Minooka High School - M DI AN Yearbook (Minooka, IL)

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Senior Jfisfvry Our class started its trip through high school with 34 members and we are ending this trip with only 22 members. We have been well represented in all activities through our four years, some of which were: basketball, baseball, track, cheerleading, band, chorus, Peace Pipe Chatter, M-DI-AN, F.H.A., F.F.A., and Student Council. This year our Student Council members were John Findlay and Lois Severson. Our Senior year We have been busy preparing for the Christmas party, Sock Hop, scholarship tests, and history reports. These past four years have been full of many different' types of experiences which we feel have enriched our lives.

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Glass Prrfphccy Dear john, When I saw you last, you said that I should tell you all about my recent trip to the moon. Anyhow, I have gone now, and that is where I am writing this letter from. I sure wish you could have come along, but I realize that you are very busy on your project to irrigate the Pacific Ocean. How are the wife and kids? Mrs. Findlay, I remember, is the former Vada Knudson. A Now, about my trip. First, I bought my ticket for the moon at the Minooka Rocket Terminal. Selling the tickets was Barb Binkele, who I soon discovered is now Mrs. Bob Chernisky. Bob owns the world's largest junk yard and they are very rich and getting richer. Looking out the window, I could see the rocket that I would be traveling in, the Pluto. When I turned around, who should I see but our old pal, Art Hutchinson. Art, it seems, designed and built the Pluto. He seemed confident that it would work, but when I suggested that he come along, he turned pale and asked me if I was crazy. He screamed that he would never, under any circumstances, ride in one of his rockets. This attitude puzzled me for a while, but Art's wife Joanne fyes, Joanne Patten Hutchinsonj said that so many of Artis rockets have blown up that he is a bit leery of going near them. By this time, I had almost decided to cancel my trip, but something hit me on the head and knocked me out. When I awoke, I found myself strapped down inside the Pluto. All us passengers were very frightened, but the co-pilots came back and assured us that this was normal pre-flight procedure. They looked familiar and sure enough, it was Alden Erickson and Glenn Sing. When I asked if they recognized me, they did and we had a very pleasant conversation before it was time to blast off. Before they left, though, Alden handed me what he said was a super-cosmic-ray gun. Glenn said it was for shooting down satellites. Soon after we blasted off, we started to pass by satellites. By leaning out the porthole, I found that I could pick them off with no trouble. Suddenly I saw a very big round satellite go by. From this I surmised that it was our old buddy, Bill Brewer, who was put in the first manned satellite. If you remember, Bill went up in his satellite shortly after his marriage to Lois Severson, and has since refused to come back down. Lois, you remem- ber, liked to argue. Well, I just couldn't resist shooting at that satellite too, but I quit when he shot back at me. Our journey was soon over as the moon came into view. Our landing was very rough, and I could see why. Alden and Glenn had landed our rocket on its side, which is decided- ly not the way to land a rocket. We crawled out of the rocket and were greeted by a large, happy crowd, made up partly of moon natives, but mostly of immigrants from Earth. I went to the customs office and the first person I met was the examining physician. Though his hair was gray, I recognized Harold Saltzman. He was all business, and after looking at my tonsils said that I had athlete's foot. I didn't know how he could tell, since I had my tonsils out years ago. Oh yes, one of the officials there was Leona Pehlke. I finally got through customs, and walked out into the street. The first thing I did was fall down an open manhole. On picking myself up, who should I see but Larry Todd. Larry is chief of the moon's sewer workers. After helping me out of the sewer, Larry invited me to dinner at his home that evening. While walking down the street, I saw the moon-famous College of Crude Arts, dean of which is Milos Konjevich. I dropped in to see Milos and also met his wife, the former Bev Todd, who is now a psychiatrist. That night, at the home of Larry and his wife, the former Retha Brown, I saw all the ex-Minooka Indians who now dwell on the moon. Glenn and Alden were there with their wives, whose names used to be Peggy McCoy and Pat Anderson. Dr. Harold Saltzman was present with his wife, the former Virginia Wallin. The president of the Earth-Watchers Society, Charlene Heap, was there too. Charlene was one of the earliest immigrants to the moon and she married one of the native moon-men. Step-ladder man- ufacturer Margaret Good came on her rocket-powered pogo stick. In closing, I just want to say that I'm having a great time, and I wish you were here. Yours truly, E JIM WINKLER

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Hlass LW!! I, Pat Anderson, will my red hair to Tonya Weers. I, Barb Binkele, will the mole on my chin to Kay Holbrook. I, William Brewer, will my hose and gas can to Dennis Wfilhelmi. I, Bob Chernisky, will my white bucks, that I can't keep clean, to Jim Herringer. I, Alden Erickson, will my tactics in Ag to Bob Vickery. I, john Findlay, will my Blue Bomb to Barb Heap. I, Margaret Good, will my height to Sharon Randolph. I, Charlene Heap, will my short hair to Betty Morris. I, Arthur Hutchinson, will my slightly used locker to jack Phillips. I, Vada Knudson, will my freshman boyfriends to Margery Knudson. I, Milos Konjevich, will my collection of broken padlocks to jim Rushing. I, Peggy McCoy, will all my books with the wrong answers in them to Carolyn jones. I, Joanne Patten, will all of my nicknames to Sandy Horton. I, Leona Pehlke, will my green eyes to my little sister, in F.H.A., Carol Blair. I, Harold Saltzman, will my seat in the last row of English class to Bing Gersch. I, Lois Severson, will my freckles to joe Viano. I, Glenn Sing, will my superior basketball polishing ability to Alfred Cook. I, Beverly Todd, will all my old tardy slips to my sister, Mickey. I, Larry Todd, will my bowlegs to jim Sheets. I, Virginia Wallin, will my false front tooth to joe Coyne. I, james Winkler, will my ability to drive into bridges to Jack Overton.