Freeport High School - Polaris Yearbook (Freeport, IL)

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-+81 'A' The 'l94'l POLARIS is on the air, broadcasting on a frequency of 1300 studo-cycles. Our station has been associated with the Orange and Blaclc Network for the past thirty-Five years. Here is a resume of the now Fin- ished school year, with a glimpse at the Seniors Clhe Voices of Experiencej, the Underclassmen C-lhe Quiz KidsD, and the voice behind it all, the Faculty Clnlormation Pleasel. May we present this boolc to you-lor your listening-pardon-reading pleasure. MILDRED POPOV .... ....... C o-editor BOB ENGELHART .... ........... C o-editor GEORGE GREEN ..... ..... B usiness Manager SYLVIA BREED ....... .... A ssistant Editor HARRY CRAMER ..... ..... A ssistant Editor

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410' The Fall of '37-long dresses-short hair-and the Man on the Flying Trapeze leading every private hit arade. l came heading through the sacred portals of F. H. S. and landed on the floor in a heap--red and white, hot and cold, by turns. Yes l took the traditional freshman fall-not because l was green, but because the freshly waxed floors were fatal to my newly acquired dignity. Feeling free, fresh, and plenty smart, l helped swing the election for Hardie, Cramer, and Mensenkamp. - Just to prove l wasn't an awed and speechless Freshman, l entered the first Ereshman Oratorical Contest. l sailed along in fine style until l met Killer oenig. Then as proof that one defeat couldn't get me down, l crossed my fingers, took off my shoes, and tried out for Huck Finn. Despite the loose-jointed scenery and the universal loss of memory, the performance swelled our class treasury by S'l3.00. June! l l After saving a whole week's allowance to hire a truck to take home the collection in my locker, l called for my credit card, relinquished green as my favorite color, and officially became a full-fledged Sophomore. ln '38 the general populace celebrated the birth of the Drooler by clack- ing enthusiastically in their wooden shoes from it to the rival Genome and comparing juicy tid-bits. - l sang Phooery-ackie-sakien as l stalked into the cafeteria and demanded my favorite dish-fish! After having safely shifted the responsibility of guiding our class through the hazards of Sophomority to the shoulders of Carol Mensenkamp, Jerry Jaeger, and Helene Armogast, l devoted my time to an attempt to solve the problem of How Much Land Does a Man Need'? , and blithely entered the Sophomore Oratorical Contest. l met my Waterloo in the persons of those loquacious leaders-Green, Koenig Hillman, and Freerksen. And so, with a flash of the pen fon my credit cardl this self-satisfied Sopho- more iumped up into the Junior ranks, and skipped down the steps to 17 and a locker on first. Ho huml What a Lifeln Back to school again, and as an upper classman l felt it my solemn duty to heckle the newly entered Freshmen. Despite the heat wave, we Juniors got right busy and selected Murray Jayne, Al Green, and Pat Kraft as class officers. ln March the dramatically inclined members of my class donned the real-life personalities of the .Aldrich family and introduced their l-lair-brain Henry to the Freeport public. Armed with hammer, thumb tacks, and tissue paper, l helped change the quite ordinary gym for our very extraordinary prom with Marg lrwin and Andy Dennis directing the transformation. l bade a not-too-fond farewell to the class of '40 and brooded over the prospect of being one of next year's burden-bearing Seniors. The Fall of '40-short skirts-long bobs-and the general population whistles Frenesi as they rhumba down the hall. While my parents pondered the problem of whom to elect President of the United States, l was equally puzzled about whom to elect president of the Senior class. However, the little white ballots gave the decision to Kenneth fSudsD Sutterlin with Bob CDobbyD Dahm as vice-president and Dorothy Hillman as secretary-treasurer. We delved into the mysteries of the other world when Death 'Took' a Holiday , and the infernal clicking of knitting needles was brought to a halt when the handsome, he-man l-laupert appeared on the scene in that beautiful white uniform. We hit the spot with our Senior Carnival, and the crowned craniums of Cookie and Sandy were enough to do any Senior class proud. Pat Kraft and George Green made this the Number one hit of the week and tuned up our class with Our Hit Parade. So, having donned the little battleship grey numbers, and having kissed my locker good-bye, l, herewith, present myself plus my lambskin to the WORLD- and hope it's glad to get me. l. Spy.