Life At Belmont High School 1957-1960: Navigating the Journey of Learning and Growing

By David H Mac Donnell

The book covers the high school years of the author 1957-1960 at Belmont School and chronicles his struggles to fit into a new school and new town. Read along as he grows from a gangly unsure 14 year old to a more mature and more self confident 17 year old going off to college. He transitions from an outsider to one of the insiders by his senior

• Language: English
• Publisher: Self Publishers
• Release date: Dec 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798869032751

Book preview

Life At Belmont High School

1957-1960

(Navigating the Journey of

Learning and Growing)

David H. Mac Donnell

Copyright © 2023 David H. Mac Donnell

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

Other Books By David H. Mac Donnell:

1) Boston Rascals, 2021

2) Oyster Harbors Caddy Camp, 2022

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my close friends from high school who supported me with their unstinting friendship through my three years at Belmont High School (BHS) from 1957-1960. Dozens of other friends were a part of my life in class, sports, and social activities that I cherish to this day. They are so numerous and represent so many memorable positive experiences that I would need to write a book twice the length of this modest effort to include all of them. My apologies for not including more stories and good experiences with those whom I have passed over.

Student life at BHS in the late 1950s was near the end of an era of a very stable civil society. Although we considered ourselves the cutting edge of society, we were very modest in our dress, culture, language, and actions. We respected authority and behaved well at school. Some students pushed the boundaries of acceptable behavior, but in retrospect, even these actions pale compared to the later generations. We lived in simpler times, which molded our character.

Our teachers were instrumental in guiding us through our mid to late teen years, and they were, almost without exception, dedicated professionals. All have probably passed away by now, but this book is indeed dedicated to them. We owe them a great deal, and one of my deepest regrets is that I never returned to BHS during my professional career to thank them for their unswerving guidance and support.

Special thanks to my lifelong friend Alan (Harvey) Hamilt, who has assisted me in remembering many events at BHS in which we both participated. He also helped me prepare an earlier book, Oyster Harbors Caddy Camp 2022, in which his memory was also invaluable.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Introduction

Chapter 1 Moving to Belmont

SOPHOMORE YEAR

Chapter 2 First Day at BHS

Chapter 3 Life in Belmont

Chapter 4 Local Government

Chapter 5 Dentists and Doctors

Chapter 6 My Parents

Chapter 7 Philip and Baseball

Chapter 8 The Aunts

Chapter 9 Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI)

Chapter 10 SETI

Chapter 11 Athletics

Chapter 12 Ice Fishing

Chapter 13 Track Team and Caddy Camp

Chapter 14 Social Life

Chapter 15 Biology Class

Chapter 16 BHS Teams

JUNIOR YEAR

Chapter 17 Cross Country and Winter Track

Chapter 18 National Scene

Chapter 19 Dawes and Baseball

Chapter 20 Spring Track

Chapter 21 Lee Pollock

Chapter 22 Personal Grooming

Chapter 23 Dating

Chapter 24 Academics

PICTURES FROM DAVID’S HIGHSCHOOL YEARS

Chapter 25 Accident

Chapter 26 Drive-In/Junior Prom

SENIOR YEAR

Chapter 27 Daily Life and Academics

Chapter 28 The Totem Pole

Chapter 29 Cross Country

Chapter 30 College Prepping

Chapter 31 Safety Issues

Chapter 32 Bob Stella

Chapter 33 Joan Baez

Chapter 34 Dirty Trick

Chapter 35 The Twist

Chapter 36 Rubber Tree Plant

Chapter 37 Vespa

Chapter 38 Harvey Hamilt

Chapter 39 Auto Madness

Chapter 40 Janet Waterhouse

Chapter 41 Valle’s Steak House

Chapter 42 Belmont Relays

Chapter 43 The Old Howard and the Combat Zone

Chapter 44 Harmless Pranks

Chapter 45 Belmont Police

Chapter 46 Senior Prom

Chapter 47 Graduation & Senior Banquet

Chapter 48 Beach Outings

Chapter 49 Memorable Teachers

Chapter 50 Summer Before College

POSTLUDE

Sibling’s Bio: (Youngest to Oldest)

Philip J. Mac Donnell

Paul C. Mac Donnell

David H. Mac Donnell

Arthur J. Mac Donnell

Rosemary Mac Donnell (Greeley) Sullivan Brown

Elizabeth (Betty) B. Mac Donnell

Patricia Mac Donnell (Scott) Garber

Philip J. Mac Donnell

Introduction

Each student attending BHS 1957-1960 received a top-notch education if they studied and were attentive in class. In any endeavor, if you have a genuine interest and work hard, you will succeed most of the time. In high school, the same rules apply. You get out of high school what you put into it. Some students excelled from day one, but it took a bit longer for others. Having a balance among academics, athletics, and other after-school activities (Star, drama, band, other clubs, etc.) probably makes the best-rounded student. At least the students avoided trouble because they were so busy.

