Last Will & Testament

We, the graduating class of 1961 of Central-Technical High School of Syracuse in the County of Onondaga and the State of New York, all being of sound mind and memory, do make, publish and declare this our last WILL AND TESTAMENT, in the manner following that is to say:

I, Margaret Abbott, do will and bequeath to anyone who wants it, my seat in Chemistry Room 300.
I, Nicholas Abdo, do will and bequeath one bottle of Aspirin to Mrs. Klett to end the many headaches I gave her.
I, Esther Adelson, do will and bequeath to any incoming student all the good times I had in the auditorium – studying.
I, David Agresti, do will and bequeath to some lucky trackman who fills my sneaks, my 130’ barrier with the discus and my seat on our great football team.
I, Marie Albreght, do will and bequeath to Mr. Guszcza a lie-detector and my gym suit to anyone who can stand to wear it.
I, Bethel Allen, do will and bequeath to Mr. Izzo a bottle of Aspirin for all the headaches I’ve given him in Driver’s Ed.
I, Roselind Allen, do will and bequeath all my appreciation to the teachers of Central-Tech for their outstanding achievements.
I, Flora Aloi, do will and bequeath to anyone whom maye want it, my powre of corect spelling on english.
I, Santa Aloi, do will and bequeath to my brother Anthony, my set of barbells in hopes that he, too, might become physically fit.
I, Sue Andrews, do will and bequeath to Jackie Dow my ability to get in trouble with Mr. Daley.
I, Leroy Armstrong, do will and bequeath to anyone who wants them, all my excuses for getting excused.
I, Virginia Atkins, do will and bequeath to Judy Mahoney all the good times at Central that I never had.
I, Rasma Avotins, do will and bequeath to my sister Val all my physics notes (for a small price).
I, Thomas Bailey, do will and bequeath all my carpentry tools to the radio class.
I, Ken Barnish, do will and bequeath all my used tubes to the Electronic Shop, in hopes that they will be put to good use.
I, Rocky Baldino, do will and bequeath to some poor kid next term my seat in you-know whose room.
I, Norma Barr, do will and bequeath a front seat in everyone’s room to my brother.
I, James Baston, do will and bequeath my ability to cut over 150 classes during the last year without getting caught to anyone with nerve enough to do the same.
I, Kathy Bausinger, do will and bequeath to any future Ketchum student, my collection of paper backs.
I, Harold Behnke, do will and bequeath all my typing abilities to Gerald Dumas.
I, Elizabeth Beiling, do will and bequeath to the school a bottle of pep pills to perk up Central’s school spirit.
I, John Bernier, do will and bequeath my sparkling sense of humor, my story-telling ability, and all my most sought-after jokes to H. S. Steinberg.
I, Judy Biggs, do will and bequeath to all the girls left in school those precious days in the Girl’s locker room.
I, Uwe Bobrow, do will and bequeath my “wet blanket” remarks to Mrs. Ketchum.
I, Pat Bombardo, do will and bequeath to my incoming brother my charm with the girls, my sparkling personality, my profound intelligence, my athletic prowess, and my conceit.
I, Robert Boyd, do will and bequeath my jinxed seat in 12th year Math class to some unsuspecting Junior.
I, Gene Brant, do will and bequeath a set of cookbooks to the cafeteria staff.
I, Patricia Brazosky, do will and bequeath to my sister Donna and her friends the right to have a blast in their senior year.
I, Susan Brewer, do will and bequeath to my cousin Jean all the fun I’ve had flirting and to Mr. Money, a medal for putting up with all my fooling around.
I, Valerie Brewer, do will and bequeath my Business math book to Michele Klisz, so she can do her homework for once.
I, Judy Brill, do will and bequeath my shorthand book to any student who’s willing to take it.
I, Roberta Brinson, do will and bequeath to Nancy Duhamel, five pairs of Keds, so she can pace the halls of Central.
I, Patricia Brown, do will and bequeath my gym number to my kid sister who will come to Central next year.
I, Richard Brown, do will and bequeath my football equipment to anyone who wants to get it dirty for the first time.
I, Dean Browner, do will and bequeath my entire collection of copious notes to my favorite English teacher, Miss Mahoney.
I, Gerald Bryerton, do will and bequeath to Miss Moran a set of ears to listen to her complaints.
I, Shan Buck, do will and bequeath to Mr. Steinberg one slightly used Nixon button, in hopes that he can use it in 1964.
