LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT
I, Linda Alexander, leave my frustrations and “pent up” feelings of working in a bookstore to some deserving underclassmen who has no tendencies toward claustrophobia.
I, Tenya Algor, leave the track team without a cheerleader, a certain math class with only one girl, and next year’s Seminar with the suggestion that Miss Russell blushes very easily.
I, Georgena Altenbach, leave Advanced Placement English IV to any student strong enough to carry all those books.
I, Beverly Anderson, leave all of my teachers my younger sister, and all my notes to my sister.
I, Randall Armstrong, do will and bequeath my “disease” to Robert Howes, my trophy bracelet and 50,000 Tarravechia books to Don Scanlor and my knee socks to Chris Parel.
I, Christine Arthur, being of sound mind and body somehow after all these years at Wakefield, will my black fringe twist dress to the next girl to date Harry Boscoe, my worn-out pen-point to Mrs. Wentworth, my 14 broken finger nails, which I acquired from typing, to Miss Browning, to Mrs. Lyle’s next year’s students my southern accent acquired from 5th period government class.
I, Michele Aument, being of sound (?) mind, do hereby bequeath Bronsky and Pavlov to Fort Myer – it needs their wise and supreme philosophy.
I, Charles Baldwin, being a man of vast capability and half-vast intellect, leave one pair of rust stained basketball pants to some lucky junior. I also leave school at 2:00 because I have Student Assembly 6th period.
I, Renny (Peter) Barnes, will my superior coordination to the following boys: 1/2 is to be sent to Dartmouth and 1/4 given to Ralph Fletcher, while I will keep the remaining 1/4. (I figure that’s all I’ll need.) Also, I leave 3/4 of an inch to Spencer Brown.
I, Donald Beebe, leave to Mr. Rountree, a ball of string; to Mr. Johnson, 32 hours of detention; to Mr. Neal, a place in line at the employment office; to Miss Wilson, three letters of rejection from as many colleges; to Mr. Simasek, a pile of unfinished homeroom paperwork; to Mr. Dixon, a pack of 3x5 cards; and finally, to Mr. Lynn, a toy battleship and a wading pool to sail it in.
I, Mary J. Bennett, do bequeath a year’s supply of carrots and “Big Orange” to Mr. “Bugs” Gaskell so that he may further advance the field of psychology by testing the reactions of his students as he chomps and drinks. I also leave all of the ulcers, headaches, nervousness, and New Year’s resolutions of working the SIGNAL’s headline machine to any promising headline machine makers of the ’63 SIGNAL.
I, Patti Boesch, leave to Mr. Gerald Lewis, my entire band uniform, including the black oxford shoes, green tie and hat, with relief!
I, Janne Bowen, will to Mrs. Von Alven one pair of track shoes—any size and one set of 40 power field glasses to aid her in her work.
I, Pat Braafledt, will Mr. Scott the GOOD LUCK of getting another student as talkative as me.
I, Jane Braaten, will to Mr. Scott all the test tubes which were not broken by the “Three Musketeers” and to the Wakefield F.H.A. chapter, I leave my first-hand autobiography entitled “How Not to Succeed in the F.H.A.”
I, Janice Briggman, leave to all the future nurses in the I.C.T. program, the Arlington Hospital and the bedpans, thermom’s, and doctors. To my sister Susie, I leave another possible year in school.
I, Margaret Brehaut, leave everything to the students that follow after me. (I hope)
I, Frances Brown, will my younger sister to Mr. Charles Scott, so that he will never be without anyone to laugh, cry, or ask silly questions during chemistry class.
I, Steven M. Brown, do hereby leave half a bottle of midnight oil and one slightly used lamp to anyone ridiculous enough to want them.
I, Sandra Budde, hereby leave all my troubles, books, homework, and teachers to the Class of ’63.
I, Ellen Paxton Bunting, will to next year’s Senior class the pleasures of serving under some of the best teachers here at Wakefield: Mr. Reynolds, Mr. Lynn, Miss Russell, and Miss Kensek.
I, Tony Castelda, will my fifty-dollar-a-week allowance, checking account, and charge-a-plate to Mr. Diffenbaugh.
I, Donna Champ, leave my sister, Sandra, all of my old notes to be used in her 11th and 12th grade. Hope she can read them, because I can’t.
