University of Rhode Island - Renaissance / Grist Yearbook (Kingston, RI)

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IN THE BEGINNING . . .

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THE RENAISSANCE STAFF: ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Producer, Editor-in-Chief— Robert Sherwin Co-Editor, Art Director -James Paul Mahoney Managing Editor -Joni Seplocha Business Manager —James Botvin Assoc. Business Manager — A1 Riendeau Photography StafT: Linnea Toney Charles Margeson Brian E. Rock Avi Ostrowsky Alex Caserta Peter Gilmette Thomas Nixon Donald Lew StafT darkroom work by James P. Mahoney Contributing Photographers: Robert Emerson Robert Izzo Joe Norris Richard Friday Jerry Zeeke Bob Leviton Michael Mahoney Warren Erguerian J. G. Paroline Technical Information Literary Contributors: Shelley Zuckerman Literary Editor William Loveless Ev Short “Tornado” Slim Thomas Zorabedian Val Southern Maria Christina Leitao Norman C. Lyon Amelia Kondon Carol Miele Connie De Santis We would like to thank the following people for their assistance in com- piling Renaissance 1973: The students of neighboring elementary schools for their art work Susan Smith for her Senior Section graphics All people who appeared in our photographs Gary Richman and the Art Department Roger Conway— Faculty Advisor Bill Bowers and the Alumni Office Bob Rainville, Bob Brunell, and the Memorial Union Staff The Office of Public Information and Relations Charlie “Fu-Kung” and the maintenance staff The Registrars Office, esp. Miss Jacobs Central Mailing Vic O’Neill, Jim Findley, Dick Lupardo and Kib Roulette of Bradbury Keller Aaron Jarit -Carol Studios Lynbrook, New York The Good 5 t Cigar Staff The Black Gold Staff Faculty members Karen Stein and Fred Ivor Campbell and the entire stu- dent body for their cooperation. TABLE OF CONTENTS Renaissance Copyright 1973 Kingston, Rhode Island All rights reserved No part may be reproduced without permission of the editor. Renaissance is exclusively funded by the URI undergraduate student body. Renaissance is printed by Bradbury Keller and the Paragon Press: both di- visions of Herff Jones Keller Corp. The paper stock used is 100 pound dull coat enamel. Production of books containing senior pictures has been limited to two thousand copies. Introduction In the Beginning . . . Preface Pre-school Elementary Junior High School Senior High School Four Years in Review The Calendar Year (1972-73) 1973 in Review Athletic Endeavors A Day in the Life . . . Renaissance Gallery The Class of ’73 4 5 6 8 13 18 25 34 55 81 104 152 199

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PREFACE ... So where are we now? Products of a civilization we inherited, a history we tried to shape, a system that molded our lives ... as we attempt to put the finishing touches on our self definition. As children we lived in the serenity of Disneyland and the bewilderment of air raid shelters. In those timeless years, when black was black and there were no shades inbetween, we found our heroes in the Lone Ranger, Superman, our parents, and Mickey Mouse. The future was non-existent and the past meant yesterday. The United States was the best country in the world, and while we hid beneath our desks when those four alarming bells resounded in the school corridors, we shivered with fear at the thought of the atomic war they were telling us about. One day, way off in the distance, we would venture through the endless years of text books and history exams, promotions and diplomas, and eventually come out of it all as school teachers or fire chiefs, secure within a family of our own. While we watched those first few rocket ships blast off, we realized the fruition of technological progress, and we were content and happy to let our own free minds explode with individual creativity and imagination. As our daily lives in school proved their effects upon our increasingly more patterned and structured selves, we suddenly found a new hero to worship. John Kennedy represented youth, and we could now identify with the world outside our own heads. But our itensified belief in America one day shattered. November 22 will forever bring vivid images to our minds: “where were you when it happened?” we still ask each other. So our hero was gone for good, and we eventually placed our hope and faith in four long-haired musicians from Liverpool. Soon we found ourselves no longer the carefree children we once were and peer presure pushed us to identify with the older kids who were now growing their hair like the Beatles and wearing Carnaby Street clothes and tom dung- arees. Youth was quickly emerging as a powerful political force, or so we imagined, and while Vietnam and race riots intensified, so did our concern for the reality outside the high school. Life at home was starting to become stifling, and we longed for independence and freedom. Parental rebellion they called it: smoking pot at your friends house when no one was home, bleaching your jeans so they’d look old and faded, growing your hair long despite your parents constant promises that they’d cut off your allowance. The hippies were still alive and well once we got to college, and it was easy for us to fit in. We suddenly found ourselves living with the freedom we’d for years wished to have, and slowly we endured the painful process of discov- ering ourselves. We experienced intellectualism, ventured through various moralities, drifted complacently and secu- rely from one day to the next. We’ll never forget our first real live campus protest, and the feeling of community and brotherhood on the quad- rangle. It was easy to venture out of the college womb for a little while and voice our protests against the world outside. It was a time when “all you need is love,” man, and a little dope, a little peace, and the world would be just fine. It was essentially the next spring’s festivities against the war and finals which brought us to realize that placing flowers on a National Guardsman’s rifle just doesn’t work anymore. The flower childr en quietly filtered out of the mainstream and disappeared, although so many of us drifted through the transition without realizing the demise of our once glorious hippie culture. Things generally became too ‘heavy’ for us to cope with. As we watched the helicopters descend with U.S. troops over the Lincoln Memorial on May Day, as more and more of our friends got busted, as we finally learned that protests were no longer the time and place for scoring and smok- ing pot, we succumbed. The establishment, which we once put all our faith into, which we once tried to influence, finally defeated us. “Peace” the word we once thought could solve everything, was now becoming a cliche and the system succeeded in squashing our idealism to an ash. So where are we now? A bit bewildered, let down, somewhat depressed, and overall apathetic, as we watch the world powerlessly behind our Providence Journals. With no more heroes to put our faith into, no more Bobby Ken- nedys, Eugene Me Carthys and Mark Rudds, we find ourselves thrust from our four year old security blanket and into a system we have no choice but to contend with. Graduation has swept us up and out of the Kingston Fantasy. We’ll try to acclimate ourselves to the prevailing mode of life out there, while we gradually force ourselves to depart from the college generation. And as the umbilical cord severs itself, Renaissance will serve as a tool for remembering what we were, what we’ve become and how we arrived at our present situation in this stage of the game. -Shelley Zuckerman H. Leibowitz