Stoneham High School - Wildlife Yearbook (Stoneham, MA)

Page 26 text:

THE STONEHAM HIGH SCHOOL AUTHENTIC Class Wonder, Lj’dia Bagdikian Class Windbag, “Eddie” Adzigian Class Woman Hater, Roger Lamson Class Study, The Opposite Sex, Recess Class Favorite Jaw Exercise Wrigley’s Class Meeting Places, Corridors Class Sports, Chess, Cutting Classes Class Jail, S. H. S. Class Advisor, Wilbert Bancroft Skerrye Class Uncle Dudley, Earl Thomas Thi- bodeau Class Chaperone, Miss Lenora Bessey Class Judge, Mr. Watson Class Jury, The School Board Class Sentence, 4 Years in the House of Education Class Worries, All our A’s Class Hogs, The “Originals” Class Bankrupts, The Juniors Class Idiosyncrasies, The Sophomores Class Santa Claus, Stanley W. Hirtle Class Evolutionist, Frank Newell Eaton Class Romeo, Chester Neilson Class Favorite Miss Moore Class Lady’s Man, Edward F. Alden Class School Girl, Miss Poland Class Professor, Charles Taylor Class Lucky Day, Graduation Day Class Reward, That Long Sought Diplo- (Class |3ropi|i ' rg James E. Blenkliorn, Jr. In the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and forty-seven, I stepped forth to the little town of Stoneham in search of information, and remunera- tion. The month was July, the day, Wednesday, the time 2.30 and the tem- perature quite torrid. I was returning to Stoneham after some years of study and recreation in Paris, mostly recrea- tion. The first to greet me the third day of my arrival was Arthur Hovey, who ran his big butter and egg store in Central Square. He took me for a swim down to Duck Pond which was now the favor- ite summer spot for the Stonehamites. The water was quite cool, a great re- lief. The large beach, running paral- lel to the Fellsway, was the scene of amassed and tanned-up swimmers. But as I glanced around for sight of friends the only pebble on the beach whom I recognized was George Apalakis with an air-tight bathing suit on his bosom and a sign across the top reading “Life Guard.” He was saving lives by the dozens passing out mints called “Life Savers.” The next person I ran across was Raymond Schwartz, .owner of the Schwartz Company plant down on : Montvale Avenue, manufacturers of aeroplanes and the like. Ray, with his business-like appearance (smoking a cigar and thumbs outstretching the sleeves of his vest) said he needed a good man like me to advertise his plane. Certainly I could not refuse this oppor- tunity though as an aviator I am a bet- ter butcher. However, I could not af- I ford to let the offer fly by, so I accept- € ' d. My x lane, v hich was then shown me, was a three-winged contraption with six propellers (five just in case of emergency,) a cabin, and a large sign . outside marked “Schwartz.” Surely few ! jobs could be easier, merely flying around advertising an aeroplane. ; The day of departure came and my plane was tuned up to perfection. So I tightened up my belt, as I climbed into the cock-pit and imagined mj self diving off the pier of inconsequentiali- ty into the shark-infested waters of the future. With a whiz of the propellor I was soaring up above the skyscrapers of Stoneham Square and leaving the Montvale flying field behind, j The first ten hours of my journey 1 were the hardest but after that the faith- ful “Schwartz’” roared on with the bristling perpetuality of a genius. As I was passing over what I surmised was Michigan due to the number of automobile plants below, a fellow air- man passed by, Paul Gilman, the poet. As a result of the congested air traf- fic he nearly collided with my plane, being terrifically occupied in soliloquiz- ing on a new poem. His stenographer, Doris Jeffrey, was with him, taking things down as they came to that enor- mous mind of the master poet. Imag- ine it! So many vehicles in the air that it was highly desirable to put out one’s left hand when going around a corner. As the day was growing late, I decid- ed to land somewhere to spend the night. At the place of my landing, which by mistake was a cornfield, and ran across the corn ruining ear by ear, a little old farmer with a goatee on his chin came running out as though to kill. To my astonish- ment he said nothing but greeted me cordially for it was none other than Kenneth Gilson. For the rest of the [ 18 ]

Page 25 text:

GRADUATION NUMBER fore us. Wc wish success and happiness to our former teachers although you will prob- ably never have a class as clever and as studious as ours has been. We shall always think of S. H. S. with joy in the renieV.ibrance of the happy times we had together. 12- 27 has consumed the same amount of scholastic matter in four years as 13-’‘27 did in five years. There are 42 prospective Presidents, Lindberghs, and street-cleaners in our midst and also 34 prospective wives, old maids, and school madams in the class roster. The average age of the class is 17.32 years. If the total age of the class v ere heaped uj on one member that per- son would be just 261 years older than Methuselah. The person would have started his life at the destruction of Carthage. The average height of the class is 5 ' 6.33 . Supposing that each member of our group were placed one on top of the other they would tower 200 ' above the Pilgrim monument at Prov- incetown and would be one-third the height of Eiffel Tower, Paris, France. The class would also tower six times higher than our own dear temple of wisdom, Stoneham High. The average weight of the class is 126.33802 pounds. In comparison with Lindbergh’s Spirit of St. Louis the en- tire class weighs exactly twice as much of 5,000 pounds more than that plane. Class Athletes Charles Ford, Horace Chase and Aggie Eiley. Class Apollo, Ray Dodge Class Actor, Mac MacNeil Class Sheba, Eva Yeaton Class Atom, Joel Clark Class Aunti, Priscilla Taylor Class Artist’s Model, Alice Rhodes Class Air Gun, Olive Smith Class Atlas, George Young Class Audible Solomon, Kenneth Gilson Class Best Dancers, Jim Blenkhorn and Marion Govatsos Class Big Boy, George Apalakis Class Midget, Little Johnnie VanDerzee Class Baby, Li‘l Laurie Johnston Class Beauty, “Jinny” Learned Class Book Fiend, Russ Ringland Class Bachelor, “Rog” Lamson Class Chimney “Hoddy” Chase Class Cowboy, “Pick” Dillon Class Comedian, “Pat” Eagan Class Collegian, “Bob” Forrest Class Contortionist, Gladys Cameron Class Cave Man, “Joe” McGarry Class Chauffeur, “Dick” Metchear Class Cop, “Pat” Eagan Class Kandy Kid, Lillian Young Class Dude, “Jim” Blenkhorn Class Demureness, Anne Buzzell Class Dark Horse, Harold L. Lewis Class Dog Catcher, “Bill” Yorbeau Class Egotist, Esther Trainor Class Hoi eless, Lawrence Montague Class Frost, “Dick” Anderson Class Flirt, Mary Logan Class Heroine, Ruth Moody Class Hero, “Wott” Metchear Class Hothead, Velvin Alley Class Sophomore’s Hero, “Charlie” Ford Class Handy Woman, “Dot” Junkins Class Hopeful, “Dot” Tobey Class Heavyweight, “Art” Rotundi Class Iron Woman, “Dot” Jeffrey Class Innocence, Sylvia Linscott Class Icicle, Ivy Hodson C’lass Kreisler, “Rus” Ringland Class Janitor, “Bunny” Leavitt Class Sheik, “Johnnie” Kelly Class Man Hater, “Mil” Cosgrove Class Loudspeaker, Esther Trainor Class Most Popular Girl, “Wee” Clark Class Most Popular Boy, George MacNeil Class Most Bashful Girl, Helen Baert Class Musician, Weston Brannen Class Model, Alton Adelbert Brundage Class Megaphone, William F. Mahoney Class Mommo’s Boy, “Eggar” Patch Class Missionary, Rita Pettengill Class Noise, “Art” Hovey Class Nymph, Alice Kenney Class Nighthawk, “Bud” McCall Class Soap Box Orator, E. Harry Ad- zigian Class Optimist, “Gene’ Hale Class Old Maid, Flora Osborn Class Poet, Paul F. Gilman, Esq. Class Potent Pint, Mary Logan Class Pugilist, “Art” Rotundi Class Politician “Mitt” Whitcher Class Pretzel, Weston Brannen Class Roughneck, “Rus” Hodgman Class Shadow , Alice Crosby Class Strong Man, Ray Swartz Class Skeleton, Phyllis Whitney Class Tutor, “Ray” Dodge Class Tennis Champ, Ruth Murray Class Tomboy, “Dot” Newhall Class Tramp, “Ed” Roach Class Gossip, Edgar Patch Class Vamp, “Mil” Greenlaw Class Villain, Earl Potter [ 17 ]

