Beaufort High School - Beaufortonian Yearbook (Beaufort, SC)

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Eleventh grade - more and more and more money- raising proiects, our magazine sale being the most fruitful. We sponsored beauty contests, and again one of our class- mates was chosen Sweetheart of B.H.S. And of course, no one will ever forget our Junior-Senior. lt was considered the most outstanding ever given. We really worked hard on it, and it was the most beautiful thing we had ever seen. Tears flowed when our lovely pond broke just five hours before the dance was to begin. After much ado from all hands we repaired the mess, and the prom was a huge success. Twelfth grade - can you believe it, SENIORS at last! Biggest and busiest year yet! There was the Powder Bowl contest, there were the college entrance exams which we all studied so hard for, our class rings finally arrived, and there was the mad rush to meet the publication deadline for the annual. Work piled up on us - essays - term papers - interrupted by the physical fitness tests. Whatsoever' House I Enter was the Senior play that was so much fun and took so many hours of practice. The trip to New York and Washington was wonderful in every way and exciting beyond description. The May Day Festival was thrilling and beau- tiful in every detail as our King and Queen really held a fes- tive court. The Junior-Senior prom was lovely and all that we had eagerly anticipated. Graduation, the seniors somber in white cap and gown, was a proud time, a sad time, the last time for many of us to share our time and pleasures. This phase of our life has come to an end, but we will always remember these days and the wonderful time that we have had. We have come a long way from that day twelve years ago when we giggled and pushed our way into our first class- room. We've been boosted and encouraged by our teach- ers and advisors-we shall miss their kindly assistance as we move into the impersonal adult world. Beaufort High, we shall miss you-please miss us a little, too, and thanks, for everything .... . . No school is like the old school, The school we knew so well, The plain old school of by-gone days, With its clanging, ding-dong bell, In our ears we hear its music still As the bell swung to and fro, In fancy hear the scholars' din As to their desks they go. No days are like the school day- We see the teachers there, We hear the schoolroom's droning buzz, Feel mischief in the air, We hold again our books and slates, Play games again with vim, A misty haze is o'er those days- Perhaps our eyes are dim .... Hubert J. Dance Page One Hundred Twenty-Three

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SHACK DRIVE-IN Our favorite Home Away from Home!