Albany Union High School - Whirlwind Yearbook (Albany, OR)

Page 31 text:

Brandeberry Palmer Braden Rhodes Cline CLASS OF '29 Our Present You Know Our Past Our Future We, the Junior Class, have completed three successful years, and at the close of another, we hope to have made a school record which will never he sur- passed. To a great extent, our success has been the result of the adequate leader- ship of our class officers and the counsel of our class adviser. At present our class roll consists of more than one hundred members whose mutual helpfulness has been the outstanding feature of our suc- cessful years. After more years of toil and study, ac expect to he at the head of a long ist of great statesmen and leaders of he nation. We are indeed striving in every way :o become men and women of whom :he world may he justly proud. We predict that many of us will he eminent in law, music and many other profes- ;ions. May our names be known favor- ably in every section of our country! Twenty-seven

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n RcDcnius Nelson Chambers Clem Smith Cade Gildow Dittmer Rex Ferguson Hauswirth McClain Bray Roberts Crawford Metzger Thompson Hulshoff Hamilton Meyer Oxely Bilyeu LaRowe Simon Senior B THIS class entered Albany High School in February, 1925. They will finish their courses in February, 1929, but they will not be graduated until June. Though there are only twenty-one in the class, they have been represented in all the high school activities, such as football, basketball, baseball, track and tennis teams, as well as debate teams, Dramat Club and Glee Club. This active class of twenty-nine will complete their high school work with honors. T •wrnty-six

Page 32 text:

 If— If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, Hut make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t gave way to hating, And vet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at vour beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the will which says to them: “Hold on!” If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can make your grades When all about you are flunking, Yours is the school and everything that’s in it, And—which is more—you’ll be a SENIOR, my son With Apologies to Kipling