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With Love 


The Girls of Rogers Hall 


The Rogers Hall Parents Association 

Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2012 with funding from 

Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries 

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The Memory of Rogers Hall 

(1892 - 1973) 

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1900 - 1973 

Final Edition 

Lowell, Massachusetts 






















































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Oft l^frWCO 

Editor-in- Chief 
Judith Emerson 

Literary Board 
Martha Bills Kimberly Kelly 

Marina Burliss Anna Reppucci 

Business Board 
Manager - Leanne Caddell 

Art Editor 
Deirdre O'Leary 

Art Contributors 
Diane Farmer (page 46) Heidi Holihan (page 52) 

Susan Hill (page 46) Cassandra Sampas (pages 43,65) 

Deirdre O'Leary (pages 51,58,59,64) 

Photography Contributors 
Martha Bills (pages 46,54,55,66) Deirdre O'Leary (pages 9,41,67,69, rear cover) 

Marina Burliss (page 50) Deborah Thiele (page 63) 

Informal Photographer 
Marina Burliss 

Faculty Literary Advisor Faculty Art Advisor 

Mrs. Dorothy A. Schecter Mrs. Dorothy I. Perloff 

Katharine Whitten MacGay Dormitory 



Probably the most universal theme of life is change. Nothing is 
absolute or perfectly stable. We are all affected by this phenomenon 
in countless ways. 

Man will forever be searching for new and better ways of life; may- 
be he will never be satisfied completely with what he finds. He is 
constantly growing, moving, winning and losing, seeking and finding 
knowledge about life and his place in life. Thus, change has become 
a fact of life. 

For Rogers Hall too, it is time to change. It has existed for eighty 
years; for eighty years it has contributed to the knowledge and growth 
of many, many girls. 

Rogers Hall will always remain spiritually in the hearts and minds 
of its daughters, faculty, and friends, although physically it will no 
longer exist. 

As adaptable human beings, we must accept the inevitability of 
this change - of the truth that "All things must pass." Undoubtedly, 
Rogers Hall has been a great school and much more. We must hang on 
to the hope that somehow the solid values of Rogers Hall will live on. 

Headmaster & Mrs. Ralph J. Bills 


In order to produce a fruit, a flower 

Must die. The bowl of every star-filled night, 

Emptied into grayness, swiftly fills with light 

And yields its stillness to the waking hour. 

Each soaring summer cloud gives down its shower; 

Each glistening winter day must fade from sight, 

And every whirling golden leaf in flight 

Gives witness to an inelastic power. 

Yet every change whose moment seems malign, 

Whose advent so conducive to regret, 

Is but the singing of another voice, 

Grating at its onset, growing fine, 

As with past voices it is gaily met 

To swell life's chorus, sing out, and rejoice. 

An individual is more apt to change perhaps than all the 
world around him. 

Daniel Webster 

"Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, 
I must speak. 


14 Broad Common Road 
Bristol, Rhode Island 

Johnson and 
Wales College 

"Yeah, I'm Bewndette Owmeeda— wanna 
make somethin of it?. . .But Burl. . .My 
daddy's giving me the Eldorado. . .little 
powerhouse. . .the kids in Bristol. . . 
AAAUGH!!!. . .goalie. . .Susie Myers. . . 
WOW. . .That Miss Tink, she don't do 
nothin'. . .Cal. . .Wot?. . .What's it like to 
spend a weekend in the dorm?. . .110 
m.p.h. down 38. . .House in the Pines. . . 
Patty. . .Bernie— telephone. . .Where's 
Burl?. . ." 

KAVA Club 

Field Hockey 4 
Social Committee 4 
Badminton 4 
Tennis 4 



29 Hanks Street 
Lowell, Massachusetts 

Bard College 
President of KAVA Club 

"It's about those legs, Martha. . .Oh, 
about eight months. . .mysterious black 
eye - the mad what of where?. . .a bud- 
ding Liz Taylor, no doubt. . .Ultra-fem- 
inine. . .me and my "Nubby". . ."Sure I 
know how to drive a standard - well, I'm 
learning". . . "the boak of ark trees" - 
OOPS. . .Absence makes the heart grow 
fonder, honest Miss Phelps. . .Rise and 
Shine!. . ." 

"Oft' shifts her passions like th 'inconstant wind; 
Sudden she rages, like the troubles main, Now 
sinks the storm and all is calm again. " 

KAVA Club 

Dramatics 3, 4 

Octet 3, 4 (President) 

R.H. Basketball 3 (J.V. Captain) 

Basketball 3, (manager), 4 (2nd team) 

Field Hockey 3, 4 

Badminton 3, 4 

Swimming 3 

Volleyball 3 (manager) 4 

Softball 4 

Student Council 3 (secretary/ treasurer) 4 

Splinters 4 

Splinters Art Staff 3, 4 

Drama Prize 


And the chief captain answered, " With a great sum, 
obtained I this freedom. " A nd Paul said, " But I was 
free born." 


25 Totman Road 
Dracut, Mass. 

Windham College 

President of 
Student Council 

"Student Council??What Student Coun- 



.I'm going to Urban Affairs. 

Cat. . . out to lunch - and breakfast and 
dinner and midnight snack. . .1 think I'll go 
up to the lake. . .I'm going to Urban Affairs 
. . . what a drag it is. . .Mr. President. . . 
keepontruckin'. . .George. . .wabble wabble 
. . .peace. . .can you dig it?. . .Maybe we'll 
have a council meeting next term. . .I'm 
going to Urban Affairs. . .1 wanna be freee. . . 
Switzerland or bust. . .Speaking of Switzer- 
land, Ma, how far can you swim?. . ." 

KAVA Club 

Splinters Art Staff 3 

Splinters Literary Board 4 

Student Council 3,4 

Senior Luncheon Committee 3 

Field Hockey 2, 3, 4 

Basketball 2, 3, 4 

R.H. Basketball 3 

Volleyball 1, 3 

Kickball 2 

Softball 4 

Badminton 3, 4 

Riding Club 2, 3 (president) 4 

Photography Club 2, 3, 4 




74 North Billerica Road 
Tewksbury, Massachusetts 

University of Denver 

of KAVA Club 

"Kerry campaigns - buddies with "John". . . 
I HATE school - Oh, Mrs. Schecter, your 
class is so much fun!. . .I'm heading west - 
can't wait to ski Vail. . . future lawyer and 
politician. . .But Schecter, I don't want to 
be a man this time!. . .Fred. . .Who goes to 
the library at P. A.?. . .Always go forward 
never go straight. . .Hampton Beach Escort 
. . .77. . ." 

"Let us consider the reason for the case. For nothing 
is law that is not reason." 

KAVA Club 

Octet 3, 4 

Dramatics 2,3, 4 

R.H. Basketball 4 (Captain J.V.) 

Splinters Business Board Manager 

Hockey 3 

Basketball 3 (2nd team) 3, 4 

Volleyball 2 (2nd team) 3, 4 

Badminton 3,4 

Kickball 2, 3, 4 

Softball 2, 3, 4 

Photography Club 2, 3 

Martha Howell Crinnion Social Studies Award 

R.H. Award 4 



30 Dalton Road 
Chelmsford, Massachusetts 

New England 
School of Art 

Editor of Splinters 

"There is no wealth but life. 

"I can't wait to see Pete..., Cocktails at 7:30— 
Ski Bum. ..Give me a hit. ..when I'm bored, I 
SLEEP. . .Judy are you feeling all right????. 
MEDITATION. ..The summer in MAINE.. 
I can't wait for Wednesday night..." 

CAE Club 

Class President 2, 3 

Student Council Vice-President 4 

Senior Luncheon Art Committee 2, 3 

Latin Club 2, 3 

French Club 2, 3 

Ski Club 2, 3 

Field Hockey Manager 4 

Splinters Art Staff 3, 4 

Social Committee 3 

Honor Roll 2 

Photography Club 4 



2 Lorraine Terrace 
Billerica, Massachusetts 

Boston University 

"For they can conquer who believe they can." 

"Fanny Farmer-in-the-Dell. . .Can I get 
Scramblers?. . . Tilton. . .Paul. . .Mama 
Miola. . .4-day school week. . .Chinese 
food. . .Waikiki. . .Cape Cod. . .Mark. . . 
expensive tastes. . .Strawberry Hill for- 
ever. . Jeff. . ." 

CAE Club 
Underhill Honor 4 



44 Arrowhead Road 
Weston, Massachusetts 

Nasson College 

President of 
The Senior Class 

"To him who in the love of nature holds com- 
munion with her visible forms, she speaks a 
various language." 

"Perpetual dieter. . ,'Pres". . .Goose 
Rocks. . .please spend the night, Heidi, I' 
think my house is haunted. . .me and my 
Cup O' Soup. . .Pay your IOU's. . .We're 
not making any money, you guys, we're 
not breaking even!. . . King Pin Lounge. . . 
Fried H. Clam. . ." 

KAVA Club 
Field Hockey 3, 4 
Volleyball 3, 4 
Basketball 3, 4 
Social Committee 3, 4 
Photography 3 
Kickball 4 


139 Elm Street 
Andover, Massachusetts 

University of New Hampshire 
President of CAE Club 

"SKI-man-SKl!. . .Brown ledge - NOT 
Brown nose. . .Hoi. . .Q-R-STEED. . .CAE 
always wins. . .It's organic. . .Where's 
YaYa?. . .Anyone want to buy a Boston 
Globe??. . .Let's go to Governor Dum- 
mer. Girls!. . .Sorry I'm late - I was de- 
layed by that CUTE policeman. . .Mac- 
Donald's French Fries. . ." 

"A mind not cultivated will not lie fallow for half 
an hour. " 

CAE Club 

Field Hockey 3, 4 

Volleyball 1 (2nd team), 2, 3, 4 

R.H. Basketball 2, 3, 4 

Basketball 2, 3, 4 

Softball 4 

Kickball 3, 4 

Swim Team 1, 2, 3 

Riding club 2, 3 

Ski Club 1, 2, 3 

Cheerleading 2, 3 

Columns Staff 2 

Photography Club 3 

Octet 3 

Tennis 3, 4 

Social committee 3, 4 

Student Council- 4 

Senior Luncheon Literary Board 3 (chairman) 

R.H. Award 2, 3, 4 




163 Luce Street 
Lowell, Massachusetts 

Lowell State College 

"The beautiful are never desloate, But someone 
always loves them." 

"JEFF?. . .French class with Joanne and 
Dede.. .Tuesday and Friday -. . .Concord, 
of course. . .quiet Kim— that's what they 
think. . .Problems, Marina?. . .U. of 
Tampa, maybe— for a tan?. . .Friday 
nights with the girls. . .RIGHT ON!. . . 

KAVA Club 

Field Hockey 2, 3, 4 

Volleyball 3 

Basketball 3 

Kickball 2 

Swimming 2, 3 

Ski Club 3 

Riding Club 3 

Latin Club 1, 2 

Splinters Literary Board 4 

Splinters Art Board 4 

R.H. -Brooks Choir 2 

Debate Club 3 

Cheerleading 2, 3, 4 


82 Village Hill Road 
Belmont, Massachusetts 

New England 
School of Art 

"My daddy said I can. . .MA-RI-NA. . .My 
new Opel GT. . .Rye Beach. . .1 wonder where 
we have seen that before?? TH E CABOOSE 
. . ., My friend has that too. . ., My friend's 
Butler. . .GRAND LARCENCY. . .Pig-Out 
Heavenly. . .my RARE necklace. . .$1.95. . . 
Swollen Mosquito bites. . .on time for 

"I am bound ever to swear allegiance to any 
master: where the wind carries me I put into port 
and make myself at home." 

CAE Club 
Hockey 4 
Basketball 2, 3 
Kickball 1, 2 
Tennis 3 
Riding Club 2, 3 
Photography Club 2, 3, 4 
Dramatics 2, 3, 4 
Art Committee 1, 2, 3 
Splinters Art Editor 4 
Columns 2 
Cheerleading 1, 2, 3 
Senior Luncheon 3 
Art Prize 



34 Clark Road 
Lowell, Mass. 

Rollins College 
Vice-President of CAE Club 

" The most wasted day of all is that on which we have 
not laughed." 

"Hi, guys. . . giggle. . .Smoochie Poochie 
. . .1 wish I was in Florida. . .Kram Rotnac. . . 
FRIZZIES. . Jacques. . .Hey, you guys - 1 
just bought!!!. . .Respiratory Inhibitors vs. 
Metabolism, whatever that means. . . Busch 
. . .dimples. . .Coo!. . .MG. . .Ravioli and tur- 
key!?!. . .Who called New Jersey?. . .Port 
St. Lucie. . .Willy Willy Wonk Wonk. . .D.C. 
. . . Well, ya know. . .Is the good ol' 442 ready 
yet, Glenna?. . .Go CAE!!. . .#22. . .Eh? 
. . .G.W.. . .Sorta kinda but not really — ya 
know, Dottiann?. . ." 

CAE Club 

Field Hockey 1, 2, 3, 4 

Volleyball 2, 3, 4 

Basketball 2, 3(mgr.), 4 (2nd team) 

Kickball 2, 3, 4 

Softball 2, 3, 4 

Badminton 3, 4 

Tennis 4 

R.H. Basketball 2, 3 (co-capt), 4 

Class Vice-President 1 

Choir 2 

French Club 2 

Riding Club 2, 3 

Student Council 3 

Debate Club 3 

Cheerleading 2, 3, 4 

Dramatics 1, 2, 3, 4 

Senior Luncheon Literary Committee 2 

Splinters Art Staff 4 

Splinters Literary Board 4 

R.H. Award 2, 3,4 

Helen Hill Award 



Montanas Calizas 720 
Mexico, DF 10 

University of Mexico City 

"JAY - Bertha Butt. . .wash your hair. . .al- 
ways sleeping. . .foul mouth. . .someone 
else's book. . .sleeps in Thiele's room.. . . 
many college acceptances. . .LEECH. . .cigar- 
ettes. . .tone deaf. . .gum is for the nose 
. . .But Calho-on!. . .little blue pencil case. . . 
Who cuts classes?. . .always siesta time. . ." 

" When you part from a friend, grieve not -for that 
which you love most in him is dearer in his absence. " 

CAE Club 



331 Wilder Street 
Lowell, Massachusetts 

Marietta College 

"All things bright and beautiful, 
A 11 creations great and small, 
A 11 things wise and wonderful, 
The Lord God made them all. " 

"Church on Sunday. . .1 know that I'm crazy 
. . .Now you know where I get my clumsi- 
ness. THE BLUE BOMBER. . . I just don't 
understand. . .One glass of wine?????" 

CAE Club 

Hockey 3, 4 

Basketball 3, 4 

R.H. Basketball 3, 4 

Volleyball 4 

Kickball 3 

Badminton 3, 4 

Tennis 3 

Spanish Club 3 

Splinters Art 3, 4 

CAE Nominating Committee 3 

R.H. Award 4 



131 Holyrood Avenue 
Lowell, Massachusetts 

Westfield State College 

"The HAND!. . .Basically and Primarily 
speaking. . . Exciting Downtown Port Saint 
Lucie. . .1 never get sick, not even after 9!. . . 
Governor. . .Tim. . .Adam's House. . . Stop 
being a trapezoid. . .Goonsville. . .Fort Hill 
. . .Broken toe. . .But Miss Phelps, It's not 
fair!. . .Eggroll. . .Chocolate Chip Muffins 
with Nooo Butter. . .Raviolies. . .Future 
Coach of Radcliffe Swim Team. . .Female, 
blue-eyed, white, angora cats are BLIND!" 

" We confide in our strength without boasting of it; 
we respect that of others without fearing it." 

CAE Club 

Field Hockey 3, 4 

Volleyball 2, 3, 4 

Basketball 2, 3, 4 

R.H. Basketball 2, 3, 4 (captain) 

Badminton 2, 3, 4 

Swimming 2, 3, 4 

Softball 3, 4 

Tennis 2, 3, 4 

Kickball 2, 3, 4 

Cheerleading 3, 4 

Latin Club 2 

French Club 2, 3 

Debate Club 4 

Social Committee 3 

Dramatics 3, 4 

Riding Club 3 

Ski Club 3, 4 

R.H. Award 3, 4 

Hildred Ramsay Award 

Athletic Award 


"Courage consists not in blindly overlooking danger, 
but in seeing it, and conquering it. " 


32 Montview Avenue 
Lowell, Massachusetts 

Fairleigh Dickenson 

"Badminton Ballerina. . .the trailer. . .egg 
rolls. . . Harvard Square, subways, and trains 
to Boston. . .the Drunk. . .up and down the 
spiral staircase again and again and again 
. . .interesting car shows. . .great at blind 
dates. . .Let's go to Notinis for candy!. . . 
paper due when?!?. . .Zvi -- Israel during 
the summer!?!. . .I'm a J. A. P. . . .Pinky. . ." 

CAE Club 
Riding Club 3 
Ski Club 4 



150 Euclid Avenue 
Hackensack, New Jersey 

Bergen Community College 

"MATT. . .far-out socks. . .quick sayings. . . 
jiving to Stephen Stills and Credence Clear- 
water. . .waffle-stompers. . .MOLLY! Don't 
you know how to iron?. . .MATT' 

"Sincerity is like traveling in a plain beaten road, 
which commonly brings a man sooner to his journey's 
end than byways in which men often lose them- 
selves. " 

CAE Club 
Octet 4 
Dramatics 3, 4 



28 Lansing Avenue 
Haverhill, Massachusetts 

Bradford College 

"In this world it is not what we take up, but what we 
give up that makes us rich." 

"YaYa. . .Guess what my father did now. . . 
Perry. . .The UnforgetabletriptoHolihans 
. . .Bolton Valley. . .Never does her French 
. . .Peaches. . .Steena. . .Grandma's under- 
wear. . .THUNDER HIPS!!!. . .Avon Lady!. 
TIME FOR PSYCHO-Path. . .Heidi - 
HEIDI!!. . .She's a ninny. . ." 

KAVA Club 
Field Hockey 4 
Volleyball 3 (2nd team), 4 
Basketball 3 (2nd team captain) 

4 (team manager) 
R.H. Basketball 3 (2nd team) 
Kickball 3, 4 
Softball 4 
Dramatics 3, 4 
Badminton 3 
Social Committee 3, 4 (chairman) 



It is the year 2000 and we are here to report an extra special event. It is the inaugural ball of the 
first woman President of the United States. Here to celebrate her appointment is the President's 
high school graduating class. It is winter here in Washington, and the White House looks like a pic- 
ture in a story book: "Grimm's Fairy Tales", perhaps... One moment... I believe the guest of honor is 
here now. Yes! President Caddell is arriving now and she looks lovely. She has been slenderized by 
the not-so-new White House exercise routine, "Watering Gates". The President is being escorted by 
her running mate, John Kerry. (I'm sure all of her classmates remember Sexy John.) 

Following President Caddell is another important figure in politics, Bertha Rodriguez. She too 
has been slanderized.. .excuse me . . .SLENderized by the "Watering Gates" routine. It seems to be 
the latest rage among politic-ers. Ms. Rodriguez has been recently appointed to the position of Mexi- 
can Ambassador to the U.S. She has accomplished many things over the past twenty-seven years. 
She has even established her own college. For those of you who went to school with Bertha, you may 
recall her multi-college entrance practice with her brother. She has also had a book published, / Was 
a Teen-aged Wetback and Never Knew It. 

And here comes Judy Kingston (formerly Judy Emerson). Ms. Kingston has inherited a wad from 
the Maharishi (and you wondered where your $35 went) and has bought out her father's real estate 
business. She specializes in communal property, in case anyone is interested. She arrived on her 
elephant from her aesthetic stay in the Himalayas where she was nominated for the Guru of the Year 

Who is this coming in now? Could it be? Why, yes, it's Glenna Scannell in her R.H. tank suit. 
YOWSER! What is she doing now? I do believe she is getting the gang together for a basketball 
game. (Well, maybe we'll win this time.) Unfortunately, while Ms. Scannell was teaching basketball 
to the Moody Schoolers, she was trampled on the court by a band of raving seventh graders in the sec- 
ond quarter and had to be peeled off the floor when she was discovered the next day. Poor Ms. Scan- 
nell just hasn't been the same since. 

Here comes Bernie Almeida. She is now a social worker in Bristol. She has been married seven 
times and is the proud mother of twenty-three. Ms. Almeida is presently living in a "really big shoe". 
(Little joke there.) She is writing a book between diaper changes entitled, A Pregnant Woman's 
Guide to Self- Defense. 

Following Ms. Almeida is Elaine Sherman. She is this year's winner of the Jeannie Demoulas 
Alumnae Award: "All You Ever Wanted to Know About Dating When You're Not Allowed To". Of 
course, Elaine has been successful in her field, too. She has become a noted authority on GREEK 
Tragedy as a result of that awe inspiring course of Dottiann's. 

Ah, Marina Burliss just flew in (oddly enough she didn't come by plane). She spends much of 
her time in a space shot to the moon where she is filming her latest picture, "Lust in Space". She 
brought with her some slides of the good of days at R.H. which we shall view later. 

Ms. Diane Farmer has just arrived with five escorts! Upon returning from her latest trip to 
Tahiti, Diane's skin is indestinguishable from the natives'. She has purchased her fourth house in 
Hawaii with the million she made on her best-seller, How to Lose Thirty-Five Pounds and Remain 
the Same Weight. 

Anna Reppucci has just flown in from Port St. Lucie where she runs a private clinic for Res- 
piratory Inhibitors. She brought her brood of giggling bambinos who are having a pasta flinging 
contest in the Rotunda. However, Anna is a great disciplinarian, and she is now putting the little 
br-oops-children back in their straitjackets — just in time for Glenna's basketball game which will 
be played R.H. style: no fingers. 


Molly Smith sent word that she would attend the inauguration via closed circuit T. V. Molly's 
days with the Octet inspired her to form the Hackensack Hallelujia Choir which travels nationwide 
on Cassie's Prayer Meeting Circuit. Unfortunately, Matt made her give up her soul dancing career 
because she was attracting too many admirers. 

And who have we here? Why yes, it's that world renowned Hollywood star, Patty Cake (alias 
Martha Bills). She arrived in a chauffered limo with her rock'n'roll star counterpart, Little Richy Fay 
(that's Fay with an F). Her latest film, "The Great Shave", is the story of a pair of legs whose flesh 
was lost in a deep, dark jungle. After the surprisingly realistic filming, it is rumored that Ms. Cake 
purchased one thousand shares of stock in the Gillette Company. She has written a book between films 
entitled How to Train Your Parents in Ten Easy Lessons. 

It seems that someone has fallen on her face while walking through the door. It must be, yes it is, 
it's Reverend Sampas. She has replaced Billy Graham as the White House chaplain, and, therefore, 
will be leading the prayer in the ceremonies. It seems that Reverend Sampas had a little car trouble 
on her way here. While travelling twenty m.p.h. down the highway, "The Bomber" finally died. She 
will be holding services throughout the day in case anyone is interested. 

We've just received a telegram signed H.R.H. It must be Her Royal Highness, Heidi Holihan. 
Heidi says she cannot attend. On her way to the airport she stopped to help change a flat tire and now 
her schedule is off. Heidi is now the president of H.R.H. which has recently purchased Park Ave. and 
the entire McDonald's chain and is moving on to bigger and better things. Along with her telegram 
came one hundred subscriptions to the Boston Globe, to be used as door prizes. 

And here comes Susan Hill. She and H.R.H. enterprises are half owners of the Lantern Brunch. 
Ms. Hill is living on her organic farm in New Hampshire where she teaches Yoga and goes on diets. 
She is often referred to as "Magic Susan" because of her finesse in harmonica playing. 

Kim Kelly has just arrived. She finally made it! She apologizes for being late but she had an 
interview at Whatsamatahfor U. (founded by Big Bertha). She is determined to find an institution 
where she can pursue her education. Kim has taken her SAT's 476 times and has finally hit 400. YEH 
for Kim! Word has just arrived that she, too, has had car trouble. She hopes Jimbo has learned his 

Dede O'Leary was unable to make the celebration. She is spending a few months at the Louvre. 
Originally she had planned on spending just a month but it took her some time to find it. She kept on 
asking directions to LaLover and BOY, did they show her!!! She recently opened a Greek jewelry 
store called "O'Leary's". (Do you suppose someone should tell her?) If you ever want to find Dede, 
just look for her new, green, convertible MG out front. 

Last, but as everyone knows, not least is everyone's Yaya, Kris Tikelis and Peaches. Ms. Tikelis 
is still applying to colleges with Kim. Yaya was late, of course. She hit a cop on the corner in her hurry 
to make it on time, to the paahty. Perry is waiting outside in the parking lot for her. OOPS!!! Peaches 
just left his calling card on the Whitehouse carpet! That's my cue.. .Time to get on with the Caddell/- 
Kerry bash... 



WE LEAVE. . . 

MR. BILLS a squirt gun and whiffleball bat to chase away unwanted prowlers in the night. 

MRS. BILLS an answer to the question "Who is 'Big Mama'?" 

MISS BAIN one student with an answer to "Como esta usted?" 

MS. CALHOON a birthday cake for every month of the year. 

MRS. COLLINS a psychology class in the smoker. 

MRS. FRAGALE a skateboard to get Mr. Bills's coffee more quickly. 

MR.GREGORa "relevant" algebra class and a gift certificate from Mrs. Gerber, for baby food, not flowers. 

MISS JACKSON a fulfillment of her fantasy - a cast which can learn lines. 

M RS. L ATOU R a recording of her visits from Photine and Jill and a typed portrait of Elizabeth Rogers. 

MRS. LEARY an ambulance for Bertha and a wailing wall for all other complaints. 

MR. PASKO 6.02 x 10 23 molecules of his geometry class. 

MRS. PASKO sinking slowly over the other side of the hill after Founder's Day. 

MRS. PERLOFF an art class, duty-free weekends at Proctor Academy, and a pair of snuggies for cold winters 

MISS PHELPS sitting in the bleachers at a Red Sox Game eating hot dogs during the 13th inning. 
M RS. PHINNEY instructions on how to open the hood of her car and a fully accounted for phone bill. 
MRS. RIDDELL a VERY quiet dorm. 
M RS. SCH ECTER a 6 inch fall with split ends and a supply of bubble gum so she has something to do during 

her long hard hours of unemployment. 
MISS SMILEY Kava's outstanding record along with one season with a winning basketball team. 
CHARLIE Julia Child's latest cookbook with a special section -"What to Prepare During Meat Boycotts." 
BILL and ROGER an ice smoothing machine to clean off the townies' scrapings. 

BERN IE ALMEIDA leaves her hot Portuguese blood to Ana Gregorio and her weekend pass to Diana 

MARTHA BILLS leaves her hairy legs to Ralph and her alarm clock to Pam Gudritz. 
MARINA BURLISS leaves Diana and Dede on their own. 
LEANNECADDELL leaves her Mustang by the side of the road on her way to the University of Denver 

(sight unseen) in pursuit of research on the subject of "Ibid". 
JUDY EMERSON leaves Pete to NOBODY. 

DIANE FARMER leaves her diet in the parking lot of the Royal Pagoda. 
KIM KELLY leaves early through the back door - for her reading class, of course. 
SUSAN HILL leaves quietly after having said for the last time - "Please pay your I.O.U.'s." 
HEIDI HOLIH AN leaves her organic tea in the dining room and her long list of unfinished school business 

on the telephone. 
DEDE O'LEARY leaves, if she ever decides to come, her Opel parked in the driveway pointed towards 

N.H. - but not for long! 
ANNA REPPUCCI leaves her wire hair brush to anyone with the frizzies. 
BERTHA RODRIGU EZ leaves her definition of what a mental retard is to Thiele and her Free singing lessons 

and twelve cases of ketchup to Susie Djinivis. 
CASS IE SAM PAS leaves her bruised knees, broken glasses, and broken fingers to Martha Williams. 
GLENNA SCANNELL leaves her 442 to the junkman. 
ELAINE SHERMAN leaves her escape manual to Honey Hirsch. 
MOLLY SMITH leaves her taped Poetry classes to Missy Owens and posterity. 
KRIS TIKELIS leaves Peaches' calling cards on the rugs. 












Joanne Dawson 
. . . . Rained Out 



D. Demoulas 
H. Hirsch 
H. Seiler 
A. Reppucci 
J. Dawson 
P. Gudritz 
M. Smith 

C. Sampas 

D. Thiele 

H. Holihan 
J. Coughlin 
D. Robinson 
B. Rodriguez 
D. Wilson 
G. Scannell 
L. Tennyson 
D. O'Leary 

Manager - J. Emerson 


G. Scannell 
H. Seiler 
P. Gudritz 
J. Dawson 
H. Holihan 

D. Thiele 

C. Sampas 
A. Reppucci 

D. Robinson 
M. McWilliams 


J. Leroux 
M. Bills 
P. Mangiavis 
A. Gregorio 
M. Williams 
M. Rynne 
E. Balkas 
K. Kelly 

M. Burliss 
E. Healey 
L. Caddell 
K. Tikelis 

D. Dickenson 
P. Balkas 

E. Eichorn 
B. Almeida 

Manager - M. Owens 


E. Healey 
M. Williams 
M. Rynne 
A. Gregorio 
S. Hill 

J. Leroux 
E. Balkas 
P. Balkas 
L. Caddell 
M. Bills 

Manager - K. Tikelis 



J. Dawson 
P. Gudritz 
H. Holihan 
A. Reppucci 

C. Sampas 
G. Scannell 
H. Seiler 

D. Thiele 

L. Caddell 
E. Healey 
M. Rynne 
M. Williams 




P. Gudritz 
M. Williams 
J. Dawson 
H. Seiler 
E. Healey 

CAE - KAVA Songs 

A. Gregorio 
E. Balkas 
P. Balkas 
L. Caddell 
D. Thiele 


M. Rynne #41 
M. Williams #30 
G. Scannell #4 
J. Dawson #3 
P. Gudritz #15 
H. Seiler #42 
A. Reppucci #22 
H. Holihan #13 



Jr. Varsity 

L. Caddell #12 

C. Sampas #35 
E. Healey #24 

D. Thiele #21 
A. Gregorio #1 1 

E. Balkas #34 
P. Balkas #10 

Welcome Susan Hill, President 

Will read by Anna Reppucci 

Senior Class Song 

Prophecy read by Martha Bills 

Undergraduate Song to the Seniors 





Dr. Ralph D. Rutenber 
President, National Association of Principals of Schools for Girls 

Diane Farmer 


Anna Reppucci 


Glenna Scannell 


Deirdre O'Leary 


Leanne Caddell 


Martha Bills 


Glenna Scannell 


Undergraduate: Julie Coughlin 


All the beautiful sentiments in the world weigh less than a single lovely 

James Russell Lowell 



/ use the camera to hold up my hand. . . 


Front: Reppucci (vice-pres.), Holihan )pres.) 

Seated: Woodman, Dawson, Wilson, Seiler, Gudritz, Emerson 

3rd row: Thiele, Sherman, Sampas, Robinson, Rodriquez, Tennyson 

4th row: Scannell, Demoulas, Hirsch, O'Leary. 

Super Jocks 

Our Father, who art. 


Hot Seats 

Now, would I hurt you? 

Sez who? 


She'll never notice the blotches 

Front: Bills (Pres.); Caddell (Vice-pres.) 

Seated: Tatelman, P. Balkas, Healey, Rynne, Leroux, Williams 
3rd row: Dickenson, Almeida, Cowain, Owens, Gregorio, Tikelis, E. Balkas 
4th row: Djinivis, Mangiavis, Fenick, Eichorn, Hill 



, '"! 


V, , 


The Junior Class 

Tell me about your dicipline problem... 

I'm crying - no one will 
take me to my driver's test. 


But my mummy says I'll 
look lovely in a uniform... 

Who's gonna stop me? 

Come on guys! 

But my nose wasn't in the 

Think I'll run away. 


/ can lick'em all 

Just back from New York 
and I don't feel a thing 

The Sophmore Class 


Cycle Momma 

And now for my lecture on 
Pre- Mortal Sex 


™T :%%r g t 0Mm > i ">^ 

The Freshman Class 




^k M 


f ^1 


^£- ..«>-».-. Jk 

*& 4 



mm m 

Um m\w Wm ^M^^^l ^K 

^» ^^^^^^m 


Hv / 

Just wait 

ti l I tell JiU! 

more hours and I 

can Sohomt 


Beauty is the only thing that time cannot harm. Philosophies fall away 
like sand, and creeds follow one another like the withered leaves of 
autumn; but what is beautiful is a joy for all seasons and a possession 
for all eternity. 

Oscar Wilde 



Perfect Moment 

At the edge of the meadow, two towering oaks 
mark the entrance to the trail leading to the river. 
A narrow dirt footpath follows directly parallel to 
the powerful current of the water. It runs danger- 
ously close to the edge of the banking, which has 
a steep decline that disappears among the twist- 
ing ancient roots of its wooden pillars. On either 
side of the path, the wild beauty thrives, and the 
unrefined state of wilderness overwhelms me with 
the glory of its perfection. 

Julie Coughlin '75 


The Lesson 

George Rocco was seven years old and attended the Greenwood Center School in Tale 
Glen, Arizona. Unlike the other children in his class, George lacked pre-school insturction be- 
cause of a serious illness when he was five. This loss made the adjustment to first grade 
very difficult for him. George was shy and felt uneasy with other children. As a result, he had 
no friends and was often taunted. However, George's lonely condition didn't last too long. 
It was only a matter of days before he was on his way home with a note of suspension. 

George had been out at recess in his usual corner when it happened. The other children 
were involved in a rock throwing contest inspired by Joseph Bull. The target was an old oak 
tree at the far end of the yard. Unfortunately, the teacher's car obstructed the view of the 
target. Just as Joe was ready to throw the rock, he caught sight of George. "Hey George," 
he shouted, "you big sissy. Bet you couldn't hit a barn door a foot in front of you." When 
George paid no attention, Joe gave up and proceeded to throw the rock which swerved and 
smashed the car window. 

All the boys looked in amazement at what Joe had done. Then they began to run. Joe took 
off because he knew that Mr. Jones would be coming to investigate the crash. George, 
still in his corner, was in shock and couldn't move. Just then, Mr. Jones came around the cor- 
ner and saw the broken window. He advanced on George. "What did you do to the window, 

George couldn't say anything. He was paralyzed with fright. 

"Young man, I am talking to you. Did you break the window, and if so why?" Mr. Jones's 
voice seemed to get louder and louder. But George couldn't reply. In exasperation Mr. Jones 
took George by the hand and led him into his office. There, after further efforts to get George 
to talk, Mr. Jones wrote a suspension note and sent George home. 

George would never forget his slow journey home. When he got there, his mother was in 
her favorite chair watching T.V. 

"Hello, George. Aren't you home early? How was school today?" asked Mrs. Rocco. 

"I have something for you." said George, very scared. He then handed her the note. His 
mother didn't know what it was at first, but as she read it, her face grew white with anger. 

"Why did you break the window?" his mother asked furiously. 

"I - I didn't do it, Mom." George blurted out. 

"Don't lie to me, son. I know you did it because otherwise they wouldn't have sent this 
note home to me. Now why did you break the window?" asked Mrs. Rocco, getting more 
and more angry. 

George didn't answer her this time, so his mother sent him to his room until his father 
came home. 

At 7:00 that night, George's father came home from work. Mrs. Rocco called George to 
come down and talk to his father. When George walked into the room, his father had the note 
of suspension in his hand. 

"Sit down, son, and tell me what happened." Mr. Rocco said. 

George sat down directly facing his father. "I didn't do it, Dad." said George rather soft- 

"Now, George, I'm ashamed of you. I thought I'd brought you up to respect me. Why won't 

you tell your father the truth?" demanded his father. 

But, Dad, it wasn't me," said George, almost bursting into tears. 

"You can go to your room now, and please don't come out until you're ready to admit 
your mistake.''' 

George slowly went up to his room where he lay huddled on his bed, confused and un- 
sure of what to do next. Sometime later, he heard his parents go onto their room. It was 
then that he made his decision. 

He got up and knocked softly on his father's door. "Come in," he heard his father say. 
George opened the door. His hands were shaking and he felt a little sweaty all over. 

"Is there something you want to tell us?" asked his mother. 

"Yes. I'm sorry I broke the window. It was a mistake. I won't do it again," said George. 

Then his father came to him, picked him up, and carried him to his bed. "You don't ever 
have to be afraid to tell the truth to your parents," his father said. "We will never punish 
you for telling the truth because honesty is the most important thing a little boy can learn." 

Diana Demoulas '74 


You're a Big Boy Now 

Remember the days when you'd wake up to the smell of bacon and eggs 

And spend the morning crawling under porches, climbing trees, 

And fishing for sunnies with your brother? 

And when you'd fall off your swingset and scrape your elbow 

Your mommy would kiss it and give you a Bullwinkle band-aid? 

Life was one big bowl of pitted cherries. 

Well, you're on your own now, punk. 

You've finally flown the old proverbial nest. 

There's no more Mommy to dry your tears 

And no more breakfast waiting for you 

You'd look silly under a porch and you've lost your touch for climbing trees. 

It's up to you now, and you're scared senseless. 

You've got five bucks in your pocket and it's only Tuesday. 

Your landlady wants the rent (last week's rent). 

It would be so easy to go home... 

Or would it? 

Martha Bills 13 


Before the Storm 

The sun squints through a blanket of clouds. 

The eye slowly closes; around it, wispy strands 

weave themselves into a grayish mass. 

This mass seems to be hurrying to reach 

some mysterious destination. 
The air is strange and cool, for our 

fiery furnace has been barricaded from us. 
There is a hint of salvation - but 
It's the last hole being mended. 
And suddenly... 
A piercing white sword, 
the thundering clashes of Hell, 
and Infinity's aquatic gates open. 

Judy Emerson 73 

What is Time? 

Can you hold it? Can you see it? 

Are you sure it is there? 
Yet we all live by it, work by it, and 

even dream by it. 
When you're happy, it seems to 

run away to spite you. 
When you're sad, it hangs around 

and adds to your misery. 
Why can't we control it? 

All we can do is measure it? 
Yet what good can that do? 

Diane Farmer 75 



The year is 1984 and the place is in western China, now heavily policed by government 
troops. No one either comes into or leaves the country alive. It is a year of change. Nothing 
can stop the nation's progress now that the Communists are firmly in command. After all, 
why would anyone want to rebel? Tight control is beneficial to all the people. Who dares say 
that the "Progress" is beneficial to only those in control? Before the movement, China had 
been a place of peace and tranquility, where people could do as they pleased. Of course, edu- 
cation was limited, poverty was widespread, and "Progress" was little. Now China is a place 
of turmoil where the only important factors are "Progress" and obedience to the rules of the 
master plan that makes "Progress" possible. 

Yen Wang was a peasant farmer who, all his life, had dreamed of freedom and riches in 
other lands. Before the government reform, the people had been able to leave and reenter the 
country as they pleased. Yen's father had traveled as far as the United States on a government 
job and had seen how Western nations live. Because of this job, he had been much more edu- 
cated and wealthy than most of his neighbors. Yet, after the reform, even the richest fell into 
a kind of poverty known as equal distribution of wealth. Yen had grown up in a Chinese 
commune with his mother, father, and three sisters. 

When he reached the age of fourteen, his father died, leaving Yen with the responsibility 
of the family household. Yen hated every minute of the kind of life he was forced to lead. He 
hated getting up at five in the morning when the sky was still dark and going to the fields 
where he worked till sundown. He hated his constant fear of being late, for which he would 
be beaten. The government did not tolerate several things: hindering "Progress"; speaking 
distastefully of reform; and tardiness. Yen disliked the way the government treated him. 
He wanted to be an individual, to be able to express himself like the Americans of whom his 
father told him many stories. He knew, of course, that his discontent was dangerous. Any- 
one who sought freedom and was caught would be severely punished or killed. 

Yen had many friends who felt the same as he. They disliked being treated like automatons, 
yet they weren't educated enough to know about other possible ways of life. They were too 
scared to revolt, to fight for their freedom. After years of dreaming about his independence, 
Yen decided to act. He held a secret meeting with five of his closest friends inside a small de- 
serted church, located on the edge of the commune. At the meeting, Yen proposed his plans. 

"1 asked you all here tonight to discuss a plan to which I've given much thought. Many of 
you complain secretly to me of the repression of the communist movement, yet none of you 
in any way resist its command. Each time one of you is asked to resist, you run away like a 
sick chicken, scared and shaking." 

"Yes," cried one of the friends, "1 run away like a sick chicken because I know the power 
of their weapons and don't want to feel them on my flesh." 

"What is the plan?" asked another. "And how do you think you can carry it out without 
getting killed?" 

"You are a fool, Yen, and value your life very little." "1 admit I am scared of their power, . 
I also value my life, and 1 have seen people writhe with the pain of their torture," cried Yen's 
best friend, Chung Lin. 

"I do not say I am not scared, but this is not the way our country used to be, and 1 have 
chosen to leave and to search for a better homeland," replied Yen. 

"And, my dear Yen, how do you expect to get to the border and past the guards - fly? 

"No, Chung. We would walk. It is fifty miles to the border, as you can see by this map my 
father gave me." He pointed out their location. "We would travel by night in order not to get 
caught by the patrols. When we reach the border, we will wait until the guards are relaxed, 
then run for it. It would be hard for the guards to see us in the dark. You are all my closest 
friends, and I am asking you to come with me so that you can share my happiness of freedom. 
But no matter what you decide, I will go either with companions or alone. Do what you wish. 
"Yen, it is a fool's plan. The border is probably too heavily guarded for one person to get 


through, never mind six of us. You know I would be the first to go, but I have a family. I would 
not leave them behind, alone and helpless, for my selfish dreams. I will have to say 'no' and I 
advise the rest of you to do the same," replied Chung. It was obvious that everyone agreed 
with Chung by the looks on their faces, sympathetic yet frightened. 

"1 thank you all for coming tonight. I ask only for your secrecy until my departure, which 
will be tomorrow night. It is important that no one knows of my plans except you few or I 
will surely be caught and killed. They all agreed and left the church, their grim faces looking 
as if they knew Yen's fate. 

On the next day, Yen went to the fields as usual at five o'clock. While he worked, he thought 
of how he would tell his family. He couldn't just run out on them without an explanation. 
He prayed they would understand. When he got home Lee Wong was there waiting outside. 
He, one of the five friends at the meeting, had decided he wanted to go. He offered no explan- 
ation, just that he wanted to go. Yen told him to wait and he quickly entered the house. 

"Mother! Sisters! Come here, I have something to tell you." 

"What is it, Yen?" asked his mother, hurrying into the room with the girls close behind. 

"I have to explain something to you all and I hope you will understand. I must leave to- 

"Leave? What are you saying, Yen? Where are you going? asked his mother. 

"I am going to find freedom, Mother. I cannot stand another day of farming, of being told 
what to do every minute of my life. Remember the stories Father used to tell of other coun- 
tries where people are free and allowed to do whatever they want? Well, I am going to search 
for one of those places. And I ask only for your forgiveness and blessing. I must go. 

"You are undertaking a very dangerous journey, my son, and if I could stop you, I would. 
But I am old and tired. If you must go, then go quickly. Your sisters and I will get along some- 
how. I give you my blessing. 

"Thank you, Mother. If I find my freedom, someday I will come back to get you and my 
sisters to bring you to my dream." And to his sisters he said, "I will expect you to take care of 
our mother until I am able to come back. Goodbye, my family." 

"Goodbye, Yen," they cried. 

Outside, he met Wong, and they started on their difficult journey. They felt confident, 
for they had enough food and water for several days, and they were young and strong. They 
traveled miles by night and rested in secluded, well-covered areas by day. 

On the fourth day Wong fell ill. On the fifth, he died. He had been bitten by the blue ring- 
tailed snake, and though Yen tried, there had been no way to relieve his agony. Yen's grief 
and guilt were unbearable, but he had to go on. He could not give up now. On the sixth night, 
the border guards were in sight. Yen studied the pattern of their movements and waited for 
the right moment to run for it. When he ran, he ran hard with a lifetime of determination 
in his heart. As he scaled the fence that marked the border, flood lights flashed and he saw the 
guns pointed at him. He saw no more. Yen's father had not told him of the flashing lights. 

Joanne Dawson '75 

The Beginning 

Winding down an endless road 
The colors from lights flashing 
On wet pavement 
Wondering and thinking 
Twisting 'round curves 
Lightning streaks guiding the way 
I disappear into the lonely night 
And my thoughts return to you 

Honey Hirsch '74 


It Is Time... 

Mommy and Daddy I love you, 
And I know you love me. 
But now 1 must move away from you, 
It is time for me to be free. 

I have been so very happy here, 
But now it is time for me to go. 
As much as I want to stay near. 
Here 1 can no longer grow. 

Daddy, I am growing up now 
Despite your attempts to save me. 
It had to happen somehow, 
Won't you please let me be free? 

Mommy, you've worked so hard 
To bring me up right. 
Now please let down you guard. 
Don't hold on so tight. 

Please don't ever forget, 
As parents sometimes do, 
No matter how far away I get, 
I will always love you. 

Cassandra Sampas '73 

?' S 

One day while sitting alone, 

I began thinking about everything. 

Some things were beautiful - 

Some were not. 

But I thought about everything. 

When will everything come to an end? 

I can't give myself an answer. 

It isn't a very hard question, 

Why can't I answer it? 

Maybe I'm not the only one who wants to know. 

Maybe I can ask someone else. 

But will he know? 

I guess everything is a question. 

What do you think? 

Glenna Scannell '73 


Freshman Commentary 

School, School, School- 
My head is spinning 
And feeling light 
So much homework 
My schedule's a fright 
Get so nervous 
I sometimes fight 
How tragic 
I wish I were magic- 

Jill Tat elm an '76 

From the diary of a Poetess 

There I was 

listening to the buzz 

coming from the bee 

planning to sting ME! 


I climbed up a tree 

but the bee followed me 

and I fell from the tree 

and landed in the grass! 

There I was 

with a sting in my rump. 

Dede Wilson '75 


Spooky is as black as coal with yellowish-green eyes that glow like a burning twig in 
the night. Her paws are little white booties. She's the great and mighty huntress that 
slinks along and leaps upon her prey. 

At times she's quieter than a mouse, but at other times, as noisy as a crying baby. 
Spooky hisses and spits like an angry snake. 

If Spooky is startled, she will run like a cheetah, but if she's just walking in the yard, 
she totters like an old lady. In the summer, she soaks in the sun's rays, and in the winter, 
quivers in a snowdrift in our back yard. 

The kitchen is the warmest room in the house, and Spooky enjoys bathing herself in 
front of our old-fashioned fireplace. When she finishes washing herself, she will watch the 
dancing flame until she slowly sinks into sleep. 

At Christmastime, Spooky frolicks about with our tree ornaments and loves to play 
with string. If we happen to have a ball of yarn lying around, before you know it, it will be 
all over the room with Spooky in the middle, thrashing about with her claws in the air. 

Cat-nip makes her act like an old drunk. Sometimes she'll dump her milk bowl over, 
then become little Miss Innocent and ask for more. All in all, Spooky is a pretty interesting 
cat, the best we've ever had. 

Ellen Eichorn '76 



Crystal Nights 

pointless destruction 
Forgive people for what 
they can't help 


Today's dream of tomorrow 
Wide open space of nothing 


Crystal nights 

with snowballs of love 
Glazed trees 
with hazy eyes 

White topped mountains 
with laughter and fun 
Snow-melted days 
with memories of you 

Honey Hirsch ' 74 

Joanne Dawson '75 

The Search 

Advice From A Dreamer 


hold tight to them 
for if dreams die 
life is a bird 
that cannot fly 

Dede O'Leary '73 

Those born with a strong will to survive, 
A deep respect for all living things, 
And a great need and love of the land 
Are born to seek freedom, 
To live their own way of life, 
And someday they shall find it. 
1 hope I am one. 

Martha Bills '73 



On Getting an M.A. 

You sigh, yes, you have passed the test 
And though you're suffering drain, 
They say you've done your very best 
But it seems to have been in vain. 
No one wants to employ you 
In fact, you're fired now. 
Woolworth's has rejected you 
With a Masters, you wonder how? 
With half-closed eyes you moan and rave 
Of how it was a nightmare 
But when they lay you in your grave 
That credit will look good there! 

Julie Coughlin '75 


The Return 

When I first saw the sign, it appeared to be worn and barely readable. I figured the weath- 
er and years had dulled the bright red letters that had been so clear when I last left Lochearn. 
Memories began to come clearer and clearer with each step I took down the shadowed road. I 
remembered all the team meets, and how rewarding it had been to win and how depressing 
to lose. I remembered the Sunday camp fire hills so pretty and inviting. And I'll never forget 
how much trouble we used to give the counselors when they made us put on our hats with the 
little red feather. The people I met at Lochearn were the most unforgettable part of camp. 
Each was unique, and they all cared about camp life. I had grown up with these people, but 
soon after we left camp eight years ago, our correspondence ended. I never was much of a 
letter writer, and it was years since I had heard from those old summer friends. This was my 
first return visit to Lochearn and I could hardly contain my excitement. 

As 1 walked farther down the familiar road, I noticed several changes. Trees had been cut 
down, almost making the area look bare, and the stable was gone. It probably had fallen under 
the pressure of those rough Vermont winters. I was nearing the end of the road now, and the 
closer 1 got, the faster I walked, until I was running. The sub-senior lodge was the first building 
I saw. I expected to see "Lochearn Lassies" (small campers) hurrying to their activities and 
obviously having a good time. Instead I was met with emptiness. All the cabins, the dining 
hall and office had disappeared. The lodge was the only survivor, and on its door a sign read 
"For Sale." I was shocked. What had happened to Lochearn? Where had it gone? 

I went around frantically looking for some familiar face or place but there was nothing 
except the lodge, the lake, and a few ducks by the shore. The grass had not been cared for in a 
long time. In some places it reached my hips! Camp Lochearn had died and so had a little part 
of me. The memories were all I had left because I could never visit Lochearn again. It didn't 
exist any more. I should have returned sooner. 

Joanne Dawson '75 


Life As A Hickory Tree 

Life was new and exciting when I was young. Once I got out 
of the ground and into the air, life was a whole new experience 
with the nippy winds of fall, the fluffy snow flakes of winter, the 
gentle, cool breezes of spring, and the hot burning rays of summer. 
In the spring, squirrels and raccoons crawled in and out 
of the hole in my side. In the summer, the birds perched themselves 
on my branches and sang their cheerful songs. It was fun to grow taller 
and taller. When I had gained several inches, I saw more than I had 
ever seen before. I grew more and saw more with every year. But, 
all too soon, I had reached a certain age when I started to lose 
interest in the world. I mean, I was old, and I didn't even grow 
or have as many leaves or nuts any more. Seasons just seemed to roll 
in and roll out, and all that happened to me was that my branches fell 
off one by one. All I have left is to wait until I slowly and completely 
fall apart. 

Ellen Eichom '76 


Slope Saga 

Everyone at the lodge was cheered by the prospect of good skiing conditions. The two 
couples, Fred and Caroline Johnson and Harry and Linda McGlennon, had planned this trip 
for weeks, but each time had had to cancel due to lack of snow. Now, after two days of waiting 
at the lodge for the forecast to be fulfilled, they saw the first flakes begin to fall. 

As the snow accumulated, Harry and Linda decided they could wait no longer. They 
urged their friends to get their equipment and go out to the slopes with them. However, Caro- 
line wanted to wait until the snow subsided. They were a great pair — Caroline and Freder- 
ick — but appeared to be too concerned with their health. 

"I'm really not feeling too well, Freddy. I might catch cold in the wet snow. Maybe I 
should stay behind today." 

Fred agreed with her, saying, "I'll stay with you, since the snow looks as if it will fall for- 

"Oh no, Freddy. I won't have you sitting around all day being bored. I won't be much 
company at all because I'll probably spend the day in bed resting. So, why don't you go on out 
for a few runs?" 

"Well, I'll see. I might end up in a quiet spot in the lounge doing some reading. O.K., 

"O.K., Darling." 

Meanwhile, on the slopes, Harry and Linda had quarreled. They quarreled often. Harry 
was a strong-willed young man, and Linda had been used to getting her own way since her 
spoiled childhood. She was the only child of a wealthy businessman and Harry had married 
the boss's daughter. Linda's father had died the year before and now Harry handled Linda's 
estate. The quarrel began when Harry said, "Hurry up, Linda. I want to get more than one 
run down Skull Bone Trail." 

"You've got to be insane, Harry, if you think either of us is going down that trail. It's a 
good trail only if you want to kill yourself." 

"Oh, come on. What are you — chicken? Just my luck to end up with a wife who's a spoil- 
sport and yellow to boot." 

"That's right, and there's nothing you can do about it. I'm going down La Petite Chemin. 
Are you coming?" 


They parted and went their separate ways. A little while later though, Harry started, via 
the path by La Petite Chemin, to go back to the lodge. The falling snow had been too much for 
him at Skull Bone Trail. Ahead of him, Harry was surprised to catch sight of Fred. Just as he 
was about to shout, he froze in his tracks, for Fred had taken out a gun. A shot rang out, as 
Fred sped away down the mountain. Terrifying rumbling and quaking sounds filled the air. 
Harry took only a minute to realize what was happening and he too raced away to safety. The 
shot had started an avalanche. 

At the lodge, reports filtered in from the ski patrols. An unknown number of people had 
been buried alive. Anxious relatives waited in an agony of suspense. One of the first bodies 
to be brought in was Linda's. 

Harry was stunned. He couldn't get it out of his head that they had quarreled in their last 
hour together. His remorse and grief seemed real. But as the commotion at the lodge increased, 
he became panicky. Suppose there was an investigation. Would anyone believe that he was 
not somehow implicated in Frederick's crime? He, after all, had a motive — he was not getting 
along with his rich wife. And what was Fred's game? They hadn't had a chance to talk. The 
continuing snow made him even more nervous. If it didn't stop soon, they would be stuck here 
for days. Caroline too was very upset. Linda had been a close friend. She had retreated to the 
bedroom of their suite. The only one who seemed to be keeping his head was Frederick. 

"How can you keep so calm, Fred?" asked Harry. "I'm all nerves. I feel as if I'm buried 
alive. I want to get out of here." 


"Take it easy, Harry. You have nothing to worry about. They're used to these road condi- 
tions around these parts. The plows will get us out of here in no time. Everything will work 
out. No questions asked. O.K.?" 

"Listen, Fred, I happened to witness what you did up on that mountain. I'm afraid they'll 
think I'm part of whatever you're up to, so I'm not saying a word. But what about Caroline?" 

"What about her?" 

"Well, what if she finds out how it really happened? Then what?" 

"I'll take care of her. She's the least of our worries." 

"What do you mean 'our worries'? This mess is your doing. I'm not having any part of it." 

"It's too late now, Harry. You're involved. I've made you part of it. Everyone knows that 
you and Linda weren't hitting it off. If you keep quiet, no one will suspect you in an "Accident" 
like this, and then we collect. My cut is 75% of the insurance. You get the business." 

My God!" exclaimed Harry. "You're incredible! When did you dream up this nightmare?" 

"Relax and pretend nothing has happened. I'll go down to the lobby to check what's hap- 
pening." Fred turned to leave the room... 

"I know what you're up to. Don't try to deny that you know what happened up there. And 
now, I know." 

It was Caroline. She had been standing at the bedroom door long enough to hear every- 
thing. Harry was frightened. He was certain she would call in the police. Frederick approached 

"Don't come near me. I'll call the police." 

"Be sensible, Caroline," said Fred soothingly. "Even if what you think you heard were 
true, you can't prove it. The police would learn about your frequent illnesses and think you 
were just upset over the death of your friend. Why don't you go back into the bedroom and get 
some rest? The snow will prevent anyone from coming or going for some time." 

"You just wait. I'll tell them. You can be sure of that." 

Caroline locked herself in the bedroom and did not reappear for the rest of the day. Harry 
spent most of the time pacing like a madman. Frederick gave up trying to calm him down and 
went down to the lobby to keep in touch with the latest developments. By midnight, an inspec- 
tor from the nearby police department got through to the lodge. He gathered everyone in the 
lobby for questioning about the tragedy — everyone except Caroline. After calling the roll from 
the hotel register he asked, "Does anyone know where Caroline Johnson is?" 

"I think she's in her room. I left her there earlier today. She was very upset and I told her 
to lie down," answered Fred. 

"Everyone stay here. I'll go get her." 

There was no answer when the inspector knocked on Caroline's door. Throwing his weight 
against the door, he burst into the room. Caroline looked as if she were asleep on the bed. The 
inspector tried to wake her. She did not respond. Caroline was dead. 

When the news reached the lobby, Harry went wild. 

"You did it, Fred. You and your mad idea. Why did I have to get involved? Why couldn't 
I have gone with Linda and been killed?" He tried to get hold of himself, but to no avail. 
"Now, you're going to get what's coming to you before you get me." The gun in his hand 
waved threateningly. "You thought I was just someone you could use. Well, I'll show you." 
And he pulled the trigger again and again. The gun fell from his hand as he dropped to his 
knees sobbing. The inspector went to him and led him away. 

Anna Reppucci '73 




I was a black man. 
I walked and I walked 
and I walked some more. 


1 am a black man. 
I walk and 1 walk, 
and 1 walk some more. 


I will still be a black man. 
I will walk and 1 will walk 
and 1 will walk some more. 

Maybe, I will find something. 

Anna Reppucci 73 

Sonnet: On Psychological Adjustment 

Neurotic child, recall your wicked id. 

Your superego's working on part-time. 

You must remember Hedonism's bid 

Cannot be carried far into your prime. 

A man named Sigmund Freud one summer's day 

Unlatched Pandora's psychiatric box 

And let more ids than egos out to play 

Before he once again secured the locks. 

Now everyone's concerned about his drives, 

The couch, the analyst, libido-land, 

And each new trauma brings a case of hives, 

Since now the whole thing's gotten out of hand. 

With all your instincts, symbols, drives, and guile- 
Be glad that you're neurotic and just smile. 

Julie Coughlin '75 


Christmas with Charlie 

They were to see Santa Clause, as planned, after her mother came out of the store. Now 
she sat in the big back seat of the black car waiting and thinking of Christmas morning, and 
presents, old toys never quite old enough to throw away, and new dolls which, if they were 
lucky, might one day join those celebrated ranks. Robert was standing, boots polished to 
match the shine of the car, stark still before the fender on the sidewalk side, ready to open the 
door for Madame. Nancy never understood about that word "Madame," because she always 
called the pretty lady "Mummy," and everyone else called her Doris. There was a man long 
ago who lived in their house, and he had called her "Darling," but that was almost too long to 
remember now, and it made Nancy sad somehow to think of it. 

Nancy sat on the edge of the seat and stared, a little impatiently, through the car window 
and the glass door of the store, wondering just how long Santa Claus would wait for the pret- 
ty lady to finish buying. If she didn't hurry he might leave without knowing what to bring 
tonight, on Christmas Eve. There were so many, many wonderful things Mummy had told her 
she would find under the tree after the reindeer had made their brief stop. New toys and a 
bride doll. A party dress just like the one — better than the one — Mary Ann had worn to her 
birthday party last month. A new coat to match Mummy's, with her name in the lining too, and 
like Mummy's, a fur hat to match. She knew Santa would drop something off for everyone 
else too, which was nice. Something expensive for Mummy, a gift for Robert the chauffeur, 
and one for Marie, Mummy's maid. Maybe perfume. Marie loved perfume. Nancy didn't ever 
want to wear perfume, because sometimes she thought the liquid from the bottles on Marie's 
table caused the maid to smell a trifle strong. But whenever Nancy noticed, Mummy always 
said, "Well, Marie's a maid." Then Nancy guessed her mother must have told Marie to stop 
using so much perfume, because she always noticed Marie never smelled that way again for 
a while. She didn't talk much either. 

With a sigh, Nancy put her hands on top of the front seat and lifted herself to peek at the 
clock. It was going to be too late for Santa Claus if Mummy didn't hurry, because he stopped 
seeing people when the store closed at five o'clock, and went back to his workshop. Today was 
her last chance, and if she missed him it would be a terrible, terrible Christmas. (At seven 
years old, there are just a few things that can make a young lady become impatient, but an 
appointment with Santa Claus is most definitely one of them.) 

Nancy opened the car door, stepped onto the sidewalk and started for the store. "No, no, 
Miss Nancy," Robert cautioned. "Your mother said you should wait in the car while she 
tries on her dresses, and she'll be right out. Now she's been gone but half an hour, and any 
minute now she'll come along. Then you'll see Santa Claus. Now you get back inside where 
it's warm." 

"Oh, please Robert, it's so late, and he'll leave and I'll never get to see him. And you won't 
get anything either. Please go get Mummy, tell her to hurry." 

"No, Miss Nancy, 1 can't go inside there. They put this sidewalk out here for me to wait 
on, and here 1 wait. You too. Now, come on." 

"I want an apple. That man has jillions of apples over there, and I've got a nickel. I'll 
buy one." 

"You come right back now, when you get that apple!" 

By that time, Nancy was in front of the man with the jillions of apples, nickel in hand, 
palm upright, ready to buy. "I want an apple please." 

He was very old, expecially for a young man, and his face was covered with the biggest 
moustache she had ever seen on anybody. His eyes were red, sort of, and he wore a funny 
hat. His coat must have been very old, for it was ripped in lots of places and kind of stringy 
at the ends of the sleeves. Like the one the man wore who had called her Mummy "Darling," 
and she always used to scold him for wearing it. 

"Take your pick, my child. You are a very pretty little girl, and you may choose any apple 
on the stand." 

"My Mummy is late, and we're supposed to see Santa Claus today, to tell him what to bring 
to our house for Christmas. And if she doesn't come soon, we'll miss him. I wish she'd hurry up." 

"If you've been a very good girl," said the man with the stringy sleeves, "you may get your 


first Christmas present now. You may have one of my apples for a gift. But don't be impa- 
tient and want your mother to hurry, because if you've been really good you'll surely get lovely 
things for Christmas." 

"1 will? Without telling Santa Claus what I want?" 

"Without telling Santa Claus what you want." 

"Then how will he know?" 

"You'll get the things that mean the most, if you deserve them." 

"1 don't understand you," said Nancy. 

"You will someday, I hope. Take an apple. That one? I'll slice it down the middle for you. 

"Thank you. Oh, look! It isn't any good. It has a big brown spot, and a hole that goes way 
down inside," sorrowed the little girl. 

"Not any good? Here, put it down," said the stringy strange man. "Now watch. You may 
be surprised." 

They watched. And while they were looking, two feelers poked out from the cavernous 
tunnel. They were attached to a kind of brown knob-head, which followed the feelers, and then 
two legs took a strong grip on the edge of the cavity and hoisted some of the rest of whatever 
it was out onto the apple where it stopped for a moment, as if to look around. The creature 
paused only a fraction of a second, and then continued down the side of the apple to wherever 
it was going. Once it changed its mind, turned around and started back into the tunnel, perhaps 
a little cold from the chilly Christmas wind. Then another unexpected about-face and it stop- 
ped flat — looking directly up at the four intent eyes watching. 

The girl had never seen anything like it -- a whole big thing made out of a brown color, a 
knob-head, and a great many legs. It was very active, too, feelers vibrating and legs moving 
incessantly. Almost business-like. The creature moved again, this time down the side of the 
apple and onto the clean white paper plate where the man had put the apple. There it came to 
a thoughtful stop. 

"What is it?" the girl asked. 

"You mean WHO is it," corrected the man. 

"Who is it?" 


"Do you know him?" 

"I just met him," said the man, "but I know him now." 
"Does he LIVE in there?" 

"Well, he used to, but now that the apple's picked and sold and sliced and turning brown, it 
looks like he'll have to find a new home." 

"Aren't you going to squash him?" the little girl queried 
"No, why should I?" 

"He's a WORM! He's awful!" answered the well-brought-up child. 

"Not at all. And don't say things like that, you'll hurt his feelings. He's Charlie, the Friend- 
ly Worm." 

"How can a worm be friendly? They ruin things and they're awful." 
"Look close, my girl. He's smiling at us." 
"Worms don't smile. He is NOT smiling at us." 
"You aren't looking hard enough." 
"I am so. He. ..he IS smiling!" 

"Most certainly he is smiling," declared the man. "It's Christmas and we're his- friends, 
even if he is out of house and home. Christmas is only good and real and happy when you have 
friends to share it with, and love and smiles. Charlie knows that." 

"Well, where will he go?" worried the girl. "What is he going to do?" 

"What are WE going to do," said the man. 

"Well, we aren't going to squash him, that's one thing we're NOT going to do," ordered 

"What will we do then'?" 

"Put him back," said the girl. 

"Oh, that house if finished." 

Well, I wish he could live in our house. But he can't. Mummy wouldn't let him." 

"I know what we'll do," said the stringy strange man. "We'll find him a new house. We'll 


celebrate Christmas right now, you and me and Charlie, and we'll give him his new house 
for a present. Don't you want an apple?" 

"Only of it's an apple with somebody in it," Nancy replied. 

"Well, look very hard and try to find one with a brown spot and a tunnel, and if you can, 
that'll be an apple in which you're most likely to find somebody." 

The girl looked at all the apples on the stand. "They're all shut," she said. 

"Well, eat one then," said the man. 

"I want one like Charlie's, and I want to see if there's somebody in it. Then we can put 
Charlie in there too, and he'll have another friend. A worm-friend." 

"Well, there aren't any other apples here with anybody in them. So I think we should 
build Charlie a new house all of his own," said the man. "Here's a big shiny apple. We'll 
make a new house out of that." 

The man took a stub of pencil from his coat pocket and bored a hole right down to the 
middle of the big perfectly good red apple. "There!" he said with pride, and placed the new 
house right next to Charlie on the stand. 

And they both bent to look at Charlie. 

"He's not moving," said the little girl. 

"Still a little confused, I guess," decided the man. "He's used to being inside a warm, 
homey apple and this is very probably his first time out. It's kind of simple, living inside an 
apple, and I don't suppose he really knows what to do out here." 

"Show him," Nancy requested. 

The man found a solution. "We'll pick him up and put him on top of his new house. Then if 
we both whisper 'Merry Christmas, Charlie!' he'll know we're giving it to him, and he'll go in." 

When the man put Charlie down on top of his new house, there was no time to say a single 
word. Charlie made a beeline for the tunnel and scurried inside. The little girl and the man 
looked at each other, then back at the doorway of Charlie's new house. It was a long time, 
almost a second, before anything happened. Then the feelers appeared again, as before, and 
the brown knob-head. But Charlie didn't come out. He just stayed in the doorway a second, 
looked at the little girl and the stringy man, then disappeared. 

"I think he said 'Thank You,' " considered the man. 

"I didn't hear anything," said Nancy, "but I saw him smile." 

She noticed something very funny. There was water in the man's eyes. 

"Are you crying? Why are you crying?" 

"Because it's Christmas, and Charlie likes his new house," the man replied. 

"People don't cry at Christmas," objected the little girl. "And they don't cry when they're 
happy, either." 

"Yes they do, my dear, sometimes when they are very, very happy." 

Nancy bent over the apple, close to the hole, and whispered. .."Merry Christmas, Charlie!" 
and a tear from her eye splashed onto Charlie's front porch. 

She was about to add that she hoped he liked his new home, when her mother came up, 

"Come on, Darling. Get away from those dirty apples, you'll get germs. We have to hurry 
if we're going to see Santa Claus and tell him everything we want. We'll get you a good apple 
to eat later." 

"These are good apples," said Nancy. "And I don't think I want to eat one." 

"Well, hurry anyway." 

"We don't have to go, Mummy. Santa Claus will know what to bring. We need a front door 
for the new house." 

"What? What new house? Oh, stop being silly, and come on." 

The pretty lady took Nancy's hand and scurried her away to the black car, never noticing 
the stringy strange man or the new house in plain view. 

The man felt a little, he thought, like Charlie felt outside his apple.. .until he heard Nancv 
say as the car door closed, "There's no hurry, really Mummy. We don't have to see Santa 
Claus at all. He WILL know what to bring, a door for the new house. Anyway, I already had 
Christmas, with Charlie and the man, and we gave Charlie a brand new house. We cried, and 
had Christmas, and we had a wonderful time." 

Julie Coughlin '75 


Incident At Saginaw 

N6721Y is a six-seater Aztec. Last summer, the four of us piled all our luggage into the 
plane and headed for a resort area in the northern part of Michigan. We were to attend a 
meeting for pilots. People were expected from all over the country. We were travelling from 
New York. Our course was north, over Buffalo, then on to Ontario, Canada, and then to 
Saginaw, Michigan, where we landed to refuel and get a light lunch. This break took about 
three-quarters of an hour. Then, we piled into the plane again, taxied into position, and took 
off. The speedometer reached 90 mph and we began to gain altitude. But suddenly... 

As my father checked the little mirror on the lower left engine, the tower radioed to us, 
"21 Y, your nose gear has not gone up completely." It was a coincidence that both the tower 
and my father noticed the gear at the same time. . What this malfunction meant was that we 
could not gain any more altitude. The rooftops looked very close. 

"What will we do," wailed my younger sister. 

My father seemed to be trying to keep his voice controlled, when he said, "I'm going to try 
to jerk the plane up and down, so be prepared." But, his efforts didn't work. The gear was still 

Again the tower radioed. "21Y, if you attempt a landing, there is a fifty-fifty chance that 
the gear could either snap down and you will be able to land safely, or, it could very easily go 
back up into the nose causing the plane to go head over heels." The latter was more probable, 
for the gear was on its way up to begin with. 

"We're at 1000 feet," my father radioed in. 

"21 Y, fly over as low as possible for us to get a good look." 

We did. Luckily we had enough fuel. Meanwhile, my stomach felt full of butterflies. 
Time had never slipped by so fast. 

I heard my mother say, "Girls, tighten your seatbelts as much as possible, and if we have 
to attempt a landing, put your heads down in your laps in those pillows. 

We then made another pass over the tower, but the gear remained stuck. Again and again, 
as time and the fuel ran out, my father jerked the plane, trying to release the gear. No hope. 
Finally, a mechanic got on the radio to give my father instructions on how to land as a last 
resort. On our final approach, we had our heads in our laps and our bodies were tensed in a 
crouching position. 

"Here goes," I heard my father say quietly. 

Suddenly, as our back wheels hit the runway, we felt the gear snap into place. We had 
landed safely! Slowly our heads rose from our laps. We exhaled almost in unison. Relief 
spread like sunshine through the cabin. 

Deborah Thiele '74 


Why are there wars? 
Why is there poverty? 
Why is there prejudice? 
Why is there hate? 

Everyone seems to ask why, but no one seems to have an an- 
swer. Maybe people ask why because they are interested. Still, 
they never seem to do much about it because they are lazy and 
want a perfect world only if someone else does the work. Ev- 
eryone is involved with himself and his own problems and too 
busy to solve the world's problems. So these problems will be 
around a long time until people realize that if they want peace, 
equality, and brotherly love in this world, everyone has to 
work at it not just a few people. 

Eugenia Balkas '74 

Disturbance Of 

Awakening me 
From my sleep 
Of thoughts - 
Flashing way 
Through the darkness 
Of my mind — 
Catching me 
In the faraway 
Essence of my dreams • 
That had never moved 
Beyond my mind 

'Til light came to pry... 

The Garden 

Sitting green in darkness 
Your petals are my love 

A Love Poem 

I thought of you as I would of a friend. 

1 spoke to you as I would to a friend. 

I laughed with you as I would with a friend. 

I felt for you as I have never felt for a friend. 

You could not. 

Limited Kindness 

My friend was a heaven once 
But now I see her as another Judas 
Afraid to walk naked before me 
Yet always demanding that I unveil. 

Eileen Healey '74 



Let not the darkness of the night bear heavily upon you. 
Neither let the emptiness which is in your heart oppress you. 
But rather rejoice at the dawning of each new day. 
Marvel at the beauty of an orange revolution 
Slowly setting before your eyes at dusk. 
And await, in joyful anticipation, the day 
When we will, once more, be together. 

Marion Mc Williams '74 

As I Stare Out My Window 

As I stare out my window watching the rain 

Many thoughts come to mind, 

Awakening from their long sleep 

In the folds of my memory. 

Thoughts which lean toward the negative 

And those which lean toward the positive. 

It's strange how thoughts such as these 

Emerge from the mind 

And lay themselves out on paper. 

Michele Owens '74 




In the petal of the rose 

And in the stir of evening breeze, 

In the mist of early morn 

And in the grandeur of the trees, 

In the twitter of the birds 

And in the thicket dense with bloom, 

In the quiet of the night 

And in the crescent of the moon — 

You are there. 

Julie Coughlin '75 


in the grey dusk the songs 
i hear come to me 

from a hole in the past, from the 
depths of the sea, where i could be. 

shrouded in bitterness, i sweep away the dust 
of wilderness in wilderness 

i lay 

in the growing morning light and perceive 
the sober scape of malice, 
whining away, 

a lunatic to a liar, 

it cries responses deeper 
than we know, or have any right to know 
in its laboring flight. 

Julie Coughlin '75 


Sounds of the Sea 

My favorite sounds are of the sea at night. By the sea, at 
night, you can hear the salty, dark blue-green ocean roar- 
ing. You can hear the waves pounding against the shore, 
smashing the sand castles, and bearing small jewels like 
coral, seaweed, and delicate shells from the depths of the 
sea. In the night, you must imagine the white caps, but you 
can hear the huge waves rolling in from a great distance. 
This is what I call blind beauty. 

Diane Robinson '76 


From seed to flesh to dust, a 
wrangling, tumultuous labyrinth 
As light will come with life, 

so love will come with light. 
Hallway of stone 
Wall of ice 

From whence we came, so shall we 


Julie Coughlin '75 



. . .beautiful music 

A symphony in which all the notes 

are in perfect harmony 

A song of truth and sincerity 

and peace 

The youthful flings of the flute 

and the passionate beat of the tympani 


followed by sweet tunes once again 


We are... 

Judy Emerson '73 



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