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

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 THE WHIRLWIND Senior Prophecy-Continued Alta Dawson, introduced me to one of the successes from my hometown. He was none other than Kenneth Curry, who was making his living as a gigolo. Concluding my business in Reno, I flew to San Francisco in Bill Anderson’s private plane. While standing on the street corner, I saw a twelve-cylinder Packard roll past driven by Pauline Ashton. I learned that she was living on the fat of the land, as she had married Frankie Bolton. At the village intellectual smelter (commonly called the University of Calif- ornia) I met Heze Burkhart. He was in a hurry, for he had an engagement to talk on how he had made his success. I had intended to go to Albany, where I make my home, to rest my nerves and con- template on how my schoolmates were making their successes. I guess, however, I had better make out the check for my alimony and go feed the wolf at the front door, so I’ll be seeing you. THE SENIOR CLASS OF 1932 Motto: The horizon widens as we climb. Colors: Sky blue and white. Flowers: Cecil Brunner roses and sweet peas. 20

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 THE WHIRLWIND C J Senior Prophecy By Seymour Scandle Well, all I know is what I heard at the last sewing circle, but be that as it is, I am now touring the country for Silent Soup, Inc The other day I stopped at Seattle, where I heard Dr. Billie Templeton lecture on the advantages of having a zipper on your appendicitis operation. The talk was good, but he uttered several cutting remarks. On the street in front of my hotel I saw three white-clad figures. They looked so familiar that I threw my cigar butt into the gutter. Just as I expected, one of the men stooped to pick it up, and then I knew that I had found Ed Dooley, an old schoolmate of mine. With him were Jim Arthur, city garbage inspector, and Del Burkhart, first assistant broom pusher. I was greatly touched (seventy-five cents apiece) by these former schoolmates, but I bade them good bye and continued to my hotel. Whom should I meet in the lobby but Pete Whitney and John Conser. They were in the travelling salesman business for themselves, so they said, but they couldn’t stop to talk, because they were in a hurry to buy some lead for their gold bricks. I was at a loss as to what I should do to amuse myself when Virginia Trapp, operator of the hotel, told me that the Duedall brothers were in the vaudeville at the Fox Hollymount. I decided to go; consequently the beginning of the show found me in a seat on the main floor. I enjoyed the vaudeville, but as an added attraction Evelyn Worley sang a selection from the Opera Hollerloudski!” Since I had to travel along, I left the next morning for Portland on a Pacific Grey- hound bus, the driver of which was Joe Tate, an old friend of mine. Learning when in Portland that Mr. and Mrs. Oren Sudtell, the former Charlotte Lamb- erty, were leaving for China, I hurried to the dock to bid them bon voyage. Oren, the lead- ing banker of Portland, asked me to come on board and look over his staterooms. I became so interested that I began a thorough examination of the boat. In the engine room I saw Bill Barrett repairing one of the engines. Just before I left, I met Captain Howard Bever. I decided to see a baseball game that afternoon. Imagine my surprise to see the fleet- footed Perry Long playing shortstop for Portland. Gilbert Faxon managed the team. That evening I met Barbara Beam at the Eatalot cafe. She was overjoyed at having won a prize in a Steamo cigar contest. At the next table I saw Robert Penland, the great radio expert, and his wife, the former Viola Robertson of the 1932 class. The next day I left for Reno, thinking that Rupert’s Restaurant might order some of my goods. When I arrived, I was told that the owner, Baden Rupert, was out at lunch. I therefore, began to look around the town. On one of the largest buildings I saw a sign read- ing L. Misner, Divorce Lawyer. Since this was a chance to get out of the sun, I hurried up to his office. When I stepped into the waiting room ,whom should I see but Sam Bikman and his wife, Esther McKnight Bikman, waiting to get renovated. This pained me so much that I went out to dance away my troubles at the nearest night club. The owner of the club, 19

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Junior Class