Monterey High School - El Susurro Yearbook (Monterey, CA)

Page 24 text:

: wr

Page 23 text:

T116 C1388 of iRfC1'I1iI1iSCC1'lCCS The history of the Class of 1939 is really the story of the evolution of a group. As freshmen we were probably the most undistinguished and motley crew ever to grace the fair campus of Monterey High. When we look upon the blank expressions of this present Freshmen Class, it is easy enough to imagine what we looked like four long years ago. As far as class activities were concerned, we considered ourselves very fortunate to hold even two meetings. The grand total of our other class undertakings that first year amounted to exactly nil. After graduating from lowly Freshman ranks we woke up to a slight degree. Our class meetings became peppier and we had a financially successful concession in the May Circus. But the Junior Year may vtell be termed the time when we came of age. It was then that we burst out of our lethargy and became about the most active and successful junior Class in the school's history up to that time. We grew aware of our vital importance as UPPER'classmen, and demanded recognition of the fact that we were now among the privileged overlords of all we surf veyed. Naturally, we didn't remain in this state long-the Class of 1938 saw to that! At any rate, we began to show the school that we were good for something. XVe were proprietors of the best concession in the May Circus, 1938, and we held a successful pie sale. Rumor has it that our two dances were the year's best. The junior Dance was held to raise money, and the Juni0rfSenior Prom was held to spend the money which we had raised. As individuals, members of our class distinguished themselves in all phases of student affairs. Some turned their hands to running general student body business, others took part in the work of various organizations. Indeed, when we reached our senior status quo, we believed that we had really accomplished something. So-here we are, proud and mighty seniors, a long way from the dazed fresh' nten of yesterday. Today we can sit back with disdain and watch the struggling under' classmen strive to attain our lofty heights of attainment as a class. But as individual members of a school, society and state we are aiming toward further goals of usefulness. Our hope is, that when we leave Monterey High to go out to add our bit to civilization, we may be even more successful in our later endeavors than we have been here in our class activities.

Page 25 text:

-.7.!5---,ku-:--., - --i . anim ersanalifies When we view our great state of California we seldom stop to think of it as made up of many component parts. Rather we tend to look upon it as a whole. Actual' ly, California is an ever-shifting panorama. From the great silent forests of the north to the constantly changing life of the south, California is indeed fortunately different. In this, our state may well be compared to our Class of 1939. It is possible to liken the varied personalities of a class to the different sections of a state. First, there is Hollywood-the synthetic city of glamour. There, what counts is the outward impression-the real things that are deep down underneath are 'of little consequence. In the southland, the artificial reigns supreme. It is easy to picture a person who is the personification of this part of California. One can easily imagine him or her walking down the street dressed in flashy clothes, giving the glad hand to every acquain- tance--no matter how slight. Then we come north to the great majestic Sierras, calm and tranquil under their covering of cool green forest and everlasting snow. In this region of silent grandeur, mere man must move with almost reverent step. The entire atmosphere is one of tranf quillity and silent thought. A far cry indeed from the rush and hurry of the south. Here is the person who believes in thinking things out for himself, standing on his own two feet. Superficial matters hold little interest for him. Then we have the limitless expanse of dry arid desert. In this inferno of scorched wasteland not a living thing exists. The only signs of motion are the waves of hot air incessantly drifting toward the sky. Can't you see him with a dull, blank, express' ionless look on his face-with his everlasting reams of words about nothing in particular pouring out as if from an eternal geyser? All who contact this wasteland are smitten with ennui. From there we go to bustling, cosmopolitan San Francisco. Here is a city con- taining a little of every portion of the world-yet totally different from any single part of it. A feeling of charm and good fellowship permeates the atmosphere. One cannot help absorbing a little of the rare and fascinating. The background of blue water and silver steel, furnished by the bay and the great bridges enhances the rare beauty of this city. From quaint and curious Chinatown with its myriads of odd shops and twisting