Yankee slugger. True, this was only a brief 60 . and casual meetingg nevertheless, it constituted a thrill that any boy of our own age must envy. The other celebrity-one not known to most of the boys, yet a personality of world renown-was Mr. William Kincaid, the first fiutist of the Philadelphia Orchestra. The student who made his acquaintance is himself an ardent student of the Hute, and it can be well imagined what inspiration he must have received and continues to receive from this acquaintanceship. Of the numerous neighborhood characters, the one which stands out in my mind most clearly is the ancient bearded gentleman who seemed to spend all his time perusing books in a neighborhood branch library. According to his biographer, the library was this old man's uni- versity and he seemed to be a person of inex- haustible lore. He had a quaint philosophy of life-one that incorporated the principle of non- work-and just who he was or how he managed to get along without money no one seemed to know. Of course there were the students who, not feeling competent to deal with people they actually knew, resorted to what I can only call a second-hand acquaintanceship. These stu- dents chose such personalities as Dan Seymour with the friendliest voice in radio, Arthur Godfrey, whose nonchalance is the delight of fans and the terror of sponsors, and Sid Cesar, whose ability to project himself into real-life situations has almost made him a mirror of humanity. But in the end it was perhaps just the ordinary people who made the greatest impact. Since most of us, vocationally speaking, are destined to be ordinary-the milkmen, policemen, and day laborers so vital to smooth running of our society -it is encouraging to note that we too can foster those elements in our personality which make us not only acceptable but inspirational to our fellow man. THE UTOPIAN

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Lancaster Road passes directly in front of Haverford College. Beyond Ithan Station the Old Lancaster Pike crosses Church Road, which leads to St. David's Church, built in 1715. Not far from Strafford, along the Sugartown Road, is Waynesborough, the home of General Anthony Wayne, the Revolutionary hero. Wayne is bur- ied in St. David's churchyard. Two miles away from the Wayne mansion is the site of the Paoli Massacre. During the pre-Civil War days this general area provided numerous hideouts for the fugi- tive slaves who came north in search of escape from their intolerable serfdom, and Lancaster Pike was an important link in the Underground Railway. All along the road there were secret stations where these hounded refuges were hid- den, rested and fed. This is by no means a complete history of Lan- caster Pike, but is should be enough to whet the appetites of those who would know more. It would still be an adventure to follow in the path of Roger Brooke and explore the wonderful places of interest on the Pike's sixty-six miles. Why not oil your bike and fill your knapsack Pl0Pll ARE and see where the well-wom avenue which brings you to school will eventually lead. All of its glamor is not concentrated in the area of Durha.rn Park. POPUlAR NE OF OUR English assignments in the earlier part of the term was the preparation of a brief talk entitled, The Most Interest- ing Personality I Have Met. The real object of the assignment was to get us through the initiation of speaking before the class-and a pretty rough initiation it is. There were, of course, the usual mutterings when the subject was assigned, but after a little discussion with the English professor the topic seemed a bit more promising. Some of the stu- dents had complained that they were inexperi- THE U TOPIAN . BY JOHN McNAMEE, '51 enced and could not be expected to have made even the passing acquaintance of celebrities. It was then that Father explained that interesting personalities did not have to be celebrities at all, and that we might not even have to go out- side our own homes to discover someone who was truly interesting. He went on to remind us that even if we did not know any interesting personalities in real life-a supposition that he did not think very likely-it was still possible that we had met interesting personalities in our reading, from .59

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ua! a PllASlIIll CRUISE O SAY THAT he looked impressive, even in a T-shirt and blue dungarees, is to register my first impression of the man who stepped from the dock to the deck of my boat that day in Hawaii. Though of only medium height, he had a massive pair of shoulders. He wore his Navy ofiicer's cap with an ease that suited well the clean-cut lines of his weather-beaten face. A wisp of soft black hair was visible under the visor. His voice suggested a military training. Are you the owner of this ship, Mr .... uh? Masters is my name, I told him. Matty Masters. How do you do, he continued. My name's jim Malone. While waiting for my reply, he slowly surveyed. the ship. It looked good to him. Yes, I said, I own the Blue Dolphin. What can I do for you? I want something about this size for about a month's voyage. At the moment I am not pre- pared to pay the fanciest price, though I will look after the provisions and a few extras, and maybe, when we get back, do a little better. In fact, if my venture succeeds and I like this ship, I may be in a good position even to buy her at a right handsome price, just for pleasure. I realize that all this doesn't make much sense, but if you will settle for the over-all picture, it's about what I have in mind. With no immediate plans, and with a bank account that was but a shadow of what it had been when I came to the islands, I decided to listen. Go on, I said. Our destination would be Luoano, ex- plained.Ma1one. Ever hear of it? If you mean the island to the south of the Carolines- That's right. Been there, by any chance? No, I replied, but I know of the place. We THE UTOPIAN . BY WILLIAM C. McGINNIS, '51 won't need a month to get there and retum. True enough. However, I have some business there which- Here he broke off momentarily, then went on to explain that a short stop-over should be profitable to both of us. His casual manner somehow led me to the conviction that this was to be no more than a pleasure cruise with a touch of business on the side, possibly to collect an old debt or something. Why he had picked my ship was no profound mysteryg the fewx others still in port that summer afternoon were owned by natives. As I said, he impressed me: maybe that wasiwhy, despite the loose ends, I shook hands with him and closed the deal. The next morning, after a sound sleep, I came on deck to see a cloudless sky, and Malone trudg- ing up the dock with a large box on his shoulders. Several even larger ones on deck showed why he was bathed in perspiration. He must have got an early start. In fact, he seemed a bit impatient that I was apparently unready to set sail. I read his thoughts and assured him that in another hour we would be under way. I counted upon his having provided at least enough supplies to make Luoano, where it would be easy to replenish our needs, if necessary. Malone came aboard, dragging the last of the boxes after him. From his pocket he pulled an old rag with which he wiped his brow and arms. My references to wind velocity and favorable directions met with his instant approval. Since I talked with you last, he observed, I learned something that will make an early arrival highly desirable. I wondered, but said nothing. By the way, he continued, if you have no objections, I would like a young friend of mine to accompany us, a native boy named. Siki. Know him? .61