Coquille High School - Laurel Yearbook (Coquille, OR)

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THE SONG OF HIGHASCHOOLA. • • In the pretty Coquille Valley Stood a school house small, but greedy. Caught the children as they passed it. Pulled them in and tried to teach them. Sent them forth when came vacation To take rest from arduous labor. For eight years this was repeated, Till the earth and all that’s in it Was well learned by these young children. But to please their pleading parents— Not to learn more, for they couldn’t— Back the children came to High School In the green and gold September; Met a man whose nose was lengthy, Long and slim with glasses on it, Had to tell him of their record. Small they felt before his presence, But he sent them into High School With its Algebra and English, And its strange barbaric actions. There they worked and flunked and conquered To escape the stigma “Freshmen.” But at last they reached the Soph class; Then their heads began their growing, Growing larger, swelling daily As they passed with flying colors To the lofty rank of Juniors. Through that year they prospered greatly With the Senior goal before them. When they reached the Senior section Proud they were and very worthy. Now they leave the school forever But they leave their fame behind them; Long the school will tell the stories Of their actions quite unequalled, For this tale that I have told you Is the story of the Seniors— Of the Class of Nineteen Sixteen.

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HISTORY OF CLASS OF 1916. • • In 1913 fifteen Freshmen were enrolled in the Coquille High School. These were: George Aker, Agness Bersager, Hugh Harlocker, Olive Howey, Vera Kelley, Leslie Kime, Julian Leslie, Keith Leslie, Edwin Lund, Earl Schroeder, Marion Schroeder, Doris Peoples, Ross Davenport, Stewart Norton and Mable Schroeder. This was the year of the first Annual of the Coquille High School and all but three of the illustrations were by the Freshmen. Three of our number were on the foot ball team and took part in athletics in general. Nineteen Hundred Fourteen is chiefly remembered by the class of ’16 as the year Mary Levar and Verna Phillips joined us. The year is also remembered by the present Seniors for the various social activities in which they indulged. Doris Peoples represented Coquille in the Declamatory Contest at Bandon, and Julian Leslie, Verna Philips and Olive Howey took part in the public speaking recital, Julian and Verna taking prominent parts in the play, “The Obstinate Family.” The next year Keith Leslie was Basket Ball captain, George Aker, rooter king, and Merton Tyrrell represented the school in oratory and was also on the debating team, winning the county championship in the former and keeping the McCormac cup in C. H’. S. for another year. All the cartoons and the cover design of the 1915 Laurel were drawn by members of the Class of ’16, and in addition two poems and a eulogy appeared in the Annual from our class. The year of Nineteen Sixteen sees the class of Sixteen numbering eleven, but only a few of the same pupils are left. George Aker, Olive Howey, Mary Levar, Hugh Harlocker, Julian Leslie, Clara Moser, Merton Tyrrell, Keith Leslie, Edwin Lund, Elizabeth Hufford and Vera Kelley comprise the present Senior class. This year the class gave a play, took part in the literary meetings and their usual active part in athletics. Mary Levar and Merton Tyrrell were leaders of the two debating teams and Julian Leslie took second place in the county oratorical contest. Keith: “Why, there ain’t no patriotism any more. They won’t even let you shoot a firecracker on the 4th of July. No, sir. You got to go out in the woods and eat a sandwich.” Marc, translating German: “And the ankle joins the leg with the hip.”

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CLASS PROPHECY • • Despite the lavish furnishings, my bachelor apartment seemed lonesome and dreary. All my business associates, who were more fortunate, at least in one respect, than I, had left for their winter quarters in Florida for a short vacation.' Sitting before the open grate, I carelessly glanced over my evening paper and laid it aside, and taking up my diary, I recorded the events of another tedious day. Giving up the thoughts of business for the more prosy dreaming of my past, I mechanically picked up the diary and began to turn back the pages and read little sketches of my adventures. The stubborn leaves were running under my thumb, and by chance they stopped at an insertion which aroused me and I read on: “August 1, 1930. Today I left my office in San Francisco for a two-months’ tour in quest of adventure. On board the “Yukon Limited,” I am starting north caring little where the opportunity of adventure makes its appearance. The train rolls on and so ends another day. “August 2, 1930. I woke early and the train was still speeding northward. I was leisurely enjoying my breakfast and conversing with the other tourists, when I was startled by the cry of “Coquille, Coquille.” Here was my destination, though I had not known it when I started. Leaving my breakfast and the train, I found myself in a beautiful little city, proudly overlooking a green valley and blossoming with prosperity. After viewing the city for some hours, I started through the business district. There were few familiar signs, but one bore the name “-----:---- -------------, Tailors and Dressmakers.” The name drew me and I stepped in. I had not seen a dozen familiar faces all day,yet I was not surprised to find my old classmate, Mary Levar, directing the children’s department. To find her in a tailoring establishment was not surprising, although I cannot see why she still clung to Coquille. I gleaned from my chat with Mary that George Akers and Clara Moser were also inhabitants of Coquille. I found George in the office of the Pacific Lumber Co., in his old familiar voice commanding a camp boss to “get a hustle onto himself and hit for the tall and uncut.”—Clara was seated at her desk gently reprimanding an unruly pupil, when I walked into the office of City Superintendent of Schools. Here I had a pleasant chat over the old times of the graduating class of Sixteen.—Having found three of my classmates I determined to find the other eight if possible. “August 15, 1930. Today, I arrived in Chicago. I had given up hope of finding the other schoolmates of Sixteen.— Went to Grand Opera and looking over the program, I espied the name of Mme. Hufford. This sound-