Arvada High School - Redskin Yearbook (Arvada, CO)

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Class Prophecy Listen, my children, and you shall hear The future of the class of '23, •Which I saw in a dream, so very clear That even the blind could not fail to see. First, Winifred Aker in a jungle land Hunting and searching a lion band. Gladys Anderson, a sweet little blonde, Of cats and dogs was very fond. Eleanor Barnum, tall and slim, Posing before a radio-film. Margaret Black I saw was roaming Along the sea, forever moaning. Kenneth Burgess, down in Tennessee Planting corn and busy as a bee. Clifford Chinn is a vampire yet, Gets the girls he wants, you bet. Mildred Christian, a great man’s wife, Never needs to touch the carving knife. Torrence Corbin, an orator of late. Forever and ever, he’ll always be great. A sweet little maid still is Esther Desch, Her beauty will many men enmesh. Carl Eastman, a lawyer of renown. Nevermore dwelling in a town. Little James Eddy is now grown up And in athletics wins many a cup. Dorothy Grable, shy and reserved. In many mansions shall be served. Helen Gurney was a widow so sweet, A better vamp you’ll never meet. Gertrude Hampton, a suffragette, Forever downing the cigarette. Then Carl Hays, a miner, steady. Where gold’s concerned he’s always ready. Anne Jones is this very poor dreamer, And you’ll admit she’s a screamer. Oscar Levine in the President’s Chair Declares that the “nation is a care.’’ Lloyd Meyer dwells in Mexico City, A dealer of the Persian kitty. Carrie Moon in the sunshine day by day, Plants her flowers in the month of May. Frances Moon, a seamstress great, Frances, Frances, oh what a fate! Marie Nagel a stenographer w?as And a big weekly check has. Marian Newton, a dancer renowned, With Glenn Jackson was often found. A maiden rare was Chandos Reid. Distinguished was she by word and deed. Sarah Reeves in a country school house sat. Occasionally bestowing a kindly pat. Thelma Reeves, so gentle and sweet, Who as a chemist cannot be beat. Rose Russell’s beauty became far famed, And for many a suicide was she blamed. Fantella Shelledy to Florida went And like a gypsy, lived in a tent. Marie Williams, a sweet daring lass. Always was seen at the head of a mass. Frank Shepherd was a great minister And his teachings were always sinister. Thelma Strickland, a journalist, Of every joke still “gits the gist.” Isabella Sherer was a millionaire So always very well did fare. Edward Trout, a man so flirtatious. Yet in business matters is sagacious. Stella West has the world at her feet, For you know that in singing, she can’t be beat. William West, a man managed by fate. But don’t you fret, he has yet to be great. Eben Young in a bank shall preside, Has now a wife and children beside. All this in my dream did I see. So if it is false, please don’t blame me. ANNE JONES. Page Eighteen

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were: Gertrude Hampton, who came from the mining town of Nederland, Colorado; Edward Trout, an adventurous youth from Neosho Falls, Kansas, who came west to seek his fortune and many acres; Carl Eastman, an artist with the drum-sticks and the accessories; Frank Shepherd, a pious athlete from Agate, Colorado. In the eighth year the class gained another new member, Clifford Chinn, a boy of pugnacious tendencies from Pyramid, Colorado. The class graduated from grammar school thinking of the easy times to be enjoyed as frosh in high school. We were, however, greatly surprised to find out that the Seniors and Juniors were not as overjoyed to see us as we had expected, nor was any big brothers’ or sisters’ aid shown to us by the upper classmen; instead, the Sophomores did their duty by performing the ceremony of initiation, which was a rather rough one. We soon learned that the other classes and teachers were not as infatuated with us as we were with ourselves. In thi9 year the class gained 17 new members. From the Fruitdale school we gained 2 members: Oscar Levine, known as the founder of student government, which has caused much woe for the wrong doer in A. H. S., and Eben Young, the eloquent chemist. From the Denver schools the members were: Isabel Sherer, who decided that A. H. S. was the best educational institution west of the city of Denver; Helen Gurney, one of the vivacious blondes of the class; Thelma Strickland, our valedictorian. The members from the Fremont school were: James Eddy, a small boy nicknamed “Jimmie”; Eleanor Barnum, known for her beauty and popularity; Henry Williams, who is Arvada’s illustrious yell-leader. The Reeve sisters, Sarah and Thelma, came to us from Wilkinson, Indiana, the good old Hoosier state. Kenneth Burgess, a lad with oratorical inclinations, came from the Lothrope School. William West, joined our ranks from the Ralston School, a husky young rarmer. Roy Mitchell, from Brighton, Colorado, is the boy with the best all-round avoirdupois. Marie Nagel, from Berkeley Gardens School, is a very studious girl. Carrie and Frances Moon, from the Ralston School, are a couple of very capable farmerettes. Gladys Anderson, from Denver View School, is known among her classmates as “Cutie.” In the Sophomore year no new members were taken in; but a large decrease in the class of 65 that started in the previous year as Freshmen was evident. In the Junior year the class gained five new members; Marie Williams from South Denver with her frank smile and ways. Lloyd Meyer from Silverton, Colorado, who decided that a mining town was no place for a boy with lofty ideals of education. Torrence Corbin, came from El Paso, because he decided that Texas was too hot for him, and that it was a privilege to live in Colorado. Winifred Aker, from Lovell, Wyoming, the land of wind and blizzards. Vera Reinhard, from North Denver, another student recruited to the great educational system of A. H. S. In the last, or Senior year, as we neared our cherished goal, that of graduation, we gained one more new' member, Fantella Shelledy, from Bingham, Nebraska, a girl so shy, but oh! so sweet. I have told you of these twelve marvelous years just passed; but now comes the saddest part of all. This brilliant class which has shed glory, honor, and lustre upon the old school is about to pass from its portals out into the wide, wide world. And as for the history of the Class of ’23 it is like a piece of art finished by a sculptor, all that it needs now is to stand the test of the world. May history repeat itself in brilliancy and may it be granted that success shall shine in the footsteps of every member of this class. May it be granted that we never shall feel the sorrows or pangs of defeat in our positions in life. And as we journey toward the end may we look back upon a life that has been filled with prosperity and happiness. CARL HAYS. Page Seventeen

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Views of a 5 nior on tt)e Ifest of tt)e 5d)ool My word, what a stupid lot these Junior High kids are! They always go ’round telling people they’re “high school kids” and trying to act like Seniors. Ain’t it the mosquito’s powder-puff the way they do? We Seniors never go tearing down the street that way. And the way those Junior boys fall for the line the Freshman girls hand out —goodnight, it’s sure awful. Miss Whitehill, the “general,” said she thinks it’s dreadfully rude when some of those little insignificant things hit her on the neck with a wet towel, too, so she does. We Seniors sure pity the school when we go away and leave the Juniors boss. They’re bad enough now, let alone when they get as important as we are. Of course, they’ll have some pretty good looking Senior girls to take our honored places, but—. Somebody just now said that the Sophomores weren’t very peppy, but that was before they had their famous Sophomore week and had everybody in school nearly crazy from seeing so much of them. But they can sure act silly in study hall, as for instance, when Johnny and Mamie go to use the dictionary. Henry Williams tell us, too, that he thinks there are some exceptionally wonderful people in the class,—boys, of course. If you see somebody that’s as supercilious as a Senior, as wild as a Junior, as stupid as a Sophomore, and with more nerve than a brass monkey, it must be a Freshman. We Seniors don't have much to do with them, because they insist on trying to be as important as we are, and you know what a wretched failure that would be. As to the Junior High School, maybe it would be better to let them say what they want to about us before we begin, so we’ll know just how much we can say about them with perfect dignity and propriety. One thing that bothers us terribly, though, is to have a couple of seventh grade boys with Terpsichorean tendencies and elephantine propensities slipping and jumping around under one’s feet when one is dancing with somebody that’s awfully nice. But aside from that, they are a pretty good bunch for their very small size. After we’re gone, though, we’d like to see seven or eight generations of Seniors as nice and modest and dear as we have always been. We think they have a fairly good chance so far. THELMA STRICKLAND. Page Nineteen