Rosalie High School - Bulldog Growl Yearbook (Rosalie, NE)

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I, Ronald Kramer, will and bequeath my desk to anyone who wants it, my dark hair to Patsy Peterson, my ability to get along with the teachers to Charlie Johnson, and my ability to do my best work to Jim Muhle. I, Eddie Novak, will and bequeath my Louie XIV original desk to Larry Richardson so he can be close to the assembly hall teacher, my French book with all the answers in it to Don Blank, my parking place by the school to Jim Muhle so he'll have two spaces to park right, and everything else to my brother Delmar, except my Pink Lady . I, Kathy Krumwiede, will and bequeath my letter-writing ability to Norma Kinning, my Bookkeeping books to Connie Nelson, my height to Paula Bonneau, my brown eyes to Barbara Peterson, my childhood pictures to Mr. Beck, and the rest of my pencils to whoever likes to take them. I, Larry Ahlers, will and bequeath my desk to Jim Barada my football pads to Francis Wood, my ability to get along with the teachers to Jim Muhle (who will need it), and every- thing else but you know who to anyone who wants it. I, Tommy Anderson, will and bequeath my stolen pencils to Patsy, my football outfit to David Franson, my cleverness to Jim Muhle, my persuasive abilities to Janice Canarsky, and almost everything else to whoever wants it. I, Loren Ahlers, will and bequeath to Jim Muhle my foot- ball suit, my desk near the windows (excellent fcr gazing) to Jim Barada, my way to get along with none of the teachers to some nice Junior, my nights, which I spent overtime at school to Elaine Sailors, my high school nights to anyone who thinks they can handle them, and everything in school that I have to anyone who wants it. ROSALIE SENIOR CLASS (1961)

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SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY We have just received our tickets to the 11th annual Symphony of the Flowers, presented each year at Carneige Hall by the class of 61 of Rosalie High School. As we enter we can hear the orchestra warming up. Standing on the podium in his swallow-tail coat, baton waving in the air, is a gentleman we recognize as Mr. D. W. Beck, still leading his little charges as head conductor. On the bull fiddle, directly in front of him is world-famous Hot Fingers Krumwiede. She is snapping out some red-hot Dixie- land jazz. Over to her right is a suave-looking violinist with his eyes peacefully closed as he plays a lilting melody. We are truly sur- prised to recognize him as Claire Johnson. His equally smooth-looking partner, globally known as The White Wizard of the violin world, is playing a well-known flower arrangement Yellow Rose of Texas , in honor of his sweet little 200 lb. Southern Belle whom he just made Mrs. Wes Gunderson. All eyes are now turned to the stage as the ballerinas make their debut. They are pictures of lovliness in their pink leo- tards with pink roses in their hair. They are listed on the pro- gram as Nimble Knees Eddie Novak and Light Foot Larry Ahlers. Next on the program we hear the soft voice of the Queen of Dandelions, Miss Jacquiline Slaughter (she still uses her maiden name). She flits across the stage and collides with her equally famous cousin, Miss Barbara Slaughter, who is the reigning Queen of Thistles. They seem to have gotten their cues mixed up, but are soon rescued and untangled by Ronnie Kramer, who is Producer, Director, Stage Manager, Prop Man, and official flower cutter for this annual spectacular. After a brief intermission the lights are again dimmed and the spotlight focuses on a form in a green satin gown with a pink rosebud tiara. Do our eyes deceive us, or is that Tom Anderson, reciting that beautiful poem, The Trailing Arbutus . How inspi- ring! This beautiful spectacular is fast drawing to a close and as a grand finale, a hush falls over the crowd and two figures come tripping lightly onto the stage. The air is pierced by a clear note coming forth from the throat of Loren the Lark whom I re- member as Buck Ahlers. He is joined by a booming bass coming from tho netite redhead at his side. Yes, there adding her note to the finale is Miss K. K. Klintworth. So, the Flower Symphony for 1972 draws to a close and we leave for home with visions of dancing and soft music floating through our heads. Patsy Peterson