I, Sharon Clarke, leave a muscular kid to Dartmouth, a lanky blonde to U.Va. basketball team, and the sports section of the Starstone to any girls who can get into the boy’s gym easily.
I, Mike Cochran, leave to any P.S.S.C. Physics student, the chair that I slept 180 hours during 180 consecutive 4th periods.
I, Phil Cullen, bequeath to Mrs. Lyle one year’s subscription to the Daily Worker.
I, Cathie Day, will to Mr. Stevens one room full of silent submissive students.
I, Ruth Ann Dick, do hereby leave a set of earmuffs to be used in the Senior Court in times of hazardous weather.
I, Charles Dinges, do will Janne Bowen Mr. Bell’s Adam’s Apple.
I, Sid Ellis, leave Mr. Stevens to all his little junior vegetables of next year…and Miss Brown with her psychotic gang.
I, Virginia Engleman, do hereby bequeath to Wakefield High School a good will bag to put all books in, a book of matches, and one keg of TNT.
I, Sam Entriken, being of sound mind and body, will all my book covers to Sandy Stout in order that she may continue her distinguished literary career.
I, Eric Erickson, leave to Dennis Moore all of my English literature paperback books and to Carolyn Page, my useful office assistant hall pass.
I, Larry Evans, leave to Miss Richmond this report – the scouts say, “Few real men in the Junior class, rough year ahead.”
I, Tom Evans, leave Mrs. Lyle a big Texan flag to wave in government class; Mr. Wynn a 50,000 volt shock and a book of all his equations Frank proved were wrong; Miss Carol Sanders my broken heart; the hope that the inferior sophomores in my typing class will be able to manage without me. And, last but not least, I leave Wakefield with memories of the most wonderful three years of my life.
I, Carolyn Fentress, so leave and bequeath to next year’s physics students, the PSSC standardized tests and all the centrifugal force they can find.
I, Judy Ford, do hereby leave to JoAnn Damerson our lunch table, 7 cents, and a set of earplugs so she won’t have to listen to the “music” at lunch.
I, Betty Fought, will to next year’s Senior Class the privilege of using the Senior Court and the luck of keeping the underclassmen out of it.
I, Nancy Glezen, do hereby bequeath to Mrs. C. Linde one slightly used flask, marked arsenic, for her use to drink coffee from next year.
I, Cheryl Gohn, leave to the junior girls the regretful position of being senior girls, with no upper class boys to date.
I, Mike Grinder, will my red hair to Mr. Blue.
I, Bert Grisard, leave Mrs. Goertz the 6th period Spanish class.
I, Chris Hagan, bequeath to Mrs. Lyle one honorary proletariat badge.
I, Michal Hall, being of unsound mind do hereby leave my literature book, all five pieces, to anyone who finds it.
I, Mary Harrill, leave to any collector of rare items one pair of New York sneakers that have seen the Grand Ballroom of the Waldorf-Astoria, and to Miss Skorupa this question, “Is the Good Fairy a real angel?”
I, Bill Heritage, along with Paul Allen, leave Mr. Gaskell an underclassman to run all of his errands, and I sincerely hope Mr. Stevens will one year be blessed with a class of literary intellectuals so that he won’t have to teach them. To Mr. Johnson, I leave “a few words” from the many assemblies. Also I leave a Buddha so all may kiss it and be blessed.
I, Shelly Hinz, hereby leave to budding Wakefield scientists my sincerest hope that one of them discovers an inoculation to prevent “senioritis,” *before they too sadly come down with the disease--* (chief characteristic – you don’t realize you have it until it’s too late.)
I, Susan Hooper, will to Mr. Stevens, everybody’s favorite teacher, the one thing we have learned, “The ability to keep ‘it’ to ourselves.”
I, Shirley Hostetler, leave to some future senior the culpability of the Starstone under the leadership of everybody’s ideal, Mr. G.R. Groves…and for the girls who like their men cute and Southern, many long hours gaping at Blue-Eyes Benson, our darling publisher.
I, Cindy How, bequeath my “Harry Boscoe” costume to any junior girl who is hard up enough to get to a dance.
