Columbus Grove High School - Col Gro Yearbook (Columbus Grove, OH)

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CDIUIQ CEILASS Not long have We to go this year Our Senior name then will disappear, The Juniors then will fake the lead And Sophmores too, will then proceed. We'll miss the study halls we had Even the times when we were bad- The kids around, all chewing gum And even studying are some. We'll miss the feud with Juniors dear, I guess this happens every year If only one year could pass by, Without this feud in Senior High. A nickel for the paper too Is something we 'won't get to do. Or tarry up and down the stairs In groups of four or three or pairs. We'll miss not studing at night, Waiting chapel is our delightg Some other things we'll have to do When'er our Senior year is through. We'll miss the teachers who taught all And helped us up, when down we'd fall. Our Superintendent and Principal too, Oh, yes we owe so much to you. I think we've helped to build this school By living each and 'every rule- On time to school each day we'd be This gave us merit points you see. I know we'll miss each thing we've done And gee it's been a lot of fung Moms and pops still call us minorsg But our real name is Forty Niners.

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IHIISTVCDIRIY What a priceless jewel has been given to all- MEMORY. It may be stored away in some tiny, in- significant nook, some old, faded diary, or perhaps it maybe just a pressed and crumbling petal, but the mind in 'its unfathomable and miraculous way takes the scattered fragments, and, with one swift stroke, brushes all cobwebs of time away, leaving a reborn and familiar scene of yesteryear. I have only to reminisce for a fleeting moment to be pervaded with memoirs of dear old Alma Mater. What an accumulation I seem to have made in twelve years. Of the hilarious, heart breaking, breath tak- ing, and absurd, there are those which have made such an impression, that I' find occasion-time after time-to recall them. To this day, I never eat rice or stewed carrots, but that I think of the third grade and our teacher, Miss Dorothy Maynard. One noon she treated us to the privilege of cooking our dinner on an electric hot plate. The menu was to be stewed carrots and cook- ed rice, topped with a wild concoction of fudge, poured into an empty egg shell-the results were scorched carrots, three or four victims choking on egg shells, and thirty-six hungry stomaches. John Lugibill started out qui-te young charming the fairer sex-to be exact, 'twas in the fourth grade. After breaking his right arm, he hypnotized Betty Ven Demark into writing all his lessons for him. John definitely wasn't left-handed. We remember the janitor coming into the sixth grade room to measure a seat for a newly arrived classmate, Richard Baxter. The first day we ventured into Junior High and peeked cautiously into the horrible, much-heard- about office is one we'll never forget. To the mice who, in our eighth grade year, built a snug nest under the piano in study hall, we owe many a forty-Hve minutes of entertainment. Our Freshman class underwent quite a remark- able change when it acquired twenty-four new faces from Cairo and Columbus Grove Parochial Schools. Those among the newcomers were as follows: Car- olyn Anderson, Beaverdamg Ruth Basinger, Blanch- ard, Carol Jones, Kalidag Bernice Mills, Dalinos, California, Richard Hoffman, Waverly, Ohio, Torn Kaple, St. John's, Limag Ethel Gerdeman, Darlene Bok, Ilene Lackey, Patty Lamb, Paul Altstaetter, Gail Brenneman, Merlin Cattell, Bob Wert, Cairo, Edna Mae Hermiller, Dorothy Karcher, Mary Kurb- er, Mary Bertha Knott, Ruth Ann Steckschulte, Bill Alt, Bob Maag, Urban Maag, Bob Palte, Alvin Schroeder, Donald Schroeder, Cletus Schumacher, John Steckschulte, James Steckschulte, St. Anthony. With a chuckle we recall our Freshman skating party, when Mr. Shank our sponsor, fell while trying to imitate Mr. Shook's neat figure eight. I can still visualize the turmoil and anxiety the day Pat Shook fainted in Mrs. Now's Freshman Eng- lish class-that we were reading Scott's Lady of the Lake had nothing to do with the incident. Misfortune and sorrow fell upon the Sophmore class of '47 when its president, Ervin Roberts, pass- ed away. Our Junior year was crammed with happenings, but the two brightest high lights were Junior class play and the prom. The night of the play, one of the stage managers found that the chicken leg Clar- ice, Basinger was supposed to eat, had been slightly molested by a mousief . No one mentioned a word to Clarice, and to this clay she is in perfect health. The word prom recalls hopeful girls and bashful boys, the mad scramble to finish decorations, the last minute leak in the Juniors' genius water fountain, the nervous toastmaster, class president, and speak- ers. Despite all before-hand difficulties and wor- ries, a lot of romantically exotic things happened in the old gym that night. We in the chemistry lab made the odors in the corridors a little more strongly pronounced than any other preceeding class. Betty Jenkins tried to rid the school of us one morning by starting a big ex- plosion in lab. She only succeeded in singeing her hair and eye-brows. From Lima Central High came Charles Hammer to join us in our senior year. We'll miss Mr. Smfth's clever jokes, the world's series ball games we heard in study-hall, Mr. Shook and his love for the Democrats, the tick of the old clock in study hall and the protesting groan fits ancient Hours, the diversion from studies caused by chapels and fire drills, Mr. Burson's numerous bright ties, the bells, Mrs. L:nk's fascinating jewelry, the janitors, who always had a cheerful smile or word, selling potato chips and candy at noons, the lockers that have sheltered our personals and battered books for four years, the feeling of pride and victory after winning a school ball game, the friendships that we've known, the proverbs we read in study halls that gave us bits of wisdom, the pep meetings, and most of all we'll miss you, dear Alma Mater,-You, so staunch, who have been a bulwark to us all for twelve years. We bid you farewell! -Eleanor Hoffman.