Woodward High School - Boomer Yearbook (Woodward, OK)

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THE BOOMER, 1914 CLASS PROPHECY On a beautiful day in early autum, Sylvette Klein, the stage favorite, sat on her vine covered veranda, enjoying to the utmost, the surrounding peaceful scene. She had been spending her vacation on her Oklahoma ranch and now it was almost time for her to return to the city where she was eagerly awaited by the devotees of the footlights. As she thus sat there, her thoughts reverted to the scene of her school days, for in the neighboring city of Woodward, she had attended High School and so this place was very dear to her as it recalled so many scenes of joy and hope before her ambition had been realized. Because of these associations she had decided to spend her vacation on her ranch and forget for awhile, the difficulties and even the satisfaction of a successful career. But while she mused on things past, she was interrupted by the purr of an aero-car, and, looking up, she beheld two familiar faces. As the car alighted who should step out but her old schoolmates, James Young and his wife, Gladys, reminders of the far away High School days. Ethyle—for this was her real name—delightedly led her guests within the house where explanations, questions and reminiscences were indulged in until dinner was announced. During the conversation it was made known that James had become the proprietor of the Del Plaza Hotel at Panama City. He had become quite successful in the hotel business, having risen from the rank of waiter to that of owner of the largest hotel in the canal district. The question finally arose concerning the other members of the class of 1914 of W. H. S. Said James, “Of course you all remember Harold, he with the motto, “Silence is Golden,” which he never followed. He was with us last year in Panama gathering data for his latest problem novel, “The Ninth Sense.” “More likely to be ‘nonsense’ than ‘ninth’ sense,” interrupted Ethyle, “but I thought that I read of his losing his eyesight after he had solved the problem of the high cost of living.” “Yes, that is true,” said James, “and now they have taken a villa down in the Andes in the American colony where he is resting, and Jennie—you remember he married Jennie Irwin—is wearing herself out waiting upon him and preparing his last book for the publishers.” “They always were devoted, even at school,” replied Gladys. “Now let me read you some clippings that I have collected while traveling during theatrical seasons,” said Ethyle. “Here is one about Mary. You recollect that she never could become interested in the classics and always went in for athletics. Listen: ‘Paris, Feb. 8.—Mile. Maria White, the American “Queen of the Arena,” has just signed with M. Krausnark to appear for the coming season in his ‘Hippodrome,” at the largest salary ever paid to a woman performer.’ ” “Oh, I saw her perform last winter,” exclaimed Gladys, “she’s wonderful.” “Of course you haven’t forgotten Earl,” resumed Ethyle, “but did you know he was in this country?” ‘New York, June 30.—A recent arrival on the “Wizzly Wu Air Line,” was Dr. Earl Griffis, of Heidelberg University. Dr. Griffis has recently distinguished himself by his discovery of the fourth dimension and his visit is antcipated with great interest, as he will lecture at all the leading universities while on this trip.’ “Isn’t that a strange paragraph to be reading about our old blass beau ?

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THE BOOMER, 1914 CLASS POEM There comes to us many recollections. As we meditate o’re and o’re, On things that are only reflections, Of things that will come no more. We see a touch of sadness In even the sun’s bright rays. When we think of leaving High School In only a few more days. We think of the years of pleasure That now are nearing their close. And a sort of longing comes o’re us. Which only the student knows. Once more we are verdant Freshmen. Happy Sophomores or Juniors gay. But we’ll never feel like Seniors Even on Commencement day. But, plain is the truth before us, And truly our parting is nigh. Yet, we’ll ever think of our High School As the years go rolling by. James Young ’14.

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THE BOOMER, 1014 T wonder why he never married when he was always so popular with the girls?” said Gladys.” “Well, you remember he was disappointed in love years ago and had since given himself wholly to his work,” replied Ethyle. “By the way, wasn’t Elsie Gwynn Earl’s private secretary for several years?” asked James. “Why yes,” answered Ethyle, “but when I met her in Boston two years ago she told me she had decided that woman’s sphere was in the home and not in a musty old university, so she intended to give up her work just as she had attained success, and marry a widower who greatly needlv a mother’s care for his six children. “How foolish of her—but can you tell us what has become of Lena,” asked Cladys. “Yes, indeed,” exclaimed Ethyle,” “I must tell you about her. Last winter, while playing in San Francisco, I attended court several days purposely to see her. You remember how sympathetic Lena was, well, it seems she became a trained nurse and about four years ago she was acting as a special nurse to an old Spanish Grandee and the very day before he died they were married. He had great wealth and his relatives have been fighting for his fortune ever since his death. It really belongs to Lena and I think she will win. Oh, I forgot to say that her lawyers are Hayes Hayes, Jennie and Faye, you know.” “Yes, I believe I have heard of their being admitted to the bar,” said James. “Yes, they have risen in the profession and now have a large clientele,” said Ethyle. “What has become of Kleber,” asked Gladys. “Why,” replied Ethyle, “I had a letter from him recently in which he told of accepting an offer of the presidency of the University of Alaska. He also said he had persuaded Marie —you remember her as our class artist—to lecture at the university this winter. She is in great demand it seems as an art lecturer.” “I thought she married a count,” said Gladys. “She did marry Count Polunski, but, while playing aero-polo, he was killed and Marie has sought to forget her grief in her art.” I must say those girls haven’t had much luck—just listen to this: “New Orleans, June 10.—The ‘Gerlach Foundation’ was destroyed by fire early this morning, leaving 467 orphans homeless. Cause of fire thought to be spontaneous combustion in the attic. Great heroism was shown by the founder, Miss Louise Gerlach, who succeeded in saving the lives of all the inmates,” read Ethyle. “O my, what a shame. She took such pride in her asylum. It was such a comfort to her after her unfortunate matrimonial venture,” said Gladys. “I met Howard,” said Ethyle,” at the Durbar last year in India. He and Rosa have been doing missionary work there for years. Howard said he had accomplished wonders. Had lifted those natives out of the slough of despond in to civilization. He has now gone to IJaza, that inland city, that is just being opened to white people. He and Rosa intend to organize a Salvation Army there. Howard says that will uplift the heathen as nothing else can. “O here comes Pearl,” exclaimed Ethyle, “I suppose she wants to borrow some chicken feed. She comes over every few days to borrow something for her chickens. She has the largest chicken farm in the state and is getting rich.” “Has she a husband?” asked Gladys. “O yes,” murmured Ethyle, “but he does nothing but the housework. Sh! Here she is.”