Auburn High School - Follies Yearbook (Auburn, IN)

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The Shield 1916 Auburn, Indiana | was so excited that | could seareely keep my seat. To see three old class mates after tnirty years and find them all so changed. Where could I have been all these years? But hush he was speak- ing. He was taking the people back, back to the days when he went to school in Auburn. He was telling them of his class mates, of their various successes and their failures. I can’t begin to tell you all of what he said or how he said it. The people were attentive from the first. Not a sound disturbed him. The great orator in the west was speaking. As | listened I gathered faets. I learned how Chas. Thornburg had branched out until now he was the greatest evangelist living. How he had taken the reins from the hands of Billie Sunday and now with the power of his ton- gue and magnetic personality was bringing thousands of people to the sacred altar each year. Ably assisted by his wonderful chorister, Robt. J. Brown, who, by the appealing sweetness of nis voice had touched the hearts of nearly as many as his chief, they were do- ing a wonderful work. | [ learned of Lucile Shugars, now an enthusiastic Y. W. ©. A. worker. And why not? Was not her husband, Bernard Cleaver, the Superintendent of Auburn’s Y. M. C, A.? And Van Showers, the basket ball saark no more will shoot the pigskin sphere through the iron hoops, for he has grown far too corpulent for such exercise. Showers discovered an electrical mag- net in his laboratory that when applied to the earth would lift metals from their resting place. He took it out one night and turned it loose, and when he brought it home it was burdened by a picket fenee, a keg of nails, a gold watch, and a Lincoln penny. Several such pilgrimages enabled him to start a junk shop where he has prospered exceedingly. Eugenia Berry had joined the American Red Cross Society as a nurse, and left for Kurope, where she was decorated with various honors, for her services. After the war she returned to this country and is now at the head of a great school for nurses. Lilian Kratzer is a great musician now in the service of the Rogers Music Company. Here she receives three thousand a perform- ance and has her Saturday afternoons off. Of course the Rogers Musie Company is none other than that of our old class mate, Basil Rogers. It appears that he worked for Thomas A. Edison for a long while and wnen the latter died he deeded his shop and fortunes to our worthy classmate. Don M. Lochner is now the owner of the Chicago Herald, and has extended it farther than any paper has ever gone. He has worked hard and won out against the obstacles until now he controls the oreatest newspaper in America. Of course he married Ruth Chaney, almost immediately after leaving school. Harry Altenburg had risen from a dry goods clerk to the owner- ship of the great tailoring concern on the banks of Cedar River. By this time I was drinking in every word. My mind was in- tensely active. (How these people changed so?) The orator went on. Marion Thrush was the greatest advocate of woman’s suffrage since the time of Mary Baxter. She nad toured this country and a part of Kurope in the cause. Irene Swarts had declared men were of no use whatsoever and has proven herself capable of doing without them. She now holds the position of head saleslady in Marshall Field’s big store in Chicago.

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The Shield 1916 Auburn, Indiana Senior Class Prophecy ‘By John W. McIntyre’ ANY years after the graduation class of 1916 the night was at SPA ian when another class in their caps and gowns were seated upon the platform of honor. I had just arrived in Auburn after an absence of many years. Everything had changed, new people, new buildings, new everything. I felt like poor old Rip Van Winkle must pave when he awoke from his twenty year sleep. True there were a few old land marks left. The court house was still standing as was the city hall, and, too, | noticed the lamp posts which Mayor Mc- Clellan had had such a time getting installed, were also still standing. That evening | felt lost and ag the last resource I asked the clerk of the hotel where | mignat find some diversion. That individual in- formed me that everyone was attending the graduation exercises in the large auditorium of the high school. Naturally this did: not ap- peal to me, so | grunted and walked over to a convenient window seat. An hour passed and finally I decided te go and make the best of the situation. I started out but soon found myself lost in a hopeless tangle of streets and houses. I was sure there used to be a school building standing here; but none could be found, so | retraced my steps to the hotel, and again sought the advice of the clerk. I found the school had moved and was now standing in a more central par of the city. Without any trouble this second time I found it and walked in. I took a seat and looked around. | knew no one, and as | gazed over the large crowd of graduates, for the Auburn schools had increased considerably, | was surprised and astonished. I looked again and then my thoughts went back. A feeling of homesickness spread over me. As | gazed at the class there assembled I thought of the ngat when iny class had sat on a similar platform. I thought of the kind words spoken by the speaker. I could even now see Prot. Blossom handing out the diploma to each member. I recalled the smile of pride spread- ing over eaca mother’s face as she saw her boy or girl receiving the cherished prize. Ah! those were the happy years—but I stopped, the people were rising about me. In a moment | knew, and I too arose in response to the pastor’s request, as he blest the class there assembled. When he finished, as I turned to readjust my coat, on the back of the seat I heard a woman whisper, ‘‘I think the Rev. Wimer is just fine.’’ Immediately | was all attention, and I grabbed a pro- gram and Lo, there it was in black and white. ‘‘The Rev. Howard D. Wimer, of the First M. E. church.’’ ‘‘Impossible,’’ I thought, ‘‘not Ilod Wimer?’’ But true enougn, for he came down into the audience, and as he passed my seat I could plainly see his face. Yes, it was Hod, but a much older Hod. Thoroughly interested now I looked again at the class. Where was Prof. Blossom? No where was he visible and | locked at the seat opposite the one occupied by the speaker of the evening and was surprised to note that it was filled by a woman. Of course | thought taere was some mistake, and | consulted my program again. | was amazed to read the name of Lucile Buchtel, Superintendent of the Auburn Public Schools. A hush fell on the assemblage, the President was mtroducing the speaker of the evening, Prof. Wayne Clark, Ph. D. By this time

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The Shield 1916 Auburn, Indiana Cleota Carmer, well of course she just couldn’t stay single and had married early after high school days, and although | missed just what the speaker said I believe he said—five children. Berniece Lawhead had turned out a splendid coach in basket ball and had followed this profession for many years. Lately she has written a book upon it. and is now living easily on the inco me from it’s sale. Hazel Nugen decided to be a writer and prepared herself thor- oughly for work along that line; but alas, only one volume had fallen from her pen when the only man claimed her, and her career was forgotten. Argyl Houser had grasped the mantle from the shoulders of James Whitcomb Riley, upon that individual’s death, and now the Ivries turned out by him are of a style whien the other could never have attained. Hilda Metealf returned to the farm after school; but not to stay, and soon a ship was bearing her over the seas to Africa, where she worked with great success as a missionary among the natives. Helen Baxter was a Prima Donna, famous all over tne country. Some time after she had left high scaool she had discovered that she could sing and now her voice ean be heard in many of the grand opera seleetions. Floyd Batdorf went back to the farm, because he claimed more money could be made there than in any other way. And it must be true for they say now he owns two-thirds of DeKalb county. Mamie Noirot was a great lecturer, diplomat, and suffragist. She ran for president of tae U.S. once, but owing to a split in the party she lost out. By this time I was so interested that | had almost forgotten where I was. It was like a great masterpiece unfolded before me, to hear of these old class mates. Word by word I had followed the lecturer along, when suddenly— John McIntyre is a,—but I waited no longer. With my overcoat in one hand and my hat in the other I started up tne aisle. I passed the seat of Rev. Wimer and as he gazed up at my face my heart jumped. Would he recognize me? But he turned his head away without a smile and I hurriedly left the place.