I, Gayle Buckhout, do will and bequeath to anyone who wants it, 2 periods in the Tech office with all the fun I’ve had with everyone in it.
I, Vaughn Burgmeier, do will and bequeath to all the Juniors, all the dirt and grease of the Auto Shop.
I, Diane Butler, do will and bequeath to all future Lyceum girls, Dick, to use at their dances.
I, Paul Casciere, do will and bequeath all my brainology to Mr. La Fave and Mr. Tiedemann.
I, James Cassetta, do will and bequeath to Peter Ryan my interesting, if not gratifying, acquaintance with John Guszcza.
I, Maureen Chamberlin, do will and bequeath to Mr. Money another student just like me.
I, Mel Charney, do will and bequeath to Miss Moran my notes on China, in hopes that she can use them in the future.
I, Reginald Chester, do will and bequeath to any Irish junior, all my marked drafting plates in sheet metal.
I, Joyce Cohen, do will and bequeath three inches of Vocational’s tallest basketball player to King Wilborn, in order that King can have a better chance.
I, Orlando Collazee, do will and bequeath to my underclassmen all my books.
I, Craig Conley, do will and bequeath my curly eyelashes to some deserving Junior girl.
I, Pat Conway, do will and bequeath my even temper to Cindy Doolittle.
I, Mike Cook, do will and bequeath all the lollipops I didn’t receive to Bill Tower.
I, John Coughlin, do will and bequeath to some deserving Junior my tattered welding helmet.
I, Diane Cox, do will and bequeath to Gerry Moskal, a datebook to keep all her dates in.
I, Dick Cramer, do will and bequeath to the halls of Central, a little of my glowing personality and radiant charm, so that future students won’t have to walk in the dark.
I, John Crandall, do will and bequeath my school spirit to all those who need it.
I, Mary Ann Crowley, do will and bequeath all my wonderful times in Alethean to my sisters Caron and Carol.
I, Robert Cunningham, do will and bequeath my senior driver’s license to Mike Donegan, so I can ride in the back seat.
I, Dick Dali, do will and bequeath to Don Preston all the football injuries he has bestowed upon me.
I, Robert Darby, do will and bequeath my books to Mary Boragi. Good Luck.
I, Judith Dean, do will and bequeath my ability to get along with Mr. Schneid, to anyone who wants it.
I, David Deapo, do will and bequeath to Mr. Daley, a long-playing record entitled “In the Future.”
I, Phil DeFabio, do will and bequeath to Mrs. Ketchum a bottle of my wonderful wine.
I, Joseph Ficarro, do will and bequeath my knowledge of electronics to Mr. Larcher.
I, Sharon Francoeur, do will and bequeath to Jo a book entitled, “Dental Surgery self-taught.”
I, Sandy Franklin, do will and bequeath to Mrs. Overton my homeroom seat in Lincoln Auditorium.
I, Dick Gandino, do will and bequeath my sobriety at parties to anyone who has the willpower to resist the influence of alcoholic beverages.
I, Jeanne Garrison, do will and bequeath the name “Donna” to Miss Lucy.
I, Kenneth George, do will and bequeath my locker to someone who can’t use it.
I, Paula Gibson, do will and bequeath to Miss Moran, a 10 year subscription to the New York Times, so she can keep up with the news.
I, William Gonsa, do will and bequeath to Mr. Guszcza, a book entitled “How to Make and Keep Friends.”
I, William Goodwin, do will and bequeath my seat in Spanish class to any first year student who likes to take siestas during Mrs. Prudhon’s lectures.
I, Barbara Gould, do will and bequeath to Mr. Schneid a book entitled, “100 Jokes for Use in Bookkeeping Class.”
I, Rita Graham, do will and bequeath three light bulbs for the auditorium and one large candle for room 122.
I, Ruth Graniero, do will and bequeath to my sister Carmen, all my wild times in Miss Jones’ gym class.
I, Genne Gratzer, do will and bequeath my seat in English class to some unfortunate Junior who may think he want it.
I, Walter Green, do will and bequeath myself to the school: I’m not leaving.
I, Janet Greer, do will and bequeath my locker across the hall from 208 to anyone who likes crowds.
I, Jim Griffith, do will and bequeath an axe to Mr. Guszcza to use in emergencies.
I, Rick Griffith, do will and bequeath all my troubles to Mrs. Scott.
I, Chuck Gruman, do will and bequeath to Mr. Steinberg a nine page list of good fishing spots and three unsinkable boats to “the fish’s best friend,” Mr. Steinberg.
