Waltham High School - Mirror Yearbook (Waltham, MA)

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16 THE MIRROR The roll call of the class of 1930 was called. . The first absentee was Paul 'fCi1ick Carlson.-. Chick was the founder of a clinic for invalids of all kinds. One drink of his famous fizz water was guaranteed to cure all ills. His slogan cure or killn, was brought out by the fact that an undertaker was always in attendance. This undertaker was Bill Gerriev. Business for him, just now, was dead. WAP' Langill and Stetson Risden were up in the Arctic Circle trying to sell ice chests to the Eskimos. No doubt they were doing a rushing business. Edward Furbush and Johnnie May were in the navy cruising somewhere in Southern waters. ' When they are in dock all you can hear is bragging about their sweet- hearts in every port. Such popularity must be deserved. Dorothy Ellison, now known as Mrs. Edward Tateirnan, was at home caring for their large family. Ed himself was there looking a bit worn and henpecked, but,-never- theless, quite cheerful. R Now comes something of interest. Five names of absentees were read from the roll. The five names were Grace Barret, Ethel Affleck, Gwendolyn Baxter, Gertrude Colburn, and Carolyn Snow. They were at this time in mid-ocean bound for a certain island where there was a scarcity of women, intent on becoming the wives of some of these men who have been hungering for love and de- votion. Yearn no more, my dear brothers. Salvation is at hand. These next few words are so hard to write. Two names were read off and the tears started in the eyes of even the most hardened. James MacMillan and John McDermott, two superb specimens of manhood, were now numbered amongst the missing. Without a thought for their own safety fall brave men are the samej they set out in their plane to res- Cue two castaways on Fox Island. The fliers lost their

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T H E M I R R 0 R 15 th-e capable direction of the one and only Nicholas Cannis- traro. Under his leadership the band furnished music that was real and vividg so real you couldn't sleep. Some of the players filling the air with noise were familiar to me. Robert McKenna, Philip Clarke, Barton Eldridge, and Charley Carney were all trying their best to burst the audience's ear-drums. There was music in the air. I know you would all be glad to hear about the mem- bers of the faculty in the new school. I was intensely in- terested. Faces that bespoke intelligence. Speech that was cul- tured and refined. A faculty that would confer credit on any school. Some of them were known to me in the good old days as 66M3Pj,, Brown, Muriel Rippen, Evelyn Powers, Mary DeCoste and Elsie Haines. To think that they are content to remain single for the rest of their lives! Fate, you are a funny thing. There were many notables present that evening. Amongst them I noticed Donald Pelkey, a great figure in the Boy Scout movement and the founder of the now fa- mous Robbins' Park Troop. Let the trumpets blow for him. Don gave me a copy of the Evening Star , pub- lished by Thomas Murphy, which contained an account of the return of the famous explorer George LaPorte. He had just come back from studying some ancient ruins. He acquired his love for exploration from Ancient History, no doubt. Nelle Cummins, the charming wif-e of Alfred Freeman, who was owner of a snowshoe factory in Florida, rendered a beautiful vocal solo. composed by the honorable Colin Dale. The song was entitled I Gave Him a Thousand Dollars to be a Millionaire . The sale of this song had been tremendous. Over fifty copies had been sold.

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THE MIRROR 17 bearings and were last seen heading towards Norumbega Park. It is common talk that they have succumbed to the rigors of the wilderness in those regions. May their brave souls rest in peace -- The roll is called and all regrets are paid, therefore, let us stray to more cheerful scenes. The new school boasts a spacious and well equipped gymnasium. The assembly had adjourned to this fore- named place, and dancing was now in progress. The mu- sic, which was very good, was furnished by an orchestra under the capable direction of Sam Caplan. Sam with his crooning voice and tender masculine beauty had won his way to the hearts of thousands of women. The orchestra was a remarkable group of musicians. They were all so- loists. Earl Dewar could certainly toot a mean sax. It was so mean it was terrible. Let the drums roll out. Those drums surely did roll out. Herman Ingber, he of the sinewy arm, certainly did his best to break those drums. Fred Barrows, violinist, Raymond MacKenzie, cornet- ist, and Wilbur Hornbeck, trombonist, contributed to the general discord. They sounded somewhat like Chicago,- I mean the stockyards. The women present were beautifully gowned. One, who especially attracted my attention, was Helen Win- gate, with whom I had a chance to speak. I asked her where she purchased the gown CI also begged her pardon for being so rude as to askl. She told me it was one of the latest Paris creations, purchased at the Cherie Style Shoppe. , , The shop was owned by William Pendergast and Allesandro Miele. They had studied styles abroad for several years and were now prepared to serve the public. Their creations had the touch of the artiste. Their shoppe employed several mannequins among whom were Har-