I, Missy Hubers, being of more or less sound mind and body, do hereby will and bequeath my homeroom to some lucky (?) sophomores in hopes that they will enjoy it more than I did; to Carole Spaulding I leave First Street in hopes that she can make it down to the bus all by herself in better time than I ever could at 7: 45 in the morning; and to Mr. Groves I leave another year of bewilderment and amazement in the Starstone room.
I, Barbara Hunter, leave my Senior Merit Card to Mrs. Anne Wentworth, in hopes that she can make better use of it than she let me. To the remaining students I leave my best wishes and regards for success in the future.
I, Cheryl Johnson, being of sound spirit and strong mind, do bequeath to my underclassmen my sagacious wisdom cultivated during my stay at Wakefield, soon to be published in the form of a novel, entitled How to Graduate from High School Without Really Trying. (may be seen monthly in Seventeen Magazine.) Included will be how to parry internal blows dealt by Mr. Stevens, how to be transient, pass psychology tests that were forgotten, etc., etc., etc.
I, Joy Johnson, leave to Mr. Diffenbaugh a set of earplugs, so he can’t hear the girls talking next year.
I, Mary Johnson, do will and bequeath to Mrs. Zabawa a new bottle of correction fluid.
I, Martha Johnson, somehow still being of sound mind and body do state my last will and testament: to Mr. Dixon I leave a match and a pleading note to burn his tapes and spare his next year’s government classes, to Mickey Gorman’s VW I leave all the undersized parking places in the student parking lot, to Alma Lee I bequeath my extensive knowledge of the German language which enables me to write scintillating notes in said language second period, to Tom Colwell, Bob Carpenter, and Dick Roberts I bequeath my questionable ability to harmonize in a folk-singing group, to David Zalkind, a future member of the editorial staff of the Signal, I will my chronic lack of copy, to those of the Class of ’63 who have not yet reached the hardened age of 18 I leave my heterogeneous supply of false I.D. cards.
I, Buck Jones, being of warped mind and sound body, will all my physics notes and grades to any underclassman who wants them. They can be found in the circular file in room 159.
I, Ken Jones, leave to Mrs. Goertz the title of “Honorary Senior” complete with Merit Card which entitles her to hold class every day in the Senior Court. For these outings I include a roll of mosquito netting and a can of Flit. To Mr. Crone I leave the distinction of being namesake for a new unit, the cronie, which is a vector sum of collisions between molecules of an ideal gas and two frictionless cue balls connected by a weightless string infinity centimeters long as it takes place in a perfect vacuum with negligible gravitational disturbance, assuming the string to have perfect conductivity and no resistance. To Mrs. Lyle, the Flower of the Social Studies Department, I leave one Yellow Rose of Texas.
I, Dan Kennedy, being of unsound body and only half a mind, will and bequeath to the honorable Mr. Reynolds, who with unflinching fortitude helps to misdirect the lives and fortunes of those unknowing students who place their trust in his hands, a pair of soccer socks he will find standing in the corner of that glorious locker room.
I, Bonnie Kershner, will peace of mind to the teachers, who had my two sisters and I, the last of the Kershners has graduated.
I, Gary D. Keuhner, hereby leave my natural ability to do absolutely nothing in all my classes.
I, Judy Kidwell, leave to Kay Howard all the good times I had in my senior year. Hope you get my favorite teacher for English.
I, Linda Kirchner, will my ability to get to class on time to any junior who has Mr. Lynn 1st period next year.
I, Pamela Koch, being of questionably sound mind, leave to Wakefield all my aching muscles from the G.A.A. camping trip, and the collection of fenders, tricycles, little kids, and headaches which Mr. Coursen endured while teaching me to drive.
I, A. Robert Kooney, being of questionable composition, do hereby will and bequeath to John Marshall Lee of the Class of ’63 the night of April 27,1962 and various other assorted delicacies.
I, Dan Larrick, am leaving nothing to nobody because I might be back next year.
I, John Lane, leave my cauliflower ear to Clayton Takagi.
I, David Lindeman, leave in the name of a first period government class, to Mrs. Lyle, opened windows, moans of horror, Billie Sol Estes, and the Leviathan for use again next year.
I, Penny Loving, will “Peter Gunn” and my megaphone to Terry Latsios; a do-it-yourself detective kit to Mr. Stevens.