Page 27 text:

GRADUATION NUMBER evening I was devoid of any speaking privileges, by the continuous speech of the farmer. Kenneth evidently knew plenty of business, however, and he filled my mind with good news of great interest. The small town we were in was called Onelung, in the state of Min- nesota. He told me that Sylvia Lin- Ecott’s latest novel, “The Death of King Jazz,” was just out; that Horace Ford (the only one in the class who didn’t begin his career selling newspapers) had hopes of making money on his pat- ented article called the “honest ouija board,” Fordy stated that it never lied. Mr. Gilson likewise informed me that Raymond Dodge ran his dance hall in Onelung and Eugene Hale was the very successful proprietor of a matrimonial bureau; Phyllis Whitney, several miles away, ran a doughnut shoppe and Lydia Bagdikian also open ed her doors to peo- ple who were in pursuit of hats, stock- ings, and other feminine apparel. The following day the sun came out with pelting heat, and I was anxious to fiy again so I might keep cool. It had been pretty sound sleeping in the Gil- son residence the previous night, except for the fact that the Gilson children howled continuously for ice cream, until Mrs. Gilson, who used to be known as Alice Riley, secured all day suckers for them. This example proved that all day suckers are just as faith- ful at night as in the daytime. The kids must have been pleased with them for they still had them in the morning. When we arose A1 had not j’et milked the cow, so her husband took me down ; town to eat. We went to a Cafeteria ! run by Anne Buzzell and her friend, Gladys Cameron. The home-made pies and steaks which w’e ate were not so i tough, in fact quite tender. As we left the restaurant a large, heavy stove-pipe rolled out of a passing truck and landed on Ken’s toe. A tall, rugged fellow, who looked to me like a plumber, jumped out of the truck. In- | deed he was a plumber and his name j was Roger Lamson. Roger laughed at : the farmer, and gave us a lift back to | the farm of Gilson. Saying good-bye ; to the town of Onelung, I flew on once : more with the effort of a Lindbergh, j While continuing my flight westerly, 1 j decided it would be a great achieve- ! ment to demonstrate the machine in California. Thence I grit my teeth, j opened up two motors and swerved j southwesterly with the state of Cali- j fornia as my destination. Eight hours of solitary flight brought me somewhere in the vicinity of my destination and I knew the Pacific coast was not far off. Below me I noticed a flying field. Heading downward with the assistance of gravity my intentions were to land in the center of the field, but the large crowd, which apparently was waiting for me, left me no room. They, there- fore, caused a forced landing in a near- by apple orchard instead of in the fly- ing field. As I descended toward Moth- er Earth my rudder struck the branch of an apple tree. Unfortunately Rich- ard Anderson, the big apple and pear man, was l elow stud3’ing his crop. Al- though neither of us was injured, the plane was completely wrecked. This ended the advertising of the Schwartz machine. Mr. Anderson in- formed me that I was in Beverly Hills, California. He had resided there ten 3 ' ears, and his wife, Doris (formerly Newhall,) ran a beauty shop there, called the “Make ’em O i0r.” I re- mained with him for a few hours until I received a telegram from the boss di- recting mj’- future activities. President Schwartz wired that the plane didn’t mean anything but gave me some busi- ness to transact in Los Angeles and then in New York. Andy took me for a ride in his “Rub- a-tub” over to Jo«l Clark’s house out on the desert, where he and his wife, Olive Smith, lived happily. How Joel made his monej’ wms unknown, but when we arrived there he showed us a letter from Olive (who was a’way at the time) ex- plaining the situation. It read, “Dear- est Joel: Your circus was wrecked in a tornado last night. People and animals in near panic. Little Joel is learning to swim under water. He went under this A. M. and didn’t come up for sup- per to-night. Wish jmu were with him. Tliere were many freaks here today. Expect to see you soon. Love, Olive.” As I walked towards the town of Bev- erlj Hills, whom was I to see but Harold Egan, the constable, strolling along the ab ss by the highway, with Harold Lewis under his arm. Harold, who was a noted explorer, had lost his way trying to find the Golden Gate. It was now exactly two-thirty and I had an appointment in Hollj ' wood at three. Since there were no taxis in sight my old friend Pat carried me down in the sidecar of his notorious [ 19 ]