Almost all students attended a church or synagogue or received religious instruction, reinforcing the day’s social and cultural norms. Students at BHS were, for the most part, polite and well-behaved. Only on infrequent occasions was a student expelled. The environment at BHS was conducive for teachers to mentor their students to become productive members of society.

Everyone makes mistakes, but we learn from them, and the key is not to repeat them. We attended a dynamic high school, bringing out the best in those who enthusiastically participated. Our Vocational School was excellent in training students who entered the trades. Many of these students became business owners and leaders in the community.

This book details the highlights of my three years at BHS, including my social blunders, errors in judgment, journeyman athletic success, and solid academic record. It is a mixed record, but I matured greatly during those three years, as did all students. Some matured later in life and may not have had a good overall experience, but they still received a good education. While we cannot live in the past, we can surely learn from our past experiences, and I am genuinely very impressed at how successful most students eventually became during their lives. This is a tribute to their perseverance and hard work. Well Done!

Chapter 1 Moving to Belmont

My family, the Mac Donnells, was moving from the Dorchester section of Boston in October 1957 to the much more pleasant upscale suburb of Belmont, known for good schools and very low crime. Belmont was originally an agrarian community established in 1859 by several farming families who pooled their land holdings to create the new town. John Pershing Cushing donated over 200 acres of his Bellmont Farm to the town, so the town was formally named after his farm, but one el was dropped to Belmont. The founding fathers established Belmont as a dry town (no alcohol). The town has three major commercial centers: Belmont Center in the center, Cushing Square, named after the largest donor in the south, and Waverley in the west. The town is surrounded by Waltham to the west, Watertown to the south, Cambridge to the east, and Arlington to the north.

The Boston & Maine Railroad runs through Belmont to Fitchburg, Mass., with stops at Belmont Center and Waverley. A rugged stone arch bridge was built over the entrance to Belmont Center at Concord Avenue for the railroad. Many residents commuted from the station to Boston every day on the express train. The tracks paralleled Pleasant Street through Belmont but ran under Trapelo Road at Waverley. Since the 1920s, Belmont became a residential town just a few miles outside Boston, served by several bus and trolley lines connecting to the MBTA. In the 1950s, the town had approximately 26,000 residents. It was the home of the headquarters of the John Birch Society from its founding in 1958 until it relocated to Appleton, Wisconsin, in 1989.

During my parents’ final separation back in early 1956, Dad’s mother, Nanna, died and left $3,000 to each of her children. 1957, after finally agreeing to stop drinking, he began Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and rejoined the family for good. My father pooled his inheritance of $3,000 with his sister Marie Kerrigan’s $3,000. In October 1957, they purchased a large two-family home built in 1913 at 3 Chester Road in Belmont. Sadly, Marie’s husband, John, died later that year after a long struggle against cancer, heart disease, alcoholism, and other serious medical issues. We would have the upstairs apartment, the second and third floors, and Marie and her two grown children, Billy (28 years old) and Marie (22 years old), would live downstairs with their mother.

Our family consisted of our father, Arthur (Dad), mother, Elizabeth (Mama), and children Betty (20 years old), Rosemary (17 years old), Arthur (16 years old), me, David (14 years old), Paul (11 years old), Philip (9 years old) and Patricia (24 years old) who was married and living with her husband in Ohio. Betty had just entered the convent as a novice with the Sisters of St. Columban in Milton, Mass., and Rosemary was starting her nursing education at Catherine Laboure’ School of Nursing in Boston. First-year nursing students were not allowed to room in the school’s dormitories, so she lived at the Aunts’ home on 6 Mellen Street (Dorchester) from Sunday to Thursday. (More on the Aunts later.). She came home late Friday afternoon for the weekends and stayed in the sunroom that didn’t have heat. So, instead of nine people, Patricia and Betty were gone, and Rosemary was with us only on weekends; humanity’s crush was lessened.