I, Douglas Guernsey, do will and bequeath my fight for Fords to Mr. Dowding.
I, Jean Marie Guinta, do will and bequeath my speed to anyone who will take it.
I, Robert Hagemann, do will and bequeath to Mr. Lukins, all my old gymsuits.
I, Robert Hall, do will and bequeath a new supply of golf balls to John Sharver so that he can play more than two balls per hole.
I, Marvin Hamlin, do will and bequeath all my used tubes to Mr. LaFave.
I, David Hannig, do will and bequeath all my American History review notes to myself to use in summer school.
I, Thomas D. Harblin, do will and bequeath my pair of sharp yellow socks to Tony Rivizzigno, but my prize possession, (the portable locker, or brown gym bag) goes with me to the end.
I, Neal Harger, do will and bequeath all my photographic ability to the next photographer of the Recorder.
I, Jerrod Harrington, do will and bequeath to Mark Geiselman a year’s supply of suckers.
I, Barbara Harris, do will and bequeath my nickname “Dusty” back to Mr. Orzel.
I, Grace Harris, do will and bequeath to Martha Rowe, all the gossip she needs to get in good with the boys.
I, Fred Hatem, do will and bequeath better luck to Mr. Tiedemann in the future with his attendance records.
I, Donna Rae Hayes, do will and bequeath a life-time supply of ducks to Mr. Hendee and all my 12th year books to Bill.
I, Patricia Hayes, do will and bequeath to Kathy Dovegan, one bottle of Peroxide, so the dark roots won’t show.
I, Lilla Head, do will and bequeath all yearbook responsibilities to the new editors with Pleasure.
I, Bob Heaphy, do will and bequeath my skill at Sheet Metal work to Carl Luke.
I, Aimee Helmer, do will and bequeath to some future Driver’s Ed. Student, a book entitled, “Happy Tales about Driving” by Mr. Hendee.
I, James Higbee, do will and bequeath in trust of Miss Lucy, my beloved French book to some unfortunate French student.
I, Casandra Hoffman, do will and bequeath the splinter on the gym floor to future students and I hope they’ll have enough needles on hand.
I, Ray Hokanson, do will and bequeath scooters for the faculty, so they can solve the parking problem.
I, Lois Hollely, do will and bequeath my unique ability to play the trombone to my brother, Bob.
I, Michael Holley, do will and bequeath to Mr. Izzo, one protractor to use to sight a 45 degree angle while he is parallel parking.
I, Joan Howard, do will and bequeath a bar of soap to Kathy Donegan to use on her gymsuit.
I, George Howell, do will and bequeath my shorthand book to Denny Snow so he can get a good mark for a change.
I, James Hunter, do will and bequeath nothing: I’m taking my bottle with me.
I, Carol Joy, do will and bequeath all my trial balances tat never balanced to Mr. Schneid.
I, Bob Jerson, do will and bequeath my 36 inch cast to next year’s football squad in wild anticipation.
I, Joanne Kennedy, do will and bequeath to any Phil girl, all the fun I’ve had holding a continuous open-house. Good Luck!
I, Sue Kenyon, do will and bequeath to Barb Plony everyone else’s business.
I, Gwen Kirby, do will and bequeath all my unpaid club dues to the many clubs I joined.
I, John Kislinger, do will and bequeath one empty locker to the school.
I, Margie Kline, do will and bequeath my quarter of a locker to who wants to take it.
I, Mary Jane Klotz, do will and bequeath my short skirts, my pixies, and my bubble hair- dos to any girl brave enough to take them.
I, Richard Kyle, do will and bequeath my Lynden Street parking place to anyone who wants it.
I, Anthony Laratta, do will and bequeath my thirteen study halls to any kid who needs the sleep.
I, Pat Leader, do will and bequeath success to my sorority.
I, Dave Leahey, do will and bequeath my beautifully designed overalls to Desideri.
I, Jan Leask, do will and bequeath to any talkative Junior my dialogue in Mrs. Ketchum’s English class.
I, Donna Lewis, do will and bequeath all my clothes to Mary Ann Kallfelz, only if she can fit into them.
I, Linda Longtin, do will and bequeath my spot in the choir to Laura Robinson, who can’t sing a note.
I, William Loucks, do will and bequeath the leadership of the Projectionist Club to Mr. LaFave and his morning class.
I, Tanya Lupinin, do will and bequeath all the old books which I won’t need any more to a friend who has to stay on.
