Class of 1961 - Brattleboro, Vermont - USA
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Yearbook Reflections - Sophomore Year History

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Shirley FullerRefreshed by our trip through the Garden of Summer, we naively threw open the door to our sophomore year. No sooner had we entered this new realm than we became aware of strange mutterings about Sputniks and the present quality of education. The nation was striving for improvement so we promptly got stuck with seven periods a day instead of six.

Suddenly apprehensive, we banded together and elected leaders to guide us through these puzzling times. Selected for this difficult task because of their outstanding bravery and forethought were Knute Westerlund, Ann Cooper, Claire Nixon and Elain Georgina.

Surrounded by the strange creatures known as teachers, we scouted carefully to find one whom we could trust to act in our behalf. Mrs. (Try concentrating) Herrick fitted the qualifications and agreed to sponsor us. To complete security measures we elected four of our classmates to represent us in the Council of Consulters. Those chosen were Ann Cooper, Karen Brown, Knute Westerlund and Charles Bristol.

As we finally settled down to work, deciding that this strange Looking-Glass Land wasn't so bad, we took notice of the things it had to offer. Our teachers conscientiously attempted to aid our adjustment, and we were grateful to Mr. (Don't scream girls, it's dead) White, Mr. (Oh, for heaven sakes, people) Witt, Madame (Grindez le pencil) Wallin, and Mrs. (Now as I have said before) Ingram, for their helpful contributions.

As our confidence grew, we even began exploring paths on our own. A few of our hardiest class members (who had joined forces with the football team) gazed into our looking glass and saw uniforms inflated with shoulder pads and heads inflated with just a little bit of ego. Cheered on with the help of our newly elected junior varsity cheerleaders, Elaine Georgina, Claire Nixon , and Ann Starkey, the Colonels went undefeated, to bring our school the honor of state champs.

To insure against things getting dull we instigated some events and occurrences of our own. As our major project, we created a romantic setting and dubbed it "Hernando's Hideaway," having made careful plans to seat the chaperones in a secluded corner and then turn the lights down to a minimum before bringing out the wine bottles. Unfortunately, however, there were not enough brave souls interested in our Looking--Glass Land to make it worthwhile (meaning we didn't make any money!)

But it took more than this to disillusion us, so we picked up the remains and tried again. this time our activity took the form of two banquets, complete with atmosphere and local color, and sponsored by the students who had the mentality to undertake a second year of Latin or a first year of Spanish. Mrs. (Plain, old, dirty "learn") Wanstall guided us, and happily, these events turned out very successfully.

One of our homerooms became very ambitious; so much so in fact that they left us all behind one day and "took off" for the (faraway, fascinating) city of Boston. Much as the rest of us would have liked a day outside, we couldn't leave with them because they had won this privilege by selling a super abundance of magazine subscriptions.

As the year drew to a close, some of the faithful magistrates of our Looking--Glass Land chose to leave for the real world and we said good-by to Miss (Gum in the basket, please) Knapp, Miss (A minute lost is a minute lost, pipple) Wellington, and Mr. (Do your own Latin today!) Bodurtha.

At this point we were startled to find that all our strivings had been in vain, for we had traveled in a complete circle and were once again approaching the Garden of Summer. We entered it joyously, but not without a twinge of curiosity about what might lie around the next corner in this unpredictable world of reflections.

Shirley Fuller

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