I, Bev Luttrell, bequeath to Miss Russell one canceled round trip ticket to New York and a free pass to Bricks (if in the company of Ken and Karen). I leave Sammy ten pounds of chlorine.
I, Roberta Maag, leave my average in Tarravechia’s class to some starving junior.
I, Carol Mickelsen, will to Mrs. Mare’ some short skirts, culottes and sundresses to complete her wardrobe.
I, Deborah Miller, being of sound mind and body, do will: To Mr. Reynolds, my “just in time for cocktails” voice, so he can take over my job as a torch singer in his favorite night spot; To Jenny Zabawa, my laugh so she can graduate from a giggle; to Wakefield, I leave a tape recording of the “5 Lola’s Show” to be played during Senior Lunch.
I, Marjorie Mills, leave to Mr. Reynolds, the memory of SHIRLEY JONES! To some poor unfortunate junior girl in Mr. Diffenbaugh’s class, the experience of being teased; to Miss Heier, as to where her thyroid gland is; and to next year’s cheerleaders, the best of luck and fun cheering at the games.
I, Sandi Moore, do leave my “taxes” to Mr. Reynolds.
I, Linda Morris, do hereby bequeath to the up and coming senior class, my recently acquired paperback library including stirring stories like Animal Farm and Heart of Darkness, and short poems such as “Paradise Lost.” I also leave my polar bear jacket, especially designed for use in the Senior Court in December.
I, John Morrison, will my white bucks to any underclassman willing to clean them after every period.
I, Joan Muse, will my Texan vocabulary, acquired in government class, to any future senior fortunate enough to have the expert herself as tutor, Mrs. Lyle. Also will one million, completely filled shorthand notebooks to my patient shorthand teacher, Mrs. Wentworth; I also will six cats, six dogs, and six bottles of ”SCRAM” to the “protector” of all animals, Mr. Lynn.
I, Nikki Newkirk, being of sound mind (?) and body (?), leave Pavlov my good Senior Math grades. To Iota, I leave all of the cigarette butts in the Senior Court. To Miss Richmond, I leave my chewing gum—and to the juniors, I leave.
I, Gail Newlon, do hereby bequeath to Mr. Diffenbaugh one sick projector to go with his sick movies.
I, Susan Nicholas, leave a book of genuine southern Lylisms with thirteen unintelligible illogical fallacies.
I, Mary Noffsinger, bequeath to Chris Parel 1 needle and a spool of thread for his holey socks and to Linda Greenspan, 1 slightly used “Smile” sign.
I, Pat O’Hara, hereby will one one-way train ticket to Devon Hutchins for Greenbrier.
I, Patty O’Neal, leave, will, and bequeath to Micky Gormon (Micheloch) our cafeteria lunch table for “twisting,” and the memory of Gina Lollibrigida!
I, Andy Pandolfo, being of frustrated and wracked mind, do will and bequeath the following: my bike plus a pillow to Miss Wilson; 10 bushels of bananas to Mrs. Steffey; my vandalism to Mr. Scott; an extra loud horn to Miss Wolfe (so she can scare old ladies); a book of “little games” to Mrs. Lyle; Stephen Crane and all my notes on animal imagery to APE IV students; an infinite number of miles of piano wire made up of blue electrons to Mr. Wynn; and to my friend in 250, with the wicked transom, a stack of presigned advisory notices, a table of all possible grade scales, a million superfluous punctuation marks, and one slightly used notebook for future reference.
I, Birgida Pares, of questionable mind and body, do hereby leave to Wakefield and to the State of Virginia, my sad leave!
I, Nancy Parrott, will to the members of next year’s sixth period SCA all the ”interesting” conversations we had this year, watch out for Mr. Reynolds!
I, Jimmy Peters, leave to Mr. Broffman, Mrs. Lyle, Mrs. Herr, Miss Kennison and all the other married and unmarried women of Wakefield, young and old, fat and thin, to wander around the halls of Wakefield between classes.
I, Elaine Phillips, leave the STARSTONE staff reluctantly; to Miss Kennison, Mr. Bell; to Mr. Groves, the old notes he read to the class in the ninth grade; and to Mrs. Wentworth some warm water with which she should water her plants.