A week before we moved, Dad and I loaded the old Buick every night with box after box the family had packed (books, kitchenware, storage items, toys, athletic gear, out-of-season clothing, etc.) to reduce the amount the movers had to move and also to reduce the cost. My first view of the house was a grey, two-family home, three stories high above a full basement, sitting on a rise about 10 feet above street level. The home was built in 1913 and had many previous owners. The railing around the second-floor porch was missing, but not having a second-floor porch made the second-floor (our first floor) nice and bright. A huge chimney was on the side of the house from the basement to the top of the roof. Both apartments had working wood fireplaces. The house was old, and it looked solid, which was from the basement to the attic.

There were six steps from the sidewalk to the front yard, another six steps from the yard up to the front porch, then another step to the enclosed entrance door to the vestibule with the right-hand door inside leading to the Kerrigans apartment and the other door to our apartment upstairs. Going upstairs, we had another six steps to a landing that turned right and another seven steps to our apartment. We had 26 steps to arrive at our apartment on the second floor (our first floor). Going to the attic required walking up another four steps to a landing that turned right and another 13 steps without a railing to the attic or a total of 43 steps from the street to the attic. No wonder I was always out of breath!

The inside was clean and was recently painted, but the kitchen needed some work. Newspapers were stacked on almost every step leading to the attic, so we had bundles to throw out. The previous owners were an elderly couple who had accumulated too much junk and had not updated their home to make it look fresh.

The second floor (our first floor) contained the kitchen, dining room, living room, two bedrooms, the sunroom, and, if you can believe it, only one bathroom. There was one toilet, sink, and a bathtub (no shower). I don’t know how we managed with one bathroom for seven people, but we did. No one could take too long in the bathroom in the morning because there was a steady stream of people moving in and out handling their ablutions. The third bedroom was on the top floor across from the unfinished attic. Paul and Philip were assigned to that room which had heat. Fortunately, there was a large unfinished upstairs attic to become a fourth bedroom for Arthur and me.

The entire home featured hot water radiator heat, which was a very clean heat in comparison to forced air heat, which always kicked up particles of dust. Our house was on a corner lot sitting about ten feet above the street level, so our side yard was flat for about 30 feet and then sloped down to the sidewalk. Mowing the lawn on the slope was going to be a challenge. I thought maybe my older brother, Arthur, would do it, but I knew I would be dragged into handling this job. Our trash and garbage were kept in trash cans in the basement, which Arthur and I lugged to the curb for the weekly pickup by the town.

Even though Rosemary slept at our home only on Friday and Saturday nights, the sunroom wasn’t heated, so the unfinished attic was a top priority before the cold winter arrived. Over the years, Dad had worked as a carpenter, steel worker, laborer mixing cement, MTA detective, electrical and plumbing helper, and just about every handyman job out there, so he had enough skills to undertake the attic renovation. Arthur and I were drafted to be his helpers on weekends. We had to haul all the building materials from the street up four flights of stairs (lumber, drywall, floor tiles, ceiling fixtures, insulation sheets, nails, tools, work benches, work horses, etc.). We helped with the framing, hammering, carrying the heavy drywall, installing the insulation sheets against the roof, and providing Dad with the essential nails, screws, and tools whenever required. Even Rosemary pitched in to help with some of the heavier work on weekends. An electrician from his work installed the electrical lines from the fuse box in the basement to the attic and wired the huge attic bedroom.

The finishing of the bedroom was a slow process because Dad insisted that he complete the job professionally. The tile floor took two long weekends, and installing the drop ceiling and the lights required three long weekends because the measurements had to be exact. The final part of the project was wallpapering, putting on the paste, carrying it to the side walls, mirroring the 45-degree angle slant of the roof, and smoothing the wrinkles out. That was the most challenging part, but Dad was thorough and methodical, and the final product was first-rate.

The fourth bedroom was finished in the middle of winter, so Arthur and I moved out of the downstairs bedroom up into the newly finished attic bedroom. The bedroom we vacated then became Rosemary’s, so she didn’t have to sleep in the sunroom anymore without heat. Dad built an alcove as a study area in the new attic bedroom, which Arthur and I used. There were two huge closets on either side of the bedroom where the entire family stored out-of-season clothes, Christmas decorations, etc. Behind the closets going to the eaves of the roof were vast areas on both sides of the room for additional storage. The new bedroom did not have any heat, so we just piled extra blankets on during the winter. We survived and never suffered from frostbite.

