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Page 32 text:
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' 9 ' irst 5siTie5ter Sophomores .v Front row, lhft to ric;mt: T. V. MILLS, ED GARTXLR. ROBERT XORA, BOB MacDOA ' ALD, BARRY B.VLDWTN, DANID McXAIR. JA.MES PHILLIPS, WILLARD SMITH. Second row, lept to bight: RALPH WIDELL, JOE SNYDER, CLARK ANTHONY, CHARLES HOBBY, MARY ROWLEY, BILL CROWDER. ROBERT REILLY, J. E. FOLSOlM, BERNARD MLINSEY. Not in picture: NEAL BOOTH, PAUL COBB, JACK DUFF. DAN GOODRUM, VAN FIOW ' ARD, .MARYANN McSHEFFRY These students entered college at the beginning of the second semester of the school year 1945-46 and reached Sophomore standing at mid-term of 1946-47. They will complete their college work at mid-term of next year and receive their diplomas at the end of the year. These first-semester Sophomores constitute an important part of the student body, with several outstanding campus leaders included in their number.
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Page 31 text:
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Prophecy .y $ Yt ' stcrcl.iy cMMiing as ni tlioiiLjIus were poiulcring on iiKiiiy tilings, 1 began to wonder wliere this year ' s graduates would be ten years Irom now and what they would be doing. So to kill my euriosity I went up to the attie, and there it was just as I had lelt it. 1 c|uickly brushed the dust oft ' and turned the switeh. Yes, my time maebine was still in working eondition. 1 began to turn the dial. Suddenly 1 stopped, tor there was Virginia Anthony busily keeping bouse in Palm Beaeh for her husband, sons, and twin daughters; and Winnie Anthony was surrounded by the fi e ehil- drcn she always said she was going to ha e. As I proceeded to look into the future, I was sur- prised to see before my ery eyes John Cater, Jr., stand- ing before an enormous audience making his presidential inaugural address. And there sitting in the reporter ' section was Ann Elliott taking his speech down in shorthand. Ne. t, I thought I would lea e the United States and see what was happening abroad. To my amazement, there was Winnie Clowe over in Spain. She was now the American ambassador to this country. On my way back home I decided to stop in Wash- ington for a few minutes to see if any of my fellow stu- dents were in power there. 1 wasn ' t too surprised to find James English as aconomic advisor to the President of the United States. My next stop was in the slums of New York where I came across a tall blonde woman who was head of the social workers there. Then I recognized her as Betty Jean Drut. i ot knowing who I would run across next, I turned the dial without looking and of all places for it to stop was at MIT ' s research laboratory where I found Ginny Duxbury. I was feeling very proud of her — then I saw her pick up a broom and start sweeping the floors. 1 hen my little time machine took me back to West Palm Beach. I was bewildered for a short time as it brought me down Dixie Highway to Gardenia Street where it turned right and continued until it reached l- ' alm Beach Junior College. The next thing I knew was that I was in Miss Crozier ' s English class. She had just asked w hat poet had written The Faerie Queene. Then Bob C.rafton raised his hand ant! answered. I decided to roam around the city for a while. The first thing I noticed was a large sign in front of a very modernistic building. It read: B. J. Walden Construction Company. I wondered if Clematis Street had changed, so that was my next stop. I saw Mrs. Marge McGee and Mrs. France s Stambaugh talking to each other. Frances had a blonde curly headed little girl holding her hand, and Marge had three little boys (identical) running madly around her. Marcia Morgan came running up to them and showed them a letter she had iust received from Doris Phillips. Doris was ha ing a family reunion in South Carolina with all four of her husbands and her seven children. Marcia had to hurry off to meet her hus- band as they were planning to spend the week-end at their summer cottage. Marian Lamb came hurrying by. She didn ' t have time to stop as she was going to a Woman ' s Club meet- ing of which she was a committee chairman for a benefit show coming up the next v ' eek. Just about this time Dorothy Legere came dri ing down the street in a long black con ertible. I couldn ' t quite make out who her husband was. A very business-like man came walking by swinging his cane; he was none other than Bob Harris. My time machine stopped next in the city of Lake W orth in front of a modem little house with a white picket fence around it. There sitting on the front porch was Martha Willard reading fain,- tales to a cute round- faced little boy whom she called Bobby. I left this peaceful scene and came back to West Palm Beach where I proceeded to the newspaper ofticc. I entered the editor ' s office and there sitting in back of a desk that was co ered with stacks of typed paper was Jeanne Wheatley busily giving last minute instructions to make-up men before going to press. I then came upon a huge up-to-date laundry. I saw a car stop in front of it, a chauffeur open the back door, and Robert Robertson get out. Then I noticed the name of the establishment. It was Robertson ' s Modem Laundrw As I walked on down the street, I chanced to pass a parked car, from which I heard a radio playing. A soap box opera was just beginning and then I recognized the oices of Faye Johns and Florence Johnson giving out with a singing commercial. That was all I could take so I turned the sw itch off and put the machine back in its resting place in the attic to once more become covered with dust until my curiosity would again get the best of me.
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