Wells High School - Crimson and Gray Yearbook (Southbridge, MA)

Page 8 text:

America! America! God shed His grace on thee, And crown thy good with brotherhood From sea to shining sea! America the Beautiful By Katherine Lee Bates

Page 7 text:

THE CRIMSON AND GRAY PUBLISHED QUARTERLY BY THE STUDENTS OF THE MARY E. WELLS HIGH SCHOOL, SOUTHBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS VOLUME XXIV NOVEMBER 1940 NUMBER 1 Editor-in-Chief, Natalie Pierce Business Manager Treasurer Secretary Subscription Manager Editors Alumni Marjorie McCann Athletics Lionel Beno-it Marilyn Miller Exchanges Julia Liro Locals Glenna Houlberg Prattle Miriam Renaud Mary Dirlam Reviews Ann Robbins Subscriptions Jack Eaves Francis Kirby Jean Phillips Jean Robertson Patricia Whiteoak Jean Wilkinson Francois Roy Madelyn Schesler Julia Rewinski Darthia Bernheim Business Gerald Bastien Raymond DiGregorio Robert LaReau Stephen Lariviere Alfred Martin Aldo Piucci Richard Rydensky John Woulas Typing Alyse Hong Lorraine Julien Gertrude LaRochelle Janet Migala Ida Volpini Faculty Adviser, Thecla Fitzgerald TABLE OF CONTENTS LITERATURE ....... The Junior, Natalie Pierce ' 41, Mary Ziu ' 44, Lorraine Cournoyer ' 44, Helen Dusza ' 44, Doris Suprenant ' 44, Geraldine Ethier ' 44, Francis Kirby ' 43, Betty Swyncicki ' 42, Thomas Walkinshaw ' 42, Miriam Renaud ' 41, Robert W. Proulx ' 41, Mary Ann Hazelton ' 42, Francois Roy ' 42, Frank Chipman ' 42, Jean Robertson ' 42, Mary Dirlam ' 42 LOCALS SPORTS REVIEWS ALUMNI PRATTLE Ruth Desmarais ' 41, Mary Dirlam ' 42 PAGE 3 11 14 17 18 19 Jacob Edwards Library 236 Main Street Southbridge, MA 01550

Page 9 text:

NOVEMBER 1940 LITERAT URE Dear Diary, Thanksgiving Evening The wounds of a friend are most painful. I found this to be true after my sad experience today. This morning I awoke to the calls of my kid brother, Willy, who takes great pleasure in tormenting me. After hurriedly dressing, I dashed to the dining room, where our small family was assembled. Before I could greet them, however, the doorbell rang; and, excusing myself from the table, I ran to find Skitchy, my so-called boy friend, waiting impatiently. Come on, Judy. The game starts in fifteen minutes. Why, hello, Judge Pearson! How are you this morning? Fine, thanks, Skitchy. Judy, I ' ll be down at the office if you should want me. Good-bye. So long, Dad. Be seeing you at dinner, and don ' t you keep the turkey waiting either. The door closed and Skitchy and I were left to wail for the time of the big game between our high school end our strongest opponent. ' I hastily finished my breakfast, with a few words of disapproval from the housekeeper, and soon appeared warmly attired in a sheep ' s wool fur coat with a plaid scotty hat to match the plaid suit concealed under my coat. In high spirits we ran off to join the other members of the school who were already assembling at the gates of the athletic field. Coming towards us in her usual carefree manner, was Elouise Sangren, the unpopular drone of the Junior class. Seeing it was useless to try to escape her, we somewhat unwillingly consented to her sitting with us in the midst of the Packer City High School cheer- ing section. The day was very cold for this time of the year, and the crowd was utterly disappointed with the sup- posed outcome of the game. We were just going to give up and go home to a warm cup of cocoa after the middle of the fourth quarter when our team made a play that tied the score. Seeing there were only two more minutes to play, all eyes were focused on the star halfback, Terry Chandler. Now he is my idea of a man! He had achieved much success for the team in past victories by scor- ing during the last few minutes of the game. He has only lived in our town for a little over a year and is an honor student in the senior class at school. He was the leading man in the senior play, which turned out to be the best play ever produced in our high school. And so it was today that the decisive touch- down was scored by him, bringing us a 1 3-6 victory. Oh, what a joy! Everyone was so excited. Bells were ringing, horns were blowing, people were shouting, including Skitchy and me, who did our share. In fact everyone was in a very happy mood. As we joyously marched off the field behind our faithful high school band, I noticed Terry hailing me. There being quite a distance between us, I could moke out only these few words, Dance Tonight -8:30. I nodded, bewildered, for an invitation from the hero of the day was considered an honor. I cannot express my feelings at that moment. It was like a dream come true. Imagine my going to an important dance with such a person as Terry! It was unbeliev- able. However, not until later did I realize the situation. Because of the morning ' s events, I ate my turkey dinner with special enjoyment. In the middle of the afternoon, Skitchy drove up in his jalopy. In order to save a lot of embarrassing questions, I ran into the kitchen, filled the ice-bag, and placed it on my head. By this time Skitchy was already at the door. Telling him to wait just a minute, I ran up to my room, slipped into my housecoat, a beautiful blue silk which father and Willy had given me for my birthday and in which I look too fetchingly delicate. Finally I descended the stairs to answer the insistent ringing of the doorbell. I put a drop of lemon juice near my eyes to make them look red and held a lacy frilly handkerchief to my nose. When Skitchy saw these evidences of a cold, he hastily withdrew his invitation to go riding and, warning me to get rid of it quickly, dashed off. So relieved was I at his leaving before the housekeeper found me entertaining in that rig, that I dashed upstairs to prepare for the big evening to come. At 8 o ' clock my excitement was at its peak. The most gorgeous flowers had arrived a minute before, making the dress, a new one from Dad, complete. My head whirled as I flew from one room to the other. As usual, little brother was underfoot. In the midst of my excitement, the doorbell rang. As I hurried to the door, I wondered if I had mistaken the time of the invitation. To my amazement, upon opening the door, I found Skitchy. It came to me in a flash. Skitchy, because he had been going steady with me since practically the beginning of high school, had taken it for granted that I v as going to the dance with him. How could I ever tell him that I was going with Terry Chandler? I could just imagine the look that would appear on his face when I would tell him. Well, I had to break the news so . But just then, at that moment, my wise little brother came running in and blurted out What are you doing here? She ' s not going with you, she ' s going with her handsome foot- ball, hero, Terry Chandler! Skitchy ' s smile faded in a second. For the first time in history he believed my brother, for without waiting for an explanaton, he turned and left. His abrupt departure didn ' t dismay me at the time, for I was too taken up with getting ready for the Victory Dance. At 8:35, the telephone rang, and I was surprised to hear the excited voice of Elouise, telling me that Skitchy had just asked her to go to the dance. Dis- mayed, I slowly hung up the receiver. I was a little hurt because Skitchy and I had been going together so long but I did not think about this for long, for at that moment I glanced out the window and saw a sleek maroon roadster pass the house. I was shocked when I saw that the occupants were none other than my handsome hero, Terry, and a vivacious looking girl beside him. In a daze, I ran up to my room and threw myself on the bed. Review- ing the situation, it dawned on me that the girl next to Terry in the car was the one who had stood direct- ly in back of me in the march. It was to her that Terry ' s invitation had been directed! How can I explain this to Skitchy? JUDY, THE JUNIOR