Since all four boys were on the top floor, there was only one way downstairs in case of a fire. Arthur and I devised an alternative emergency escape plan for all four of us. Paul and Philip (ages 11 and 8) were instructed to come to our newly finished bedroom, and then we would all go out the back windows and hang down by the ledge to drop down to the small wooden porch outside the laundry room. Arthur, being older (age 16), would go out first and then catch Philip and Paul as they let go of the ledge. Being a bit too big for Arthur to catch, I (age 14) told them to stand back, and I would drop down like a cat. We would then shimmy down the wooden supports holding the porch to the 1st-floor porch, make our way to the ground, and escape. It was a feasible plan for Arthur and me, but it would be much more difficult for Paul and Philip because of their ages. We wanted to make a dry run to show Paul and Philip the plan worked, but our parents nixed the idea. They didn’t want one of us to be injured in a practice escape. But the family had a plan; everyone understood it and knew what to do in an emergency.

The Town of Belmont did not allow street parking at night, and violators would be ticketed. Dad hired his nephew, John Cronin, a former Seabee in the Navy Construction Battalion, to build a two-vehicle carport on the side of our home. John served during the Korean War, building bridges and many fortifications for the Army and Marines. Enemy snipers killed several of his Seabee buddies, and he had a couple of close calls. Once out of the military, he started a home renovation business, buying old rundown homes and fixing them for sale. He made a good living by not getting too big and typically renovated two homes annually.

John built the carport, which included dynamiting a granite ledge to make the driveway flat. Naturally, he had to alert the local authorities, and when the blasting took place, the neighbors were warned, traffic was halted on Common Street by the police, and heavy steel blankets were placed over the blasting surfaces. The shot was well-controlled, and the neighbors’ tea cups were safe. He could then level the carport for asphalt paving, and Dad and Aunt Marie could park their cars at the house.

Our home was at 3 Chester Road, about a quarter mile from Cushing Square, which had many stores (Belmont Savings Bank, Ben Franklin, Conrad & Chandler, A&P, S.S. Pierce, Cushing Square Food Market, Janet School of the Dance, Payson Pharmacy and Palfrey Pharmacy, Winter’s Hardware Store, two real estate offices, Belmont Pet Shop, shoe repair, Town Shop For Men, Hallmark Cards, Ohlin’s Bakery, Belmont Meat Shop, Foster’s Flowers, a driving school, a gas station, several professional offices: dentist, attorneys and two insurance agencies). We did most of our daily shopping at Cushing Square, and I always rented my tuxedo at the Town Shop For Men. Cushing Square’s stores were very convenient for most of our daily needs.

Belmont was a quiet town that had three public transportation routes. A trolley from Harvard Square down Brattle Street, Belmont Street, and Trapelo Road ended at Waverly and returned to Harvard Square to connect to the MBTA (subway to Boston). There were two bus lines: 1) an occasional bus from Harvard Square down Concord Avenue to the bus area behind Belmont Center, and 2) a regular bus from Arlington down Pleasant Street to the bus area behind Belmont Center. The trolleys ran approximately every 20-30 minutes and were packed during rush hours. Children under 16 and seniors over 65 paid 10 cents, and others 25 cents. We used the trolley regularly because it was cheap and convenient. When Mama turned 65, she still paid 25 cents to fake a young age!

There were ample small parks and locations for children to play baseball and other sports. The junior high school was about a half mile from our home, where we played baseball and tossed the football. When we joined the high school track team, we all practiced at the track on Concord Avenue, where all the major athletic fields were located (track, football, baseball, soccer, and field hockey), as well as a substantial field house with lockers, showers, and bathrooms. There was a public swimming pool at Underwood Street facing Concord Avenue. After Labor Day, the pool was drained and cordoned off until the following year’s Memorial Day, when it was re-opened. The Pequossett Park’s basketball court in Waverly was flooded during the winter for children to ice skate. At the end of Chester Road was a water reservoir and a pumping station surrounded by a wrought iron fence. Payson Park was nearby, as was the small library that all of us frequented.

My friend Harvey Hamilt worked one summer for Skippy Vigarola, who was in charge of Belmont’s parks and athletic fields. Harvey’s job every day was to keep the Pequossett Park in Waverly in tip-top shape. He cut the lawn twice weekly, picked up all the trash, handled the landscaping, and called in full-time employees to repair the water fountain or the basketball hoops. It was an easy