Alamance High School - Smoke Signals Yearbook (Greensboro, NC)

Page 38 text:

Prophecy Rachel Haralson, Prophet and in class, Mr. Between outbursts Dropping into the solution three drops of the wrong acid, I gave a cry of rage and slammed a lid over the bottle. A puff of strong smelling smoke arose from it and the lid sailed slowly out an open window. Two weeks later Mr. Morgan had perfected his Supersonic Radiation Atomic Space Ship, using the result of my experiment for fuel. I was given the dubious honor of testing it in the unknown stratosphere. After many goodbys, I checked the radarscope, the activated reactors, fastened my space belt and oxygen helmet, and then blasted off into the outer Solar System. Later, no dangerous asteroids in sight, I relaxed. I noticed the speed rate. The ship had reached the speed of light. I felt a strange transformation. I cut my iets, the speed declined and automatically the ship landed itself. I had passed the time limit. I was in the future, 1963. We were nearing the end of school in the year 1952, Morgan was extolling my stupidity as a Chemistry student. of disgust he directed my experiment on an absurd gas. An idea presented itself. Imps of Saturn! What a chance to find my former classmates and see what had become of them. I fastened my speed gear to my space belt and headed for the phono-vision directory. Alphabetically, Causey came first. She had been listed, then marked out and stamped-Mobile, Ala. I directed my space gear toward Mobile and arrived quicker than a iet blue blaze. A snappy sign Cae's Creations hung over an attractive shop. Peeking inside, I found Mary Catherine, and her answer to a career in her shop where she designed costumes for the better night clubs from Maine to Florida. I looked to my directory next to find the name Coble stamped over with the words, Indianapolis, Indiana. Within a matter of minutes I was there, looking for Keith, who as you know, always in his eye. Imagine my disappointment when driver, or so I thought. Fortunately this was a top five Modified Stock Car Racers of the day. Bobbie Durham was listed next, and as I in Atlanta, Georgia. Her love of color and her work had combined to make her an extremely had a certain daring twinkle I found he was only a truck side line. He was one of the had expected, she was living talent for any kind of artistic successful Interior Decorator. Charles Durham, voted most athletic in his class, was an important pitcher for the Chicago White Sox. He had hopes of becoming the World's Youngest Major League Coach in baseball. Gay Paree had always interested Joanne Fogleman, but I was still surprised to find that she had become the entertainment sensation at Macim's, one of the most widely known Clubs in Paris. Roberta Forsythe was never too interested in airplanes or flying, but she had become the first woman instructor to call in planes from the tower of the Greensboro-High Point Airport. Virginia Gorrell, I discovered, had stayed in Greensboro, but she no longer ar-,Jed about skirtsiwith waists too large. She had made a fortune with her new skirt which adiusts to fit all waists.

Page 37 text:

vain when that night, we were enioying the fellowship of our classmates and the Seniors at the beautiful Starmount Country Club. Our class rings were ordered after we finally decided that we would have a ruby for the stone. We anxiously awaited our rings and then one day they came. It was an excited and proud group of Juniors that went around school flashing their new iewelry. It wasn't long until Rachel exchanged hers for one of Green's rings, and several others mysteriously disappeared. We were quite honored when the Seniors asked us to carry pretty wands for them at their graduation excercises. As we stood there, watching the Seniors march slowly down the aisle under the wands we suddenly realized that in only one year we would be graduating, too. There was a lump in our throats as we told the graduates good-by, but this lump was softened by the fact that we were now the Seniors. The summer was short, and then we were mounting the last round in the ladder of our high school days. We were Seniors! We had lost four members of our class, however, we gained Martha Jones, who soon became a valuable member of our class. As we think of the events of this unforgettable year we remember that-Joan Fogleman was elected class president, then our annual staff and newspaper staff were carefully chosen. The Harvest King, Queen and attendants were elected. Our Thanksgiving program was an outstanding event. We worked and complained about Bookkeeping and English, but we managed to make a passing grade. The annual staff had its disagreements, but we patched up our differences. Sometimes we wondered whether or not it was worth the trouble, but when our books came back from the press, all these doubts vanished, and we were busy autographing the rest of the day. Another important event this year was the Junior-Senior Banquet, and this time we were the honored guests! And we were truly and delightfully honored. A chapter of the National Beta Club was organized and five Senior girls were asked to ioin. The Peace Pipe staff did a good job too. They managed to publish an attractive and readable newspaper. The Senior girls paiama parties were famous and many happy hours were spent together. The days slipped by and we found ourselves busy practicing and planning our Commencement Day. As we are about to leave these halls of learning, we realize that our Commencement is not an end but a beginning, the beginning of a new life which we have never known before. As for the remaining chapters in the lives of the 1953 graduating class of Alamance High School, only fate, the individual characters, and the ambitions of the twenty members will furnish the material to finish this history.

Page 39 text:

Alene Hanner wanted to become a secretary. In California, I found that she had become private secretary to Jason and Jason fa law firml, but many say it should be named Jason, Jason and Hanner. Martha Jones, our Most Attractive Girl, had taken pity on the less attractive of her sex and become a hair stylist. Her theory that anyone could be attractive with the correct hair style had made her a very popular lady with a small shop among the elite in Miami. I learned that Billy Moorefield had a most modern farm, but even better, he owned one of the best private libraries in the nation. Mary Ruth Moorefield had put her selling powers to work in an exclusive dress shop in Richmond. Her customers came from everywhere. Many girls in our class had dreamed of becoming a Nurse during high school, but Suzie Neese did more than dream. She had become Head Nurse at the Carolina School of Nursing, at Chapel Hill, N. C. Doris Oliver had a world all her own. She was fashion consultant for the great chain of Ellis Stone Stores. In her iob she met all the most handsome and eligible men in the merchandising business. Ann Rankin, our quiet, controlled girl, had made a name for herself as an eminent lecturer on the art of Sportsmanship. I could still see her on the court, balancing the basketball in one hand and using the other to pull one of her team mates to her feet. Elizabeth Ann Reece had become a Nurse-Receptionist in a dentist office in New Jersey. She looked most efficient in her white uniform. In high school Norman Sharpe was active in 4-H work, winning grand prizes for his beef. I found him on a well paying cattle ranch near Dallas, Texas, and most contented with life. Patsy Swaim was another from our class to enter the nursing profession. I found her doing wonders in the Cerebral Palsy field. Betty Faye Thacker once declared she would become someone important in the Women's All American Baseball League. Even so, I was surprised to find her coaching the top team of the day and expecting to win the 1964 Pennant. In this search for classmates one person was missing. Betty Flinchum seemed to have disappeared from earth. Leaving the Stadium, I almost collided with her. Here, I had found her. She was trainer for the league Betty Thacker was coaching, and doing a fine iob. My errand completed, the problem of returning to 1953 presented itself. I had no intentions of losing ten years of my life. I rocketed toward my space ship, mapped my course and reverse jetted back into outer space. Great Rings of Saturn! I had no idea how far I had gone when I realized that I had found no trace of myself in the future world. What HAD become of me? I had no way of finding out, for there was no way to return to 1963. I again reached the speed of light, and for a second time, I felt the strange transformation, only this moment my gyroscope shattered and the balance was upset. I grabbed my space gear and bailed out. The instant I stepped from it, the ship disintegrated. Some of you will say this is impossible, and some will say it is only the idle dream of a class prophet, but we, our class, will know, and only smile at your doubts, for we are seniors. The world is ours, and to us all is possible.