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Page 12 text:
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THE STONEHAM HIGH SCHOOL AUTHENTIC henless. To clieer Tom up I invited him to accompany me to Chicago, which offer he gladly accepted. Upon our arrival in Chicago we found the city thronged. The first thing that attracted our attention was a large tent on which a sign read, “R. Franklin Hamlin’s Circus.” Marian deGruchy, dressed as an Indian was selling tickets. She gave us a hearty welcome and told us that she and Dick were life partners in the circus business. Dick was one of the most clever clowns in his troupe ; due to Marian’s constant care. Just inside the entrance, to our great sur- ; prise, we came upon Eddie Fulton, who was exhibiting some lions he had cap- j tured in the wilds of Lincolnville. Ed- die Tvas looking fine but he said he had rheumatism from walking beside j Brooks. After leaving Eddie who should we meet but Greta Crandall and Irma Olsen in a candy booth. Greta and Irma had taken over Fannie Farmer’s , business and certainly looked pros- perous. The music was fine, the band being led by the famous Charles B. Marr, who j gave quite an exhibition of contortion, i Playing the slide-trombone w’as Julian j Kelly, who wms “tearing the music off l)y ' yards.” Over in one coiaier of the band, | Bill Breagy ■was seeing how hard he could pound the drums without break- ing them. Lillian Hunt was the soloist for Charlie’s band. Lillian, now a mez- zo-soprano and a graduate of the Orsil- lo School of Music, certainly reflects j great credit on her teacher, Professor Lewds A. Orsillo. She sang a little ■ song, of which I remember the chorus. ; Riding around the Fellsway In my little Ford sedan, i Those Avere the happy days, Thel, | When I could hold your hand. I The Avords Avere Avritten by Francis ! Clarke in memory of his one and only! love, Thelma MacKay, Avhom he had lost somehoAV or other. It is said that Thel- | ma married a missionary and is living in the wilds of Africa. The music for ; this song W’as by John Archibald Finne- | gan, noAv a nationally knoAvn composer ' of sad music. I Noticing a crowd gathering at the i other end of the fair grounds, we hur- j ried along Avith the rest to see what I was going on. Ruth Gerrish, the daring , tight rope performer wms the attraction, i Ruth Avas balancing herself with a para- , sol in one hand and an ice cream cone | in the other. She looked much the same j as she had in high school days — just pleasingly plump. Hot roasted pea- nuts AA’ere being sold at a nearby stand. Here Ave found Richard Drew and Miri- am Hodgman doing a rushing business. Mirianl Avas doing the roasting of course and Dick Avas forcing the public to buy. At the next tent Bill Learned Avas exhibiting some prize horses. Bill told us that he now owned a homestead with a Barnstead on it. Ruth was wdth him and had become quite a horsewoman. Turning the next corner Ave bumped into Henry Richardson, w ' ho AA ' as blow- ing up and selling toy balloons. He told Tom A’ery confidentially that he was taking a correspondence course in avia- tion and that this was his first lesson. Wishing to find our way to the greas- ed pole, Ave sought the information bu- reau. The lady Avho passed out the in- formation Avas none other than our old schoolmate, Gladys LaAvson. Gladys could tell you Avhat you wanted before you really knew yourself. Harry Scan- lon Avas climbing the greased pole. Harry said that the reason for his being such a successful climber was that he never slipped. As it Avas noAv noontime Tom and I ambled to Chicago’s celebrated restau- rant, “The Bean Hole.” This first class restaurant Avas run by Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Griffin. Danny’s wife, former- ly Gladys CoLvell, Avas Chicago’s great- est dietitian. Gladys said she had mar- ried Dan so that she could have some- thing to look up to. Their chef, they told me, was Leonard Miller. Len had groAvn very stout, noAv tipping the scales at 317 pounds. The Avaitresses of “The Bean Hole” made us feel right at home. Why shouldn’t they Avhen some of them AA’ere old schoolmates? Lillian Berry AA’as our Avaitress. My, w’hat a luncheon Ave had. Among the other Avaitresses w’ere labbel Smart ajid Ora Schurman. Mabel AA’as so glad to see us that she dropped a tray of dishes in her excite- ment. A gentleman rushed to Mabel’s assistance. While picking up the de- bris an egg rolled out of his pocket. We again clasped hands with our old friend, Charles Gus Fletcher. Gus was still selling eggs and carried his sam- ples with him. On leaving the restaurant, we started to cross the street. When we were about half-way across, the traffic cop hailed us. Tom g rasped my arm. This stern guardian of law and order Avas Ralph Richardson. Ralph was surely [ 8 ]
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Page 11 text:
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GRADUATION NUMBER vice and never failing good humor have been a veritable balm of Gilead to our often wounded spirits. We respectfully admire our principal, Mr. Watson, for being to such a degree, patient and forbearing while shaping our faltering courses, and we know sin- cerely that he is to be counted among our friends. What would a mill be without power? What would society be without the “underdog?” Of what value would a team be without players? We can claim no greater honor than to have furnished the power for our school’s athletic ma- chines. Those who have had the dis- tinction of being captains have played as one with their team. As “deeds not words” must suffice, let us say simply but proudly that we have had a vital part in keeping sports alive in Stone- ham High School. As surely as the sun sets in pastel beauty and climbs the steeps of morn- ing in glory, so does mankind toil on to its inevitable destiny. Our life plans are roughly drafted for us, and dis- counting the fact of their great simil- arity none are executed in exact duplici- ty. The courses laid out for us by the rest of our small world are as alike, however, as the stars in the midnight blue. And they w ho by choice or dint of necessity venture to be “different” in this present mimeographed existence may be termed ambassadors of a new era. Did you ever want a thing to be true and you would never be happy until your wish was granted? You kfiew, however, that it could never be true, so you just made believe in order to have the fun of it. We, as a class have been unwittingly pioneering and making believe this year to quite an extent. As each duty arose there was nothing to do but be optimis- tic, pucker up and whistle and show subsequent signs of animation. It may be that we have not worried enough, but it was easier to let President Par- due do that. We willingly pass the bouquets to him now for having both thought and acted for us during a stren- uous and happy year. The Authentic staff wishes to be ego- tistical for a moment. The school pa- per as edited by the Senior Class has been a decided triumph this year and we are very proud to be able to say that all previous records for advertis- ing were surpassed during this period of publication. The social life of the last year of high school is always varied but su- premely important. Although it did not stretch the money bag visibly, a Senior dance held in December began the round of pleasures asupiciously. What next? The play’s the thing 1 Would you have cheese? Mild? Lim- berger? Or perhaps you prefer Oh Boy Gum! We had them all the night of the annual play and they were partaken of with enjoyment by everyone. The Senior Class banquet! Awaited in ex- pectation and anticipation for three years, the supreme event at last came to pass at the Hotel Kenmore. We are richer by the experience and will al- ways remember the Crystal Ball Room with a twinkle in our eyes and a smile in our hearts. That is all that we may share with others. The dreams and our individual memories are ours to keep. There is nothing left but today. And as the mists roll back across the drama obscur- ing our vision for another age each one assumes a different character, each of us has a new role to play on an even nobler stage. And in parting to enter the amphitheatre by our divers entran- ces, we give each other greeting. Pax vobiscum — Peace be with you. Ollass rophecu Gordon L. Fanjoy It is now the year 1950. All roads lead to Chicago where another World’s Fair is being held. All business has been set aside for the occasion, giving everyone an opportunity to attend this celebration. While at the depot, making reserva- tions, I happened to spy Thomas Pardue I getting off the weekly train from Wig- ! glyville. Tom was looking old and wor- j ried, having lost nearly all his hair. ! After a few minutes of conversation, he told me that he had been in. the poultry business, but had lost all his chickens but Cynthia. The terror of his life was upon him. He was afraid he would die [71
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