Westerly High School - Westlyan Yearbook (Westerly, RI)

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The Senior Year Book — 1939 donning his villain outfit for the play to be presented. He tried his best to look the part, but really appeared more angelic than ever. “Spitz” Sposato was delicately adjusting his golden wig and smoothing the orchid folds of his gown. He was to be the heroine. Bob Perkins, the hero, was reading an engrossing account of Gulliver’s Travels. Freddy Raithel, accompanying the organ grinder, Joe Vocatura, was holding a hat and watching for pennies. (You’ve seen them doffing their caps, haven’t you?) And Joe was playing a new fangled instrument he had invented. The ship’s two secretaries, Sue Azzinaro and Sue Celestino, were beating a hundred a minute on typewriters, and Pat Gentile stood close at hand giving orders, as usual. He was tearing his hair with impatience, and Ann Simone, manager of the great operatic baritone. Emilio Guarino, was trying to soothe his nerves with a generous smile. Two eminent business men, Sam Fusaro and Wilfred Mathieu, were being entertained by little Ann Murano, a member of the Thirty-Niners” chorus. In a corner Fred Kenny, famous lecturer and debater against co-education, was munching a generous serving of prune pie with a decided smile of approval, as it was the result of the arduous labors of the ship-cook, Harriet King. As Joe Langworthy, Big League catcher, was talking shop to John Riley, celebrated mayor of Woodville, he heard a noise. “Johnny,” he said, “that dog is here again. Whereupon Mayor Riley, muttering disgustedly about stowaways, went to investigate. This time the dog lay on the deck, and Trovato stood near him. Revenge is sweet, but Trovato had to visit the ship’s dentist, James Angelo Sposato, to pay for it. The dog had been bitten rather badly. Sylvester Rose, quiet and unobtrusive dog catcher of Westerly, decided the bottom of the ocean was the place for him. But the pooch wasn’t dead yet. So the doctor had two patients, and the trouble was over. John Woodmansee, author of several books about the sea, and authority on the subject of navigation, smiled as he realized there would be no more mutiny aboard. Reverend Young, formerly known as Richard the Lion-Hearted, murmured a thankful prayer as we neared home-port and I, the unofficial visitor, had to make my departure. WALT—What thrilling experiences and how grand to know what our World of Tomorrow is to be like. Say, you haven't your souvenirs yet, have you? RITA, LOIS, and RAY (in chorus) — Gosh, no. RAY—Where are they, anyway? GEORGE—Right this way. Over here at this booth. (Presentation of Rita's, Lois’s, and Ray's gifts) LOIS—How about those other people at the gate who haven’t received theirs yet? They look disappointed. JESS—Well, suppose we find Tiny Jim? He’ll cheer them up. ELLA—Good! We’ll look for him. You go that way, Jess. I’ll look over here. Tiny Jim! (Jim squeezes between the Trylon and Perisphere, riding a tricycle and pulling a cart loaded with souvenirs.) JIM—Someone want me? JESS—Yes, Tiny Jim, help us pep up these boys and girls. JIM—Okay! Would you like to help me distribute these souvenirs? JESS—Sure, come on, Ella. (They distribute the gifts) JOE—You certainly must have cheered them up with those, but wheel look at the time. FLORENCE—We were so interested in the clown that we didn’t realize how the time has flown. MILDRED—Oh, I hate to go home. We’ve had such fun. WALT—Before we go, let’s sing our class song. We probably won’t be all together again like this for a long time. RAY—That's a grand idea. Come on, everybody join in. (Class sings class song) (Curtain) 18 )?►• -

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The Senior Year Book — 1939 came upon Eleanor Shippee and Eleanor Panciera leading their prize Guernsey cows to the State Fair. Then I heard a honk-honk” and turned to see Harry Tourtellotte and James Rose speeding down the main thoroughfare in his newly painted “pinkablue” jalopy. The colois were the very artistic combination created by Betty Kugler, who is also a world-famous portrait painter. The occupants, Nancy Alfiero, Margaret Lynch, Dot Fowkes, and Kay Jones, were enjoying the ride immensely but were a little indignant over the increase in price from five to seven cents admission to pay for the painting. Jumping in with them, I was told they were on their way to a barn dance. Didn’t we have fun there! The Hill-Billy orchestra was composed of Ginny Anderson, Josephine Bianchi, Thom-asine Blackler, and Blanche Dawley. Dot Bressette was proprietress. Mary Carlson and Irene Monti were holding the spotlight in a new kind of dance on contortion which they called the “Suzy Jones.” I staved there as long as I could stand it, and finally persuaded Harry to take me back to the place I started from. As we chugged along (we thought we were speeding at fifteen miles an hour) we noticed overhead a bright orange and purple airplane making all kinds of dangerous swoops and curves around us. It finally came to rest in a pasture (of all places!). Out popped Julia Ligouri, Mary Littlefield. Dot McLean, and Irene McCarthy, who had just completed a round-the-world flight in one day, three hours, and seventeen mmutes. What a climax, and what a great world, the World of Tomorrow is! Bv that time Rita and Lois found me and we came rushing out to tell all the news. LOIS—When I went in I walked first to a large dock and was thrilled to find a ship called the Thirtv-Niner” about to embark on a short cruise down the river. I seemed so interested that the captain invUed me to come along and I gladly accepted his invitation. All on board waved to friends on the shore and prepared to be comfortable. It was just dusk, and upon the deck could be seen the celebrated actor. Ray Smith, silhouetted against the setting sun. At his side stood a vivacious Spanish dancer, and both were intent upon their discussion, which, by the way, centered about the prospects of a moon. Below sat Stanley Suddarth, Professor of Physics at Vas-sar, and John Reardon, a devout follower of Einstein, deep in a debate as to whether the fourth dimension goes up and down or across. Altogether it made a beautiful picture, and Bud Saunders, New York’s example of an eligible socialite and model, vowed he would write home and tell his favorite interior decorator, Joe Pucci, all about it. Most prominent among the passengers was Walter Miller, the first U. S. President to be elected for a third term. As dusk settled upon the group. Captain Ken Taylor pompously sauntered over, reading a book. Frank Realini, the magician, didn’t have to look at its title to find out it was a history book, for the Captain's hobby is well known. He has written many books of history, published by Ma-jeika and Prizito, Incorporated. There were few women aboard the liner, much to Gerard Pothier’s satisfaction. He was by himself, probably brooding about his ill fate in having been made Principal of Westerly High School. As the group sat thus, there was suddenly a piercing shout The Captain rushed about the boat, aM finally located the commotion. Stretched out on the deck lay George Trovato, of haberdashery fame. A huge and ugly dog stood by, and unsuccessfully trying to escape was its owner, Bum-Bum Sposato. Doctor Jimmy Spezzano was called, and came dashing in with his right-hand man, Peter Levcowich. Peter bravely ran at the dog, brandishing the cook’s meat-cleavar, and the canine retired. A bad gash in the head marred Trovato’s lovely countenance and dulled his brilliant mind. He was nut to bed promptly, tucked in by his efficient secretary, Wilfred Priore. Meanwhile, preparations were being made for the evening’s entertainment. Ernie Vetelino could be heard warbling “Oh. Marie!” Carl Weall and Reinold Schilke, in their ring, were punching make-believe men around, each wishing the dummy were the other. Joe Bingley was putting on his trusty mustache and —«( 7)8—

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The Senior Year Book — 1939 Will JOSEPH CAPPUCCIO MILDRED LINK JOSEPHINE SANTORO History RUTH WHITFORD FLORENCE TAMER VIRGINIA ANDERSON Prophecy LOIS MAINES RITA ALEXANDER RAYMOND SMITH Gifts JESSIE MITCHELL ANGELA NARDONE JAMES HARVEY CLASS COLORS—Blue and Gold CLASS MOTTO Knowledge comes but wisdom lingers” (ElaaB htn HAVE YOU SEEN IT? Have you seen the stately tree outlined Against the azure sky? Have you seen the path that past its trunk Goes twisting, winding by? Have you seen the rock that 'neath its limbs Has stood for countless ages, And the moss of green with velvet sheen. And neighboring, tangled sages? Have you heard the songs of bees and birds, The fiddling of the cricket, And glimpsed a million butterflies Flit in and out the thicket? Have you seen the vulture soaring high. The eagle high above it? Then you’ve seen what we hope to attain And not what we just covet. For we are the tree, and the sky our world, Though the day’s not always fair. The strong rock is faith, which through the years Will keep us from despair. Then we walk along the twisting path. Our burdens often doubled, But the soft green moss is comfort and hope. No longer are we troubled. And the joyous songs of bees and birds And fiddling of the cricket. Reflect our busy, carefree hours. As we flit through Life—the thicket. The vulture casts a shadow of death. The eagle, a course set true— Oh God, give us both faith and strength. For we’re walking straight to You. --S{ I9)S— —FLORENCE TAMER.