Stoneham High School - Wildlife Yearbook (Stoneham, MA)

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GRADUATION NUMBER suddenly felt myself being rushed through space very swiftly. Suddenly j I ceased to travel. I was falling and I i heard the mocking laugh of my ghostly I companion as he left me. I tried to scream but I was unable. Not a sound left my lips, I closed my eyes and the ! bump came. When I opened them 1 1 was beside my bed. Was my past experience a reality or merely a dream? Where had I been? How long had I been gone? All this was unknown to me. I do know, how- ever, that somewhere these friends of mine are making good. |3r0pI|Erg cf tlie Carl E. After fifteen years of absence from my native land, I found myself leaning on the rail of a small tramp steamer, which was slowly nosing its way into New York harbor. My eyes were blur- red and a lump formed in my throat as we passed the Statue of Liberty. After docking and going through cus- tom formalities, I established myself ; at a hotel. Curious to see what changes { had taken place during my absence, I strolled up Broadway. As I walked, I noticed a great elec- tric sign ahead of me. The name on the sign seemed familiar, and I entered what I supposed was a theatre but which in reality was a large and perfectly ap- pointed ballroom. At the end of the room, opposite the entrance, was a large orchestra. As I approached it, the leader turned and Hibbard faced me. In a flash the name on the sign came back to me. It was Jimmie Montague, prophet of the Class of 1929 at Stoneham High School. After mutual greetings, he said, “We have a half hour before the program starts. Let’s talk” I learned that Jim- mie was the leader of the country’s finest orchestra and was proficient him- self at playing many musical instru- ments, especially the banjo. He also told me that he was married. “Libba and I will be giad to have you visit us,” he said. The buzz of a bell interrupted me. “There’s my warning,” said Jimmie. “Come up to the house tomorrow after- noon and we’ll have a great old talk.” “Sure, I’ll be there,” I said as I left him. Tomorrow had much in store for me. ' ast pitil artb Testament of tl|e (Class of 1329 We, the Class of 1929, in the year of our Lord, one thousand nine hundred and twenty-nine, of the Stoneham High School, located at Stoneham, Massachu- setts, United States of America, West- ern Hemisphere, being in full and com- plete possession of our faculties of mind and body yet knowing the uncertainties of our lives, do hereby declare, assev- erate, and proclaim this document to be our last will and testament, and do dispose of our scholastic possessions as follows : Item I — We give and bequeath unto that famous czar of Room 13, Mr. Earle Thomas Thibodeau, our sincere sympa- thy in his present bereavement in losing not only the biggest, and brightest, and best class that ever graduated from S. H. S., but also “the bigger and better half” of the Moore-Thibodeau combina- tion. We wish him luck in recovering from these two shocks, — but seriously, may he never wholly forget us. Item II — We give unto our business home-room teacher. Miss Nesbit, the best of luck in her forthcomiiig years of teaching. We hope that she can maintain the strict silence in the future . that she has in the past, and cultivate dignified Seniors from the present Ju- I niors, a seemingly impossible task, j Item III — To our classical home- I room teacher. Miss Moore, most popular I of teachers, we do hereby bequeath our love and best wishes for a lifetime of i happiness, upon the sole condition that ! she share this bequest with one, Ernest I Wilson, in Jackman, Maine. May she ! always l ook back upon this year as one I of the happiest of her life because of the Class of 1929, and Ernest. It is our wish and desire : I — That Mr. Thibodeau be formally [ 13 ]

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THE STONEHAM HIGH SCHOOL AUTHENTIC friend, Mary Driscoll. On the edge of the crowd a man was weeping dolefully. When asked what ' the trouble was, he said that he had spent most of his pay at the beach, and he was afraid that his better half, Mrs. Weiss, formeiLly Annabelle Dillon, would scold him. We left this gathering and stopped in front of a large building where a window sign read “Snell and Moody, Hair Waving a Specialty.” A few windows down another sign an- | nounced “E. Bergholtz, Fortune-Teller | Hypnotist.” I smiled as I thought of Edna making hocus-pocus. As we again passed on I felt a change in the air, and then I realized that we had left the city for the country. There in a field I saw a bus, with a sign on it reading, “TEACHEES’ EXCUESIONS.” Near this bus I spied someone reading a book on “Etymology.” When she lowered the book to adjust her glasses, I saw Elizabeth Moulton. Another per- son of my acquaintance was there. Ella Hovey was reading a book on “Biology” and giving her views on the preserva- tion of tadpoles. We soon came to a group of buildings that nestled near a lake. Here we saw a sign, “MISS ELDEIDGE’S GIELS’ CAMP,” and Phyllis teaching the girls the correct way to roll a hoop. Then down the road I saw a crowd of children coming. At the head of this young parade was Vera Harris. She is now a minister’s wife and was giving her little flock a picnic. After passing this happy group, I saw someone milking a cow. Just then the cow kicked the pail over, and the little dairymaid jumped up. Who do you suppose it was? Arline Parks, and the young lady who hurried to her aid was none other than Eleanor O’Brien. Then I felt the air rush past us as we traveled along at a swift pace. Soon we were over a small town. There on a bicycle sat a country constable watching for reckless speeders. When he turned our way I saw that this man with the alfalfa on his chin was none other than Walter Houston. I was in the city again and I could see the hazy smoke hajiging over it. Then I saw a night club. We went in and there I beheld Dot Eogers and Lois Detheridge resplendent in evening gowns, for they were the proprietors and hostesses of the best night club in the city. Over in one corner a crowd of girls were entertaining Austin Patch, who is now a movie producer. Then I saw the girls leave suddenly as across the floor stamped Zoa Newhall. She led Austin off by the ear. You can figure it out for yourself. We went out and as the pavements w hizzed by I saw Kuth Meagher through an open window of a large building. Ruth is now a telephone operator. Suddenly I saw a man being propelled down the street by a woman police of- ficer. This woman was no other than Dot Wessell. The man was violently protesting, “But officer it was my wife, I and she hit me first!” “I’m sorry, Mr. Huebner, but when I knew Laura Wood she was always very peaceful.” We followed these to the city hall and there on the bench sat Judge Hughes and pleading a case was the famous woman lawyer, Velma Murray. ' In the audience I saw Jeannette Miller writing notes on the case, for she is now a newspaper reporter. We went out of the court and there on the sidewalk a crowd was gathered. They had all come to get a glimpse of Beth Durkee, the tennis queen. She was accompanied by her very able man- ager, Helen Waterman. Again we whizzed off into space to a political meeting. There we saw and heard Helen Thornburg and Marion Hale debating as to whether or not the chop suey houses are a menace to our public welfare. We left this heated debate and next I found myself at the docks, where I saw Thelma Pickens selling round trip tickets to Coney Island. Just then Dick Wallace, now a taxi driver, stopped near us and opened the door for his passenger. Can it be? You, Amy Wood, and her protegee. Rose Dion. These, I learned from their con- versation, were going to Europe. ‘ Going up a flight of stairs, I saw George Dalimonte. The muscles on his brawny arms were as strong as iron bands. George was the owner of a fur- niture moving company and living up to our Class Motto— “Lift as You Climb.” j I was next urged by my companion to look at a huge building that was adorned with a sign “Rafferty’s Hospit- al.” Here our Mary tends the sick. Just then I saw Katherine Kirkpat- rick coming out of the front door. She • is now a full fledged nurse. Then I [ 12 ]

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THE STONEHAM HIGH SCHOOL AUTHENTIC appointed guardian of the Class stat- uary, namely, a robust pig The above named person is to remain guardian of the said statuary until the rightful heirs become of age on or after the fourth of September, in the year one thousand nine huundred and twenty-nine. He may then transfer the property to the would-be Seniors of 1930, if after thor- ough examination he finds no trace of insanity and judges them to be far enough from their former state of in- fancy to safely guard the aforenamed property. II — That those who are lucky enough to gain Room 12 as their final resting place, refrain from all unnecessary noise or spit-ball battles in honored remembrance of those who dwelt there before them. HI — To those who are lucky enough to hang their hat in the sacred room, Room 9, we bequeath these last wishes: 1. If the teacher bawls you out for something you haven’t done, don’t take offence, try not to do it again. 2. Keep in mind that the former in- habitants of that room always held their desks in high esteem. 3. Never hit your neighbor with an eraser ; use a book, it hurts more. 4. And, lastly, every morning at 8.10 remain quiet for 1 minutes in re- membrance of the ones who have gone before you. -3 In witness whereof, we, the Class of 1929, the testators of this, our last Will and Testament, set our hand and seal on this fourteenth day of June, in the year ' of our Lord, one thousand nine hundred, and twenty-nine. Signed, Class of 1929. hitistirs of tliE Ollass of 1929 Hugh Hamill Class Total Weight, 10,663. Class Total Age, 1520. Class Average Age, 172. Class Total Height, 5141. Class Average Height, 5 ft. 4 inches. Class is 85% times as tall as Mr. Thi- bodeau. Class is 49 1-3 times as old as Mr. Watson. Class Motto, “Lift as You Climb.” Class Grandma, Laura Wood. Class Grandpa, Melvin MacMillan. Class Midgets, Laura Wood and John Connell. Class Giants, Phyllis Eldridge and Austin Patch. Class Infant, Marjorie Alley. Class Cowboy, Ernest Blanchard. Class Milkmaid, Roger Sumner. Class Flowergirl, Mary Davis. Class Prima Donna, Cynthia Bagdik- ian. Class Artist, Walter Houston. Class’ Pleasantest Sound, Dismissal Bell at 1.25. Class’ Hardest Task, Arriving at 8.10. Class Favorite Pastime, Getting slips signed. Class’ Favorite Period, Sewing. ] Iost Intellectual Class, The Seniors. Class Librarian, Arline Parks. Class Sheik, James Casey. Class Popular Boy, Hugh Hamill. ( Class Popular Girl, Dorothy Dodge. Class Hercules, Bill Decker. Class Grecian God, Nick Baduvakis. Class Heavyweight, Charles McKin- I non. i Class Flyweight, Yera Harris. ' Class Heathen, Emory Clark. Class Mutt and Jeff, Joe Lundregan j and Ernest Dearborn. ! Class Daffodil, Victor Ferguson. ! Class Popular Teachers, Miss Moore ' and Mr. Thibodeau. Class Fight Manager, “Sharkey” Kel- ley. Class Tiger-man, Harold Huebner. I Class Best-looking Boy, James Mon- I tague. ! Class Best-looking Girl, Phyllis Dodge, i Class Lord Helpus, David Truesdale. I Class Boy Athlete, Joe Lundregan. Class Girl Athlete, Virginia Lane. Class Varmint, Dick Wallace. I Class Man-about-town, “Swede Fred- rickson. I Class Bloodhounds, The Juniors (they I are always trailing the Seniors.) i Class Whippoorwill, “Alice” Brundage. j Class Lumberjack, Dot Mellett (she’s ! always sawing.) Class Hula Girl, Beth Durkee. Class Sword-Swallower, Winnie Hage- mann. Class Flirt, Joan Munger. [ 14 ]