Woodbury High School - Warrior Yearbook (Woodbury, CT)

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to be demonstrating the proper way to hold a young lady when dancing. I see now that he is a dancing instructor. He now turns toward me and—Frank Matula! Another scene immediately appears. It is a circus, a real circus. As the picture becomes more distinct, it reveals a man standing on a platform and yelling in a loud voice something about fli-as. Oh yes, he is telling the people that inside one may see trained fleas. We go inside the tent. The first thing I see is the back of a huge muscular man. He seems to be angry with one of the fleas and is trying to make him act as he wishes. As I approach I discover that it is none other than our class Valedictorian and humorist, Stanley Lusas. This scene quickly disappears and changes to another in the same circus. This time it is a lion’s cage. In it are several lions. A man is among them. He has his back turned toward one of the lions and it seems—yes, one of the lions is preparing to spring at him. But before he can, the little blond trainer turns around and stares the lion straight in the eye. The lion trembling, creeps off to a corner with his tail between his legs. At the same time I recognize Sigurd Lovdal, the world famous lion tamer. Again the scene changes and I am standing on the forward deck of a large pleasure yacht, off the Florida coast. Seated in a chair in front of me is a blond haired man with a characteristic Swedish face. He is leisurely smoking and reading. His face turns this way for an instant and I recognize Oscar Johnson, who is now a successful farmer off on a pleasure trip to southern waters. The scene fades rapidly and another takes its place. I am in a large building. Typewriters are clicking and phones ringing. Seated at a desk in one corner near a window is a young woman. She is busy drawing cartoons for a New York Daily. As I approach in curiosity, I recognize Elizabeth Martin. Now I feel peculiar—dizzy—all these scenes are revolving in my mind. Slowly, very slowly, it is growing lighter. At last—Why hello Margaret! It feels good to be normal again but didn’t it seem good to see our classmates again and find out what had become of them. I can’t realize it yet. CLASS POEM C. Robert Abbott We pause, as on some hill that only Youth can know, gazing far out yonder through a veil like falling snow. Dim it stands, and shining phosphorescent, pallid white; faint forms there outlining years still out of sight. Beneath it all, a-clutter, Life is freely strewn; and we catch glimpses, glances, tinted silver by the moon. It is so ghost-like, quiet, that in awe we seem to tremble, for ’tis ours to start it’s clamor; ours to fit and to assemble. How great this fleeting moment is, alien to Earth and common clay; we know as yet no space of time; no saddened life to choke the gay. Nor are we drunk like Age is, in the World’s old, wr tched ways; sitting, dreaming dreams in stupor; in a crabbed, stubborn daze. Ours are visions, tall and clinging fresh like breezes from the North, spirited and gaily bringing new ideas of value forth. So much to do, so many things undone, the greatest works are yet to be; perchance it may be one of us that makes a mark for Time to see. As we descend this vantage point and choose our course, and let youth go, let us hope, that we are wise in choosing; that the way not taken has no better show. Though this complex world may oft confound us with it’s many wiles, may we come through proud and happy, with a laurel crown; a wreath of smiles. And all those misty visions that we had ere we began, may they grow to true proportions, stretching broad, the world to span. Page Seventeen

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CLASS PROPHECY Raynall Coley—Margaret Smith The scene takes place in a modern laboratory in the year 1945. The world famous scientist, Raynall Coley, is discussing with his assistant Margaret Smith his latest invention in scientific analysis of medecine. The scientist is working on some apparatus at a table as his assistant enters. Scientist: Come here! Look! at Last! Assistant: Have you really perfected your invention? Scientist: Yes, look here—Here is a substance only as large as a common tablet but if one eats it, the effect produced will be such that he will be able to see just what his classmates are doing at the present time. Assistant: Whom shall we try it on? Scientist: Well suppose you try it first. However if you don’t want to risk it we can call in someone else, although I’d rather— Assistant: No, let me have one. I, too would like to see if it will be a success. Scientist: Here it is. Just eat it as you would a piece of candy. Assistant: It is growing dark. I feel strange— dizzy. I can’t seem to remember—It’s clearing slowly. I see—Ah! What is it? Yes it is a group of fashionable women, drinking tea and eagerly listening to someone—a man. He seems to be reading something. Poetry—oh! I recognize him now, my old classmate Robert Abbott. He certainly looks as though he were enjoying himself. He was made famous by his excellent poetry in high school. Now the scene is fading. But wait—another scene presents itself. It is a private office—modern in the extreme. A young woman is seated at a desk. She is examining a magazine labeled True Story.” There is a small sign on the desk It reads, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF. Yes, I know her. It is Helen Belz, one of the few girls in my class of ’33. We all remember her ability in writing love stories for English compositions. She appears very business-like and also capable of holding the position. Another scene. I see multitudes of flowers. It seems to be a warm climate. In the distance are long beaches filled with masses of people sunning themselves or bathing in the surf. It it California. So this is Hollywood! Let us look further. Now I can see hugh buildings and many actors and actresses. As I look in on one set I see a handsome young man surrounded by a large group of actresses. He appears very pleased; as though he enjoys being the center of attraction. So Bobby Fray went to Hollywood so that he could find plenty of pretty girls to amuse him. It seems to take a longer time now between the sketches of events concerning my classmates. Now I am at a dance. The place looks familiar. Wait! I know the place. It’s the old Woodbury Town Hall. Someone nearby is saying that it is Old Home Week. Everyone seems to be having a good time. Someone else remarks that the orchestra is marvelous. Lo and Behold! There stands Candace Thompson, conductor of Ye Old Village Band. She always had talent for music. The scene changes slowly. The effect of that tablet must be wearing off but at least I am able to see one more scene. This seems to be in a kindergarten. A young woman is occupied in helping a small child build up a pile of blocks, and at the same time keeping the other children busy and satisfied. She is extremely patient. There seems to be something familiar about her. A knock at the door—she rises and goes to answer it. It’s Maude Eyre. Well she certainly ought to be successful. She always was patient with children. I feel queer again. Everything vanishes. I feel perfectly restored but how can I find out about the rest of my classmates? I must confess, Raynall. that your experiment was a success while it lasted. Scientist: Yes it was marvelous. Now I’ll try one and perhaps I will be able to find out what the others are doing. Assistant: Yes, you try now. Scientist: I seem to be in a daze. Now my head is clearing. I can see a large race track— people cheering in the stands. It is the Indianapolis Speedway. A man in a racing car crosses the finish line and comes to an abrupt stop a few feet away. The judge hands the driver a cup amidst cheering and the camera men ask him to remove his goggles so that they may take a picture of his. He removes them. Why—its Harry Hull our Class President. He surely got plenty of experience driving that chewy” to and from school. Everything becomes a blank— no— another scene. This time I can see a young man in the midst of a group of men and women; he seems Page Sixteen

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Each lone soul will secretly be keeping communion with itself and planning wide, to make it’s peace with Earth and yet be holding, the slender key to Life Beyond, beside. This is our task—as some may call it-to us, let it be patient, loving play; and these are all our hopes and fancies which we will cherish, come what may. We may err, but there is wealth in erring; better to have erred than naught have done. And when you ask how we are fairing, may the answer be that We have won.” For Life is only what we make it, though there are those who proffer loyal aid; we thank them and would take it but God wants what we alone have made. Enough, therefore, and let’s be starting making what progress we can, vast throngs among, glad that we have had the fortune to be now so well begun. CLASS WILL Helen Belz—Maude Eyre Know all men by these presents: That we the class of 1933, of Woodbury High School, in the town of Woodbury, County of Litchfield, State of Connecticut, being of sound and disposing minds and memories, do make, publish, and declare the following to be our last will and testament, hereby revoking all former wills by us made: To William Swanson we leave a wreath of myrtle”. To Austen Bennet, a bow and arrow for use in protecting himself when among savages. To Concetta Rossi a private set of scales so that she can always have her own weigh. To David Stiles, more sales resistance, so that he will not have to be so obliging. To Raymond Taylor, a bonnet to set off his babyish looks. To Melvina Welles, her one big moment. To Dolly Wight, some new nicknames so that she will always know what to call people. To Adam Wittek, some original wise cracks. To Olive Bryant, the music for next year’s operetta so that she can begin practicing now. To Charles Grisgraber, a piece of slippery elm so that he may give the gum a rest. To Dorothy Wells, a pair of rubber heels. To Ruth Perry, a rope to restrain her when school is dismissed. To Donald Wilson, insurance on his smile. To Charlotte Karrmann, Foster Whitney’s double, so that she will not have to take him from Helen Munson. To Frank Dinateli, a new piano so that he will not have to use the one in the front hall. To Wayne Tarbox, a contract with Chase 6c Sanborn, so that he may put his talents to use. To Jean Canfield, some tasty yeast to give her some pep, vim, and vigor. To Harriet Swanson, a gag so that she will not be making a noise at the wrong time. To Walter Wedgwood, a temper, to go with his red hair. To Ruth Burton, a portable gasoline station for use in emergencies. To Norma Savage, some hair dye, in case he tires of blonds. To Harry Dennis and George Norton, special permission to entertain the eighth grade girls. To Paul Mansfield, a seat in the back of the room so that he will not get curvature of the spine turning around. To Mr. Knox, a bullet proof suit, to protect him from the Rifle Club. To Miss Clark, a supply of patience for use in her extra French Class. To Irene Olsen, a contract as Jean Harlow’s double. To Mr. Coombs, a little birdie to attract the attention of the Freshmen during Ancient History Class. To James Richards, the cast of the production 42nd Street” so that he can have a selection of dancing partners. Page Eighteen