Waltham High School - Mirror Yearbook (Waltham, MA)

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CLASS OF 1939 Class History Many have said that in history there is no record of time and events which is so human and innately truthful as a diary. Strange as it may seem, in the last three world-shaking years I have kept a record of our life at Waltham Senior High School. Thus, with the aid of ex- cerpts from that diary, I shall now attempt to recall to you the swift-moving history of the class of 1939, the class that tried ro hard to be different. Since I quote directly from the leaves of the diary itself, all language and grammar in- cluded therein must needs be excused. Any re- lations to persons living or dead is purely on my mother's sidei We turn the dusty page of the first little vol- ume entitled, H1956-1937 . We read the first notation: XVednesday, Sept. 10, 1956, Well, diary, trotted off expectantly to-guess where-High School! And, boy, whatta place! They've built two new wings around the main building and there are more rooms and teachers than anyone dared to imagine. The first day the congenial instructors handed out books, 'and one kind old soul advised our gang thoughtfully to brush up for review exams. Went home today in a mixed state of mind. That mixed state of mind was the sudden knowledge that five hundred and forty-nine school days of this were to follow until distant gradua- t'0n. My mind, however, was soon changed, and as sophs set their neglected brain-power to action, the days picked up momentum with the interesting activities to be followed. Here is a stray paragraph of first impressions: Here our names might be dust for all we ap- pear to upperclassmen. However, the principals might easily be called 'princes of pals'. The rooms here are hard to find. While looking for Room 312, I went slightly astray and watched the janitor operate the boiler-room for ten inter- esting minutes. Notwithstanding the initial attitude of our Seniors, the friendship of many was to be our future blessing. The days flew by. On a sum- mer-like Saturday in September, we watched our football boys do battle for the first time as real rooters. Krol and Company, nice fellows all, steam-rollered all opposition until that black Thursday in November. Days rolled by surprisingly free from monotony. On October 27, our new gym was thrown open for another year. I have noted: Today the great army of rarely washed fladies excludedj met its Waterloo, because the new showers are working at top efficiency. Rumors of soap to be donated have brought strenuous pro- tests. All this was great fun, but the class of '39, soon knowing its need for organization, elected its class officers for the year. They were William Pendergast, president, Alan Davis, vice-president, Justine Smith, secretary, Muriel Medina, treasurerg and Harris Greene, auditor. I have simply written: The officers look O. K. except for the auditor. He looks like a slick customer. I think I'll slip a word to him about the right attitude to take. But soon the activity and voice of the Sopho- mores began to be heard. On December 16, the Sophomore Dramatic Group gave a capably acted play, earning the applause of the august Dramatic Club. Christmas and the New Year came on sounds of merriment and joy. On return after the va- cation, the attitude of the servile sophs becamf more confident and optimistic towards their seniors and their future. They really Ubelongedi' to their school. Sophomores loyally cheered the Shaughnessy brothers and their virtual monopoly of basketball, hockey, and baseball, all sports of which were waged with success through winter and spring. The 122-minute hockey marathon with Framingham intrigued lovers of slow-motion skating, and the eventual victory was fervently blessed by all.

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WALTHAM HIGH SCHOOL The Hill The young man walked beside his silent father, Walked through woods of smiling peace and quiet, There beneath the branches green with leaves Making dark the woodland path they trod, Shutting out all hint of human world, On they went-a father and a son, On and up until they stood atop A lofty hill around which lay their world, And they could see the gently swaying boughs Make a living sea of verdant green. The wind was one of soft and gentle origin, And tossed a lock of tawny, curly hair Across the sun browned forehead of the youth. It was a peaceful place: The young man spoke: No doubt, the saidj Yon can remember when There were much more of settings such as this, Of land and country filled with quiet places, XVhere civilization's touch had not yet come To bring with it, in place of peace and quiet, The cruelty and avarice of man. You - - - even you - - - although so very close To this - - - our present state of modernity, Had no fears to meet the world alone, Had no fears of going through your life Xx7ithout at least a try at honest labour, Had no fears of plunging into war To satisfy the vain and mad conceit Of men across the sea who seek for power: My generation faces such. The father Sighed and put his arm around his son With gesture full of care and understanding. Turned the youth, and filled his eyes with his, An then, his face once more aglow with what He saw therein, he gave his glance again Back to the scene below: the youth's eyes followed His. And now the father broke the still. My son, the saidj and pointed to the green, All this is yours to have and love and cherish, All this for you and for your sons to come, For generations have your forbears kept it Clean, and for the most-part, full of hope: However black the future seems to be, However dark the path of life appears, My son, remember, they too lived their lives In times of darkness, fear and sore distress. Your Revolutionary fathers lived In constant fear of loss of life and commerce, And so it's been throughout this mighty world, Fear has done his work with evil calm, Crept into the smallest of the openings In man's puissant suit of armor-Faith! And bored down there within his very soul To be an ever present source of trouble. But in all times when dark has been the future Of a nation, have there risen from Obscure places in that nation's core The men who carried out to high perfection Every thought and every high ideal: Those were men who went ahead and did And lived to watch their work bear ripened fruit. Those were men who laughed when scoffers jeered, And carried on and worked, and toiled-and won! You say, my son, that all those days are dead, That you have not the chance your fathers had, That you will never climb to any heights And blaze your name across our country's annals, But can't you see that you have all to gain By holding to ideals of men who knew That this would be a country full of hope, And not one full of sorrow and despair. You have your chance to make from what you have A life of happiness and symphony, Success if you but try, is bound to come: But that success is not all due to working, For in your working you must have that spark-- That quality which is so hard to catch- The quality that all the men who moulded This, our land, must first, perforce, have captured. That spark is nothing more than simple faith: Cfzlrla it-hold it-then the world is yours! Joi-IN B. LEWIS.

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4 Vl'ALTH-1M HIGH SCHOOL . The sophs widened their scope of activity. They invaded radio in a dramatization of Charles Goodyear and his life. In the midst of quaver- ing voices the automobile tire was once again invented. The now smooth-functioning class chose a highly significent motto, Experientia Docct , al- though half the class, Latin students included, were obliged to ask for the translation. There is briefly noted: Thursday, March 11, 1937: The motto, Experientia Docetn, at this time sccms to mean that the teacher knows a litile more than you think she doesnt. The class of '39 had a quick taste of :dult life when the much-postponed Sophomore Social was held in the gym. A short entry: Friday, March 19, 1937, The affair was a lot of fun. The boys and girls, girls especially, are very shy, but I think they'll change with time. They've changed! Y Time irresistibly flowed through the happy months. May came and with it the junior Prom. But on the notices, regrets were in order, for Sophomores could not attend. Come to think of it, there was no mention of regrets. june came, and the Scniors, with watery eyes fl think it rained that dayj, bade us aufwiedcrsehen. lior a few delirious days we had more room and leis- ure. Then vacation. ln red pencil, diary says: So now we're juniors. And here's vacation. Thanks to the Lord ! Of course in mid-August the tunes of joy turned to whistles of impatience to get back to school again. Three hundred and fifty high-and-mighty juniors dusted off varying amounts of grey mat- ter that fall, and lorded the premises in a man- ner that would have won the plaudits of their predecessors. Once again they set themselves to business, and elected their new class officers: Winslow MacDonald, president, Regina Ring, vice-president, Muriel Medina, secretary-treasurer, and Harris Greene, auditor. The football season was on us. The lads of the junior class playing on the squad played well, and although not one of the most successful, still the season was a sportsmanlike, hard-fought one. The girls had their innings in field hockey. The NTIRROR staff performed new miracles by getting out one of its most successful issues. The flow of time quickened, and the Class of 1939 went through the old year into the new on the swelling tide. Appropriately enough at the bottom page of the diary, which is standard, there reads the following truism: Today is the tomorrow we looked towards, from which yesterday is only a memory. The hockey team swept to win the Brown Me- morial Trophy before the admiring eyes of their urging classmates. Golf, basketball, and base- ball became the cynosure of students' eyes. The girls of '59 emphasized their finesse in the bas- ketball and bowling brackets. Spring came and with it the operetta, The Royal Vagabond . Studies were blithely abandoned during the pro- duction of this two-night hit. The Vagabond, his Anitza, Chefcheks, and courtiers were given a royal welcome by the audience. Then the junior Prom, THE event of the junior year. Under soft lights, string orchestra, and thirty-six repeats of Heigh-Ho , the dance was a real dance from all view-points, thanks to the able committee in charge. With amazement, the juniors watched their congenial superiors graduate, a few short days later. WCl'C' they now those people of dignified countenance, of such god-like mien? Were they now Seniors? They were! They returned in the fall, a bit tanned and very mature in action and thought. There is noted: We began to feel the responsibility placed upon us by our elders. Perhaps the homework isn't all a matter of needless bother. Perhaps we're here for something. These facts, pa- tiently impressed by teachers for three years, now began to penetrate and make sense. It was the beginning of manhood and womanhood. The High School football team, captained and predominated by Seniors, turned a black outlook into a fall campaign of unexpected brilliance and success, the last game making them heroes of the first magnitude. I have: