1963-1964
FOUR
In September, 1962, we began our Brooklyn Tech saga, a legend fraught with
pitfalls and opportunities. In fact, 1962 was a year of
begint~ing.
The Peace Corps,
then in its infancy, spurred many Americans to pursue a dedicated way of life.
In 1964, Mr. Michael Fineberg, one of our teachers, heard the call. Today, he
teaches physics in India.
Elsewhere, Morocco began life under a new constitutiotJ. In Tech, the student
handbook, which was being re'l'ised to accommodate to changes in the school, was
distributed during the 1963·64 school year.
In 1962 our football team won the City Championship. Our star player, Bob
Jefferson, was a member of the AII·City Team. College football interest centered on
Terry Baker, Oregon State quarterback, who won the Heisman Trophy.
In space.tra'l'el, the Russians achie'l'ed the first rende{'I'Ous; three new U. S.
astronauts made successful flights; and Mariner
II
'l'oyaged to Venus. Tech's aero·
course curriculum expanded to include space·tra'l'el.
The entire country sensed the possibility of a Kennedy dynasty. At Tech, there
already was a one in control, the Mercurio brothers ser'l'ing as Senior G.O. president
and 'l'ice.president.
The 1963·64 school season was a year of change and sorrow. In an alley near
the school, an old matJ had been sellitag 'l'egetables /or O'l'er thirty years. After the
summer hiatus, two tin Coca Cola sigm boarded the entratace. Unexpectedly does
the etad come, e'l'en to that which seems perpetual. That first day set the year's
theme.
Just a week before Thanksgi'l'ing, something unbelie'l'ably shocking took place.
It was sunny, innocent, another Friday; next week, only three days of school. Until
the eighth period it had been an ordinary school day. Then chimes /or a P.A.
announcement sounded, portentous chimes, 11•hich we had ne'l'er heard at any time
other than prefect. Mr. Pabst spoke, "The president has been shot in Dallas. There
are no more details."
A strange apprehensi'l'e aura en'l'eloped the class. No orae said much; eyes and
minds were arrested by the speaker box abo'l'e the American flag. Again the chimes
sounded; the 'l'oice returned, "The president died at Park/antis Hospital from a
gunshot wound
in
the head." Ata eerie silence pre'l'ailed. In prefect, another an·
nouncement: "No Arista dance tonight." It seemed superfluous.
"In Memory of a Fellow Student" was framed in black on a Sur'l'ey page. Just
the other day he was one of us, walking, talking, thinking, laughing; life seemed
utaending, sprawled out in front of him. A day passes, what is left? An empty seat
on the gym floor, a seat unfilled
in
each class and a memory of just yesterday.
People die e'l'ery day but they are old, bedridden, less of this world. But this, without
any ad'l'ance warning!
