Allen County High School - Patriot Yearbook (Scottsville, KY)

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was agreed upon and the plan adopted. The play Song of My Heart was selected and we gave it Friday night, April 12. This year, our last school year in Scottsville High, we realize just how much our school has meant to us. Until this year we went to school because that was proper: now we realize we go because we love our school, our teachers, and our classmates. Even now, as Seniors, it is difhclut to realize we have reached that inevitable turning point, that parting of the way, so to speak. VVe are con- scious of the fact that our paths down through life, instead of being all for one and one for all, will run differently. They will cross perhaps. some may run parallel, these things we do not know. But one thing we trust-that each one of our class shall always cherish the association these four years have afforded us, and that as life unfolds, we will be able to look back to the faithfulness and good influence of our teachers, as a foundation upon which to build our career. In the building of this foundation we owe a great deal to our class sponsor, Mr. Jones, No class ever had a better sponsor and certainly 110 one could have been more cooperative and sympa- thetic, nor lnore eager to help ns untangle the knotty problems with which we occasionally became confused. lf our Senior year has not equipped us for further study, it will have been our fault, not his, for his loyalty to us has been 10096, and we appreciate it. To all thc classes that are to follow us we leave our wishes for aood luck, but to you Juniors to whom we owe a great deal, we hand an obligation: to uphold the tradition of the Scottsville Senior Class. And. knowing you as we do, we trust you to carry the ban- ner on to even greater heights. And to you, our dear teachers, one and all, mere words cannot express our gratitude for your patience and sincere interest in us. You have been kind, understanding, loyal. In our hearts you oc- cupy a very special place which no one else can till. We feel we owe a very definite debt of gratitude to our be- loved superintendent, Mr. Chaney, who has during the two years he has been with us, shielded us from trouble, been understanding, made our problems his problems, our sorrows his concern, directed our efforts, and in every respect exerted every effort to inspire us to higher levels. To have known him makes us the lucky class. You, Mr. Chaney, have shown your faith in us, and we now pledge our best never to be a disappointment to you.

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Class Histor By Sarah Gene Mayhew Getting rtady tor High School is a marvelous experience to anyone, and to reach the eighth grade is a grand and glorious feel' ing. VVell, when we reached the eighth grade a most surprising thing' happeuedfwe were moved to the High School building with the rest of the big-shots. To he in the High School building we thought n as next to perfect. However, when we got down here, we were still just eighth graders. The so-called big-shots didn't bother us much that year: in fact, they rather looked over and beyond us. Hut the next year we were, in reality, treated as green Freshmen. ft-r tl at we were. The sophs seemed to feel they were doing only their duty in tormenting tis by calling us t'green: however, with Mr. Cliburn as our sponsor, we weathe1'ed the storm. made our class party a success and became the intelligentsia of the school, the Sopho- moies. We vowed we would never so much as call a Freshman green tremeinhering how we felt about itj but it wasn't long until we decided that we could tease them somewhat, for after all. we were the bright Sophomores, and they were really green. so why not? Une outstanding feature of our Sopliomore year was a Howliuzx Green theatre pa1'ty sponsored by Mrs. Dixon. The next year, our Junior year, we tinally realized we had something to do besides have a good time. We were to mix hard work with play, and to our great surprise this mixture turned out very nicely. Mrs. Newni-an and Mrs. Bryant were really our life sav- ers in getting us over the rough places. This was the year of real excitenieiit because it was our privilege to entertain the Seniors We wanted to have something quite unique, so we finally decided to take them on a boat excursion at Gallatin, Tennessee. This prov- ed to be a very pleasant trip for both classes. Of course, we had more fun than the Seniorsg you know the Juniors can act naturally while the Seniors have to be rather dignified. Then Came the thought of our Junior play. Finally it was sug- gested that the Junior and the Senior classes give one together. Since both classes were small, we thought that a grand idea. so it

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Class Prophecy By Odicea Spears XVhen the Class of 1941 made its arrangements for the coming Commenceinent, it fell to my lot to assume the role of the prophet. Being not especially endo1'sed with the gifts that make a seer, I first attempted to decline, but my classmates being so insistent that I promised to do the best I could, hoping that some kind of fairy would help me out of trouble. I have never seen the fairy. Still, I have had some visions and I am going to picture to you what I beheld. It was 'during the end of 1950 when I came to St. Louis. Goin: down Broadway, I was attracted by a magnificent poster, announc- ing that Gene Porter Taylor, the world famous trombone soloist would give a concert i11 the Academy of Music. Across the river in East St. Louis, Ray Walker was practicing medicine and surgery. I wished to make some inquiries about some former members of the the class, but Dr. Walker was too busy to see or give me much in- formation. After leaving the doctor's luxurious oflices, I was greeted by a well dressed lady. How do you do? she said to me, I looked at l1er somewhat puzzled. Don't you know your old school friends? she queried. I a1n Gladys Atwood and teacher in history in the St. Louis Normal School. Gladys seemed to know more than any other person I had met. She told me tl1at Leona Guy had mar- ried and was living in Philadelphia. That Dorothy Dodson had started a correspondence school which she later changed into a matrimonial agency. I also heard that .limmie Jones had become President of the First National Bank at Springfield, Illinois. Toward the beginning of 1951, business brought me to Louis- ville, Kentucky. Taking a stroll through the streets of the city, I was attracted by a masculine voice, trying to render a song. The voice was neither beautiful nor sweety it was harsh, and the melody lacked beauty. But the words were grand. I heard them when I at- tended school at Scottsville, Kentucky. One of the students, Frank Pitchford, that boy who was always funny and sometimes mis- chievous: used to sing them when others would study their lessons. He1'e is the song I heard.