I, Bob Lydon, do will and bequeath to Sparky a new pair of coveralls.
I, Ronald Mack, do will and bequeath my personal edition of the Nottingham directory to some deserving Senator.
I, Mike Madonna, do will and bequeath to Mr. Hendee a year’s supply of chalk.
I, Meredith McGuire, do will and bequeath an extention cord to Mr. Steinberg, so he can “plug-in” his formulas, and to the school I will a large sum of money to be used in erecting a statue of the immortal Harvey Steinberg.
I, Cheryl Mason, do will and bequeath the fun I had in my Senior year to Tommy Nolan.
I, Frances Mayer, do will and bequeath my messy locker to some Freshman.
I, James Mathews, do will and bequeath to Pete Constantino, my ripped Music Theory book to use in college.
I, Bernard Mazulewiz, do will and bequeath my old film and prints to Mr. Eaton.
I, Nancy McBride, do will and bequeath one large apple to Gerry Moskal, and to next year’s Scarlet staff, all the fun in the Scarlet room.
I, Judy McCann, do will and bequeath to Margie Wicker my novel approach to cheerleading jumps.
I, Marcia McCloy, do will and bequeath my soft sexy voice to some Junior girl who’d like to be a sensation with the men.
I, Bob Merante, do will and bequeath all my old chef hats and aprons to Tom Nolan and Nancy Stromberg.
I, Beverly Merrithew, do will and bequeath to Sharon Hennessey, Bill’s Gerosian pin for a day so she can have a thrill.
I, Judy Merrow, do will and bequeath to all future Seniors, a book entitled, “How to Live Dangerously and Graduate Anyway.”
I, Bill Mesrobian, do will and bequeath to non-partisan S. H. Steinberg an autographed picture of the Kennedys and their Prohibition still.
I, Diane Metzger, do will and bequeath the Senior boys, all my greatest respect and undying “love.”
I, Dave Middleton, do will and bequeath to the Projectionists Club all the empty Coke bottles left from the Senior Play.
I, Michele Miller, do will and bequeath my birth certificate to Mr. Finnegan.
I, Duane Money, do will and bequeath the ability to get along with Mr. Braggins, to any deserving boy.
I, Bill Montgomery, do will and bequeath my presidency of Gerosian to anyone with the proper degree of insanity.
I, Tom Montgomery, do will and bequeath to Mrs. Holbrook, all my undone homework.
I, Jim Moore, do will and bequeath my track ability to Dan Miller and Pat Sullivan, and to Mike Mills, my weightlifting routines.
I, Dave Moorhead, do will and bequeath my seat in Physic’s class to Pat Yeiser, that is, if she passes Chemistry.
I, Joan Morell, do will and bequeath my seat in Miss Anderson’s room to any well-deserving Junior.
I, Vince Morgillo, do will and bequeath to the guys in Gerosian the best of luck in everything they do.
I, John Morris, do will and bequeath my history book to Mr. Cree, in hopes he will give it to some student who doesn’t bring his to class.
I, Bob Mueller, do will and bequeath to new students, all the straws on the cafeteria ceiling.
I, Judy Nash, do will and bequeath to Mrs. Prudhon her Spanish vocabulary that counts.
I, Kathy Niles, do will and bequeath my “All the Glitters” broom to Mike Giblin, as soon as somebody finds it.
I, Frederick Noyes, do will and bequeath 10 million decimal points to Mr. Sterner, which will benefit his future students for years to come.
I, Loretta Odom, do will and bequeath my studio couch to Miss Wells’ office to all future unable bodies.
I, Bertha Ogletree, do will and bequeath my old gym shoes and suit to Pat Pride.
I, Ronald Olozewski, do will and bequeath all my marks to the teachers that gave them to me.
I, Phil Ostrander, do will and bequeath to Mr. Ace all my English tests below 75.
I, Billy Owens, do will and bequeath my basketball ability to those who may not have been gifted enough to play basketball.
I, Elizabeth Page, do will and bequeath my resting place in the girl’s gym to all weary souls who stay up late reading.
I, Judy Page, do will and bequeath my American History book to my cousin.
I, Joseph Paino, do will and bequeath my shop apron to Mr. Wagner.
I, Callie Ann Pappas, do will and bequeath all my 3 years at Central to anyone crazy enough to take them.
I, Barbara Penleton, do will and bequeath all my back homework to Mrs. Kline.
I, Philomena Piasanto, do will and bequeath my long brown hair to Mr. Money and his class to experiment with.
I, Morris Picket, do will and bequeath all my lav-passes to Mr. Daley
I, Kathy Pierce, do will and bequeath to Mrs. Jones all the Business Law tests that I’ve failed.
I, Dona Pinkney, do will and bequeath my cap and gown to LuAnn O’Brien.
I, Spence Plavocos, do will and bequeath to the German teacher, Mrs. Pappas, wonderful pictures of that glorious country, Greece.
I, Dick Powell, do will and bequeath to Larry Scrippa my slalom ski with the hope that he will practice faithfully.
I, Donna Prosser, do will and bequeath to Jim Higbee, the book, “How to Win Friends and Influence People.”
I, Henry Quantrille, do will and bequeath a big car to John Downing.
I, Oliver Quantrille, do will and bequeath all my old sneaks and trunks to Coach Lukens and Coach Heilig.
I, Ronald Quinlan, do will and bequeath to any Deserving Junior the English book we never used in or out of Mrs. Holbrook’s class.
I, Bill Reed, do will and bequeath to some Junior my superior knowledge of Modern Physics.
I, John Relyea, do will and bequeath the audio system in Lincoln Auditorium to Chris Pitonze.
I, Lee Reney, do will and bequeath to Coach Lukens, one bottle of turpentine for the 61 track team.
I, Bill Rice, do will and bequeath my typing fingers to Mr. Orzel and my hand to Cecelia.
I, Mary Ann Riester, do will and bequeath to Micky Krupa all my left over lunches.
I, Mary Ann Riley, do will and bequeath nothing … I’m just lucky to be going.
I, George Rinaldi, do will and bequeath my last bottle of brandy to Mr. Orzel to put a little life in his coffee.
I, Ernest Roberts, do will and bequeath my knowledge of electronics to Mr. Larcher.
I, Minnie Roberts, do will and bequeath my seat in all my classes to students who came to just occupy space.
I, Hal Robinson, do will and bequeath all my probation ships to Mr. Guszcza.
I, Robert Roe, do will and bequeath all my abilities, whatever they may be, to my brother.
I, David Ross, do will and bequeath to Miss Anderson, a parrot that says, “Stop Talking”, and to Mr. Hendee an absorbent crying towel.
I, Terry Ross, do will and bequeath to Kevin Bero, my ability to flash: to Pete Ryan my membership in the Four Roses.
I, Bob Rush, do will and bequeath to Miss Fiumano all my math assignments I failed to turn in.
I, Susan Russo, do will and bequeath my deck of cards to Mrs. Squire.
I, Sharon Ryan, do will and bequeath to Mrs. Holbrook a package of gum to chew in 4th yr. English class.
I, John Saunders, do will and bequeath my American History book to Mr. Cree.
I, Albert Schadel, do will and bequeath my parking space to anybody who can get it.
I, John Schweitzer, do will and bequeath a barrel of sawdust to all the Junior carpenters and to Mr. Shea a can of orange shellac.
I, Larry Scripa, do will and bequeath to Sam Sansone my great ability with a movie camera and my collection of pictures.
I, Carol Sellars, do will and bequeath to Mr. Mulfinger one shattered thistle tube which was once part of my hand.
I, Kim Shehadi, do will and bequeath to my sister Kip my swing, and to Teena Wakeman my collage boys.
I, Dave Shickel, do will and bequeath to Mr. Ace, a pen with red ink so that he can keep on marking.
I, Carol Simmons, do will and bequeath to the owners of the M&M some tranquilizers.
I, Eric Simmons, do will and bequeath my beautiful voice and all my shorthand notes to Johnny “Yuma” Fujack.
I, Geri-Dee Simon, do will and bequeath my marvelous marks in English to Sharon Ryan.
I, Martha Singer, do will and bequeath my first place in gym line to anyone who’s tall enough.
I, Dorothy Smith, do will and bequeath one squashed baseball to Marilyn Wells.
I, Wilma Smith, do will and bequeath to Mr. Orzell a ten year subscription to Fanny Farmer.
I, Joyce Smith, do will and bequeath to all new Centralites, some fun, which I have had here.
I, Dennis Snow, do will and bequeath to all the Freshman girls to George Howell.
I, David Sobolewski, do will and bequeath all my sympathy to any stupid Freshman who even attempts to major in technical subjects.
I, Martin Sohl, do will and bequeath my N. Y. Times to Mr. Cree.
I, Mike Solazzo, do will and bequeath to Mr. Tiedemann, my stack of excuses; he can have them.
I, Darleen Stacey, do will and bequeath to Mr. Hendee a handkerchief, to use while telling about accidents in Driver’s Ed.
I, Elaine Stachowicz, do will and bequeath to Mr. Hendee the tennis court at Kirk Park that I almost wrecked the first time I went driving.
I, Fred Steavens, do will and bequeath my sparkling personality and all my charms to the lovely girls of Central.
I, Hazel Sterner, do will and bequeath to all unfortunate pupils who plan on taking Mechanical Drawing in T212, the ability to get along with the teacher.
I, Christine Stevens, do will and bequeath to Roberta Ajeman all the mirrors in the girl’s lav and to Nancy Taffend, all the dates I had with Bobby Parillo.
I, Tom Stevenson, do will and bequeath my last year sombrero to Mrs. Prudhon.
I, Janet Storinge, do will and bequeath my ponytail to any future cheerleader who wishes to have it flap in her face.
I, Carollee Storey, do will and bequeath all of my apples to next year’s football players.
I, Zoia Stoyan, do will and bequeath to Miss Moran, a box of crackers.
I, Sandra Swetman, do will and bequeath to Mr. Orzel, all the good times we’ve had in his class.
I, Robert Taddeo, do will and bequeath to room 300 and all its wonderful contents to some lucky ham.
I, Linda Taylor, do will and bequeath to Mr. Orzel all of his uncollected History notes.
I, Albert (Sugar) Tinsley, do will and bequeath all my girls to Ed Senior, my basketball wizardry to Seth Page and my vacant starting position to Bill Pride, the Pro.
I, James Tinsley, do will and bequeath my love and kisses to all the girls at Central-Tech.
I, Pam Touse, do will and bequeath my seat at the lunch table to one of the Crowley trins.
I, Bill Trotman, do will and bequeath all my abilities and school spirit to Karen Wiley.
I, Dave Turo, do will and bequeath my safety glasses to Mr. Wagner.
I, William Van Luven, do will and bequeath to O. F. S. all of my screwed up parts.
I, Carl Vecchio, do will and bequeath a better ashtray for Mrs Berry’s car. My thanks to the teachers who tried to teach me.
I, Bernie Ventre, do will and bequeath my thumb to Chuck Togas so he can hitchhike to school every day.
I, Carl Verzillo, do will and bequeath my ability to get along with Mr. Tiedemann and my tremendous Corvette to Louis Santi.
I, John Visco, do will and bequeath all the carpentry Juniors to Mr. Shea’s hands.
I, Doug Wagner, do will and bequeath to Mr. Shea two new brushes with witch he can apply his miserable orange shellac.
I, Bruce Walker, do will and bequeath to anyone nutty to take it, my tuition and my ability to hitchhike 36 miles to school everyday.
I, Shirley Walker, do will and bequeath a larger sum of money to be used in tearing down the statue of the immortal Harvey Steinberg.
I, Matthew Wall, do will and bequeath to Mr. Braggins a book entitled, “How to Ham it Up.”
I, Tom Wallis, do will and bequeath to Mr. Mulfinger a check for one million dollars to use in establishing a new lab.
I, Clare Wamsley, do will and bequeath to Mr. Speach a complete tool kit so he can fix the seats in Room 203.
I, Willie Nell Watts, do will and bequeath to some lucky girl all the fun I’ve had with Eric Simmons in my Senior year.
I, Ken West, do will and bequeath my “sturdy” homeroom seat to some “deserving” student.
I, Larry West, do will and bequeath to Miss Moran a large bottle of anti-anger pills; may she rest in Bedlam.
I, Steve Wilde, do will and bequeath to Mr. Jones an unused Chemistry Workbook.
I, Ann Williams, do will and bequeath all the fun I had in coordinating the Senior Play to the Seniors next year.
I, Sue Williams, do will and bequeath to Mr. Hendee a new set of brakes to replace the ones I wore out.
I, Denzel Whalen, do will and bequeath to S. H. Steinberg a lifetime subscription to Mad Magazine.
I, Chuck Wright, do will and bequeath nothing to nobody, cause I just might be here next year.
I, Bruce Yenny, do will and bequeath one bottle of red ink to Mrs. Ketchum so she can write her red U’s on my last report card.
I, Nick Zaverdinos, do will and bequeath to Mr. Lukens the nails on the gym floor.

SYRACUSE CENTRAL TECHNICAL HIGH SCHOOL — CLASS OF 1961