Barret Manual Training High School - Revue Yearbook (Henderson, KY)

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, On June 1, 1932, I lay in the Henderson Hospital awaiting the Nurse's call that would send me to the operating table. The operation, though a minor one, was quite delicate because of the proximity of the incision to my brain. krlends, however, had advised me to have no fear of any injury to that organ. as 1 seemed to be getting along fairly well without it already. Accordingly, it was without the least trace of fear and trepidation that I breathed in the nauseating ether and watcned the firmament real dazzlingly before my closed eyes. Slowly the comos ceased its mad, careenlng dance around the c.nema of my optical orbs and for a brief interval of time all was blank. I awoke with the unpleasant sensation of being hurtled through space at a tremendous velocity. When I regained my fllll consciousness 1 discovered that this sensation was not entirely a delusion as I was riding among the clouds in some sort of airplane minus the wings and propeller and other items customary if not essential to airplanes. To say that I was surprised at this rather unusual way to recover from the effects of an anesthetic would be to express it mildly indeed, but my surprise did not reach its epitome until after I had strug- gled to arise and fallen back exhausted into the arms of two long bearded gentlemen whom I recognized in spite or tne whiskers and strange clothing as Hugh London and Arnold King, whom I distinctly re- membered the day before my operation to have been as beardless as they were unversed in the theory of aeronautics. Now, to one less familiar with the more lurid and fanciful literature of the present age, these extra- ordinary events would probably have presented an unsolvable enigma as to causes and effects. I. however. being an enthusiastic if dilletante peruser of the less classical journals, and recalling divers imaginative tales of similar happenings, immediately deducted that I had either been projected into the future or had suffered an amnesia following my operation. Considering these facts, I at once perceived the latter to be the more likely. What could be more natural? The more I pondered over the probable sequence of events the more reasonable it seemed: tne incision near the base of my brain, a slip of the knife, an unknown period of time during which the cut brain tissues grow back into place, a total loss of memory until at last the rebuilding of broken tissues is completed. My conviction rose to a certainty as I noticed again the bearded visages of my erstwhile fellowvclassmates and heard them conversing in a jargon which seemed to be a mixture of Russian and English. Of course I began firing away at them the hundreds of questions that popped into my mind but I failed entirely to get any response save an occasional sad shaking of the head by one or the other. In the next half-hour I gleaned from their actions toward me and from the occasional words of English that 1 could pick up from their conversation, that Hugh and Arnold believed me to be insane and that we were en route to a samtarium! This would never do. I resolved at once to escape, as argument seemed impossible under the conditions. A glance out the window, however, showed that escape at present would entail a precipitous drop of several thousand feet. so I decided to postpone action in that line rather in- definitely. ,L After a few minutes the airplane, if airplane it was, came to almost a complete stop over a large field. upon which in huge letters the word Washingtongrad was written, and gradually settled down landing on one edge of the field. Now was my chance. I leaped out of the window and dashed wildly towa.rd a row of buildings and down an almost deserted street. Rounding a corner at a high speed I ran heading into three bearded strangers. My capacity to be astonished had become somewhat strained of late but I was, to say the least, mildly surprised to recognize these grim individuals as Robert Ball, