Watervliet High School - Spectator Yearbook (Watervliet, NY)

 - Class of 1949

Page 32 of 72

 

Watervliet High School - Spectator Yearbook (Watervliet, NY) online collection, 1949 Edition, Page 32 of 72
Page 32 of 72



Watervliet High School - Spectator Yearbook (Watervliet, NY) online collection, 1949 Edition, Page 31
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Watervliet High School - Spectator Yearbook (Watervliet, NY) online collection, 1949 Edition, Page 33
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Page 32 text:

Sl CLASS PROPHECY 551 Park Avenue. New York City, New York March 2, 1969 Dear Liz. Yesterday, while window shopping along Fifth Avenue. I ran into an old friend of yours, Mary Boghosian. As we were talking over old times. she asked me if I ever heard from Liz Pat- zarian. I told her that we corresponded occasionally and that I'd promised to write and tell you all about the Inaugural Ball I attended last month. We spent the forenoon together, and after having lunch, I hurried home to dash off this letter to you. The ball was held in the new Crystal Room of the White House. where I was surprised to meet so many members of the class of forty-nine. Of course, you know that Phil Trimble is now serving his fourth term as president and that Bill Adams has again been appointed Secretary of the Treasury. I had rather a difficult time gaining entrance to the ball room, as secret service agents Lou Paley and Alex Howansky were carefully scrutinizing each guest as he entered. Once inside, however, I was thrilled by the lovely voice of Eleanor Catricala, accompanied by Adam Kachidurian and his band. I listened for a while, till I spied Armando Parente. now head of Save the Ladies chemical industries, sitting at a nearby table with those two popular models, Pat Bak and Melvine Scott. I had been talking with this well-known trio for only a few minutes when John Kennedy and Fred Field, famous Olympic stars in their day. claimed the girls for the next dance. I learned from Fred that Joan Ford, Ruth Smith and Bill Butler had done all the architectural work for the new ball room. And do you remember Marcia Zepf? She is now head of the Marilyn Hopson Hospital, but still the same old Marcia, even after twenty years. She told me that Henry McGrath and Carl Olson are both in the hospital with house-maids knee. Can you imagine! Surveying the crowd once again. I spied a group of notables around the punch bowl. Of course I didn't have to look twice to see that it was Frank Charles, Gene Mongiello, Warren Schelde and Ed Daley. I wasn't long in finding out that they were the president's newly appointed kitchen cabinet. I wonder what kind of utensils they'll make! Liz. you should have seen the way private detectives John Moore and Walter Krage were weaving their way through the crowd. Just like Sherlock Holmes! They seemed to focus their attention on Alice Kapela and Rosemary Gunsalus, two well-known actresses. lDo you remember Rosemary's reading Lady Macbeth in Miss Fortanier's English class back in '49?! I was surprised to see Carolyn Anderson and Pat Gilbert at the ball. The last I heard. they were both in Europe. representing the American Athletic Association lthe girl's association, of coursel. Carolyn told me that Ed Hughes is the ,new mayor of Watervliet and that it was through his influence that President Trimble put Watervliet on the map. Also, to my surprise I saw Eleanor Scocca, Dorothy Fedorchak. Mary Ciepcielinski and Catherine Bak. the former debs of Watervliet. I noticed a crowd had assembled over by the door to have pictures taken. The photographer was none other than George Woodin, with his capable assistant, Marilyn Rettie. You probably saw the picture on the cover of Strife Magazine. Steve Puzier is really doing a fine job as editor-in-chief: isn't he? And Liz-have you read Mary Celeone's gossip column lately? It's really outrageous! Well, getting back to the ball, about ll :45 Rickey and Marian Deratzian got up on a table and sang their version of Stormy Weather -much to the enjoyment of several members of the Cabinet who allegedly were discussing Harry D'Agostino's atomic theory. At the close of their song, I talked with Marian for a few minutes and then decided it was about time I left for home. I took a helicopter to the airport where I just caught the last jet for New York. As I relaxed on the soft sea-foam cushion invented by Tom Flannery, I turned to find that my traveling companion was Frank McCarthy, our ambassador to Russia. Also on the plane was Walter Nash, now an airline official, too old to pilot, but still up in the air. Walter informed me that starting next week. the air rates will be six and one-half cents higher because of the fact that Warren Page, president of the airlines, needs a new car. Well, Liz, that's about all the news for now. I hope you'll be able to make the class reunion in June. though I know your grandchildren keep you pretty busy. .y Sincerely yours, FRANCES MCGHIE

Page 31 text:

Tony Dominick, George Woodin and George Dent leave their happy smiles and loyal friend- ship to all underclassmen interested in making friends. Ann Riley, Eileen Crall and Jane Dix, The Three Musketeers of W.H.S., leave their ability to stick together through thick and thin to Nancy Baldwin, Alice Burke and Frannie Curtis. Tom Barry leaves one copy of his newly published book to all underclassmen. The book is entitled H500 Excuses For Being Late. Marilyn King and Marilyn Kehoe, who received the Happy Hunting Grounds igPort Schuy- lerj in last year's will, pass it on to Dottie Sheldon and Mary Ann Paley. Frances Polniak leaves her knowledge of baseball to Happy Chandler. Alex How'ansky and' Marcia Zeph are glad to leave physics. Penny Pakatar leaves her acting talents to anyone who wants to perform in the Student Council play next year. ' Mary Boghosian and Elizabeth Patzarian leave their well developed brains to Ann Bryan and Josephine Mori. Bob Welsh leaves his machine shop knowledge to Teddy Howansky. Gene Mongiello leaves his sharp driving to a junior, Frank Wimpy Romeo. Al Castle leaves his numerous freckles to l'Big Ronnie Field. . We regret to inform you that one of our members, namely Warren Schelde. refuses to leave any- thing to anyone until he gets the two bottles of pop owed to him by Cynthia Hills. Sylvia Knorring and l'Hank McGrath leave their brains to Einstein and Frankenstein re- spectively. Frannie McGhie leaves her Scottish tales and accent to Mr. Hill. Armando Parente leaves four bottles of Save-the-Baby to the members of the faculty. It is to cure headaches. John Moore and Carmen Oliviere offer their line of... ....... fascinating stories to Bob Sheehan and Dave Gould. The Senior Class also gives the juniors three boxes of boots and shovels. Cool Water Kachidurian awards his famous voice to Al Jolson. - Bill Butler and Sid Normandin leave their paints. paper. pencils and brushes to Joe Wasula and Jim Riley lkalias John Smithj. Nancy Feathers leaves her weird creations to Lenore Vorce. who needs no encouragement, Melvin Scott, Ricky Deratzian, Marion Dferatzian and Joyce Steiner bestow their talents to the B. T. C. of the junior class. V Wilbur leaves Miss Barrett a lifetime subscription to the magazine of the same name. We. the authors of this, ahem! master piece, think we would be better off if we just left. The members of homeroom llO leave Miss Barrett their thanks for the advice she has given them while they were interned at W. H. S. ' To Mr. Collier. our class adviser, we leave our heartfelt thanks for the care and supervision he has given us from the time we were freshmen until now, when we are grand old seniors. To Mr. Sanders and the whole faculty, we leave our thanks for all the knowledge they have given us throughout our four years of high school. We also leave the promise that we will try to use this knowledge to our best advantage. BILL ADAMS, '49 PHIL TRIMBLE. '49 PERSONALITY DF YOUTH The personality of a school is many individual personalities combined into one-the distinct per- sonality of youth. As we look at a school, ours or any other. what are its most striking characteristics? Of course sports are on the agenda all year round with various phases of emotion and drama- the crispy tang of football air, the mechanical but energetic rhythm ofgcheerleaders, tense spectators. hoarse from cheering and determined players. There are classrooms with serious. in-tent students who automatically become laughing, care- free youths as' soon as dismissal bell rings. F John is beginning to realize that Mary has a pretty smile, and Jane is seeing Fred's broad shoulders in a new light. There are cokes at the corner store and teen-age jalopies of remarkable endurance. Numerous informal dances provide lively, inexpensive entertainment for jitterbug enthusiasts: and the flowing, graceful movements of waltzing couples mark the sedate, colorful settings of formals. An American school is American youth, and an American youth is a versatile person with more maturity and a deeper sense of responsibility than he is credited with. Youth is life-life in its richest form. SYLVIA J. KNORRING, '49



Page 33 text:

THE FUTURE BEGINS When you come to the end of your high school years And you wonder what lies ahead. Your heart is heavy: your eyes sting with tears. For you long for days that are dead. There's a satisfaction. but what use is that When high school fun's gone and past? You can remember, but what good is that NVhen you face the world so vast? Well, this is the end of our senior year. And the start of a journey. too: Childhood is past: the future looms near With a hope for success anew, For the future holds rewards of the past For the work that was well done: And we find, in the years that have gone so fast. A right to the future we've won. SYLVIA J. KNORRING A CONFUSING MGRNING As the rays of the sun peeked through my window. I buried my head deeper in my fluffy pillow. Darn that sun. Did it have to get up so early? After I had tossed and turned for ten whole minutes. the alarm twhich was so loud you could have heard it two blocks awayj finally attempted ton convince me that it was time to get up. This rousing reminder wasn't convincing enough, however, so I stayed in bed for another five min- utes. It was my dog that succeeded in making up my mind for me when he jumped on the bed and started to affectionately lick my face. That was dennitely the last straw. I cautiously put one foot on the cold floor, only to pull it quickly back under the covers. Next I ventured to put the other down. This foot found the rug. so I bravely dashed from my cozy bed and hastened to splash icy water in my face in an attempt to drive away all signs of Morpheus. I then found my way to the kitchen. where I put the coffee on ,and started two slices of bread on the way to toast. A thought began to dawn. What was I going to wear to school that day? I chose my new blouse with the ruffle and my grey skirt-a perfect combination. Alas, while pressing them I remembered that I had worn them the previous day. and to wear the same things two days in a row was unthinkable. After rummaging through the closet, I finally found some- thing suitable. Oh. dear. where were my white socks? I found them, only to discover a hole defiantly staring at me. After an extensive search. I spied the pin cushion. Yes, believe it or not. there was a needle there. A hunt for my shoes was next on the agenda. but a peculiar odor floated into my nostrils. It was the toast! What a smoke screen! While running to separate toast and toaster, I tripped over the lost shoes. Thoroughly discouraged. I threw the toast out the window and poured out the ready-to-boil-over coffee. Breakfast over and other preparations for school complete, I quietly tiptoed to mother's room to ask for some change to buy my lunch. She looked at me and heard my request: then she burst out laughing-yes, laughing at me. her daughter. After coming out of her hysterics. she enlightened me by telling me something that made me so-oo-o angry. It was Saturday. I wasted no time in getting bac o bed-a fitting climax for a confusing morni . Q 1 PIL, ' JOAN LAUREN, '51 M! d SMARION DRZEURECKA ' - A' i . V W qi-X a R jj 'I ' l Z9

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