I, Frank Pulley, being regionally acceptable in circles of questionable deceit, bequeath to Voit Hurst a well-chalked cue stick; to Mr. Wynn 150,000 volts of static electricity; to Mr. Reynolds a beat 9-iron; and to Skippy Persianni a waz, a razor and blade.
I, Senior Puzak, am extremely selfish and therefore refuse to surrender a single cotton-pickin’ item to any little ol’ remaining inmate in an attempt to drag every little ol’ thing down towards the South…Y’all come!
I, Lee Richter, will to the future students of Mr. Tarravechia—courage and the will to fight back against the $14.00 worth of books.
I, Joan Rosenberger, would will Danny to Bobbi McAuley but I would rather take him with me.
I, Sheryl Sanxter, leave the Starstone clubs section to anyone with the gall of Caesar, the perseverance of Charlie Brown, and the hide of a rhinoceros.
I, Chuck Satterfield, leave my fire alarm to Eddie Harris, may he have as much fun as I did. I also leave 2 lbs. of donuts to Mrs. Trusch.
I, Bernie Schlien, leave all my love (?) to Mr. Mallia, and to Mr. Dixon 2,000 feet of my tapes, and to the junior class my sincere sympathy and the hope that the time will pass more quickly for them than it did for me.
I, Roger Schwenke, will all of the geometric shapes hanging from Mrs. Hoy’s ceiling to any unsuspecting soul who happens to sit under them.
I, Debbie Service, leave the Seminar to anyone with over $150.
I, Peggy Seyfried, do hereby bequeath all of my pep pills to next year’s English IV classes with Miss Russell.
I, Lee Shafer, hereby bequeath to any up and coming member of the Senior class of ’63, a whole year's supply of used Sheaffer’s piggyback cartridges (blue-black ink). The cartridges have been neatly stored in a Robert Burns cigar box. To pick up this great bargain, come to locker 2598. First come, first serve.
I, Karen Sharp will my seat in Mr. Lynn’s class to anyone who is lucky enough to sit that far back.
I, Robert Shewmaker, being of darkened head, do leave to Mrs. Lyle my remaining Miss Clairol. For the advancement of knowledge, I leave my fetus pig, from biology class, to the school.
I, Diane Shorter, leave to Mrs. Lyle her 13 logical fallacies, to Mr. Bell one 7-hour report on Humphrey Clinker, to Tom Barber ten lost pounds.
I, Linda Sims, do bequeath to Wallace Trowall all the times I spent skipping school.
I, Robert Smart, being of mind to do so, hereby bequeath many lengthy college application blanks to underclassmen in hopes that succeeding intelligentsia may have fun in fulfilling them.
I, Marcia Smith, do leave Laurence Olivier’s legs to Miss Richmond, hoping she’ll get a kick out of them.
I, John Solomon, leave my amazing speed and agility to Bob Goodman to go along with his superb pass catching ability.
I, Sandy Staub, leave my transcriptions to Barbara Almy and my transistor radio to Tommy Teacher. Also I leave to Danny Lattimore my Ben Casey blouse.
I, Frances Stewart, being of questionable mental health, do will my smelly, old blue bag (translation for boys: a gym suit) to any underclassmen (preferably a girl) who’s foolish enough to want to wear it.
I, Pamela Stewart, do hereby will Mrs. Lyle and all her “little games” and “pearls of wisdom” to Terry Ehrlich in hopes that he might attain better results.
I, Sandy Stout, bequeath to Betty Hill, Barrie Nichols, and Susan Fuller all the “joys” of choir, Wakefield Singers, and Miss Whittaker, and to my baby brother a couple of broken test tubes and a host of cigarette butts.
I, Louis Sussholz, hereby will and bequeath to all the destitute students who have years to go at Wakefield (the lucky things) my lost sleep in the hopes that they can find some use for it!
I, Abby Swanick, will Miss Paine’s pleasantness to all Juniors in the library and all my Senior Court passes to deserving Juniors without one.
I, Marinel Talbott, leave an apple to Miss Russell, a pearl to Tenya Algor, my quiet moments to Mike Cochran, and a Scotch plaid beret to Bob Smart.
I, Tom Tenney, hereby will all my numerous unfinished assignments to any student who may be fortunate enough to have the time next year to complete them. I also leave my calculus book to Bunny Shannon and my French book to Linda Dorner.
I, Anne Thompson, leave to next year’s SCA one multi-purpose room (117) that we used as a print shop, general catch-all, party room, and recording studio along with hopes that they will use it to capacity.
I, Gayle Thompson, will my Senior Court privileges to Shirley Stevens.
I, Nancy Tolson, leave my best wishes to Mr. George Taylor in hopes that “next year he’ll get organized,” and to his 6th period class, I leave my best regards for their future years at Wakefield.
I, Joyce Turner, being of partially sound mind, do hereby bequeath to Bronsky and Pavlov one “soggy” pack of Parliaments at Bricks and to the Juniors I leave Harry Boscoe.
I, Bob Tyler, will to Mrs. Linde my scholarly knowledge of chemistry.
I, Bill Underhill, leave Spenser Brown second base on which he tripped over more than once when trying for a double play.
I, Brenda Van Horn, will blind dates with O’Connell boys to any junior girls who think they can stand it.
I, Karl Veit, being of sound body and mind of fits would like to leave Mrs. Sufit 1 gross of No-Doz pills, Mr. Crone a blue-electron covered delineascope, Mr. Blue 20 pounds of non-excess weight, Mr. Edmondson one left-leg charlie horse, and a P.A. system for SCA meetings.
I, Kay Wallace, being of sound mind and body, do hereby will and bequeath my outstanding ability to “keep it to myself” to that outstanding liberator of English literature and Ronnie Lynch—Mr. Robert B. Stevens.
I, Frances Weaver, leave first period school store to some deserving Junior and hope they have as much fun as I did.
I, Linda Wells, will all my skills in the office to Mrs. Zabawa’s next assistant.
I, Barbara Wilner, leave to the future Starstone staff the careful and constant guidance of the polysyllabicist—Mr. Groves; Mr. Bell to Miss Kennison (and their future buzzers).
I, Mike Wines, do leave to Mr. Bell a coupon good for two free blood tests at Arlington County Court House.
I, Bill Wiseman, being of sound mind and body (?) leave to Mr. Irwin one slightly used Confederate uniform and to Mr. Dixon all my Vote for Nixon buttons.
I, Grace Woolley, being of sound mind (?) and body, do hereby will and bequeath to all my weed-fiendy friends in the Senior Court a whole carton of cigarettes, in case I might have borrowed a cigarette from them. (It’s quite possible!)
I, Rogers Young, bequeath. (Thank goodness.)
I, Jenny Zabawa, will locker #340 to Greg Smith; the sunrise service in the Senior Court to “Birdie;” and the privilege of going steady with Bob Renka fourth period everyday to some Junior girl.
I, Mary Jo Zeh, leave to some unsuspecting Junior the editorship of the class section of the Starstone and Mr. Petrucci’s well known Santa Claus joke.
We, Russell Hatchl and Tom Chandler, will our loud shirts to Dick Coe.
We, Penny Paska and Sandy Stout, leave to Mitch Daniels one used dressing screen.
We, Martha Poole and Bonnie Poucher, bequeath all our joint chemistry labs to any unassuming Junior who might be lucky enough to have Mr. Scott for chemistry.
We, Ron Skinner, Dave Allen, and Ned Garber leave one big “DORK” to next year’s Senior Class.
We, Mr. Steven’s 2nd period English class, will Mr. Stevens one salad bowl plus a year’s supply of his favorite dressing (to be used with next year’s students of course)!
We, Mr. Steven’s 3rd period English class of idiots, do will and hope that he gets as dumb a class as us next year so that he may, once again, have an extra period in the teacher’s lounge.
We, the Varsity Cheer Squad of 1961-1962, do hereby bequeath to Mr. Edward Reynolds a 6 ft. gold plated megaphone engraved with hearts and flowers, in kind remembrance of his kind loyalty and devotion and for his generous, endless compliments to our squad. May he rest in peace.
We, Mr. Wynn’s 5th period, would like to leave his 400 newtons of centrifugal force, 55 meters of piano wire to work his tricks on his future classes. We would also like to leave him a hundred surfboards and a resistance free wire and 50,000 gauges. And we hope he will benefit from Steve’s, Frank’s, Scott’s, and Tom’s scientific remarks. Good luck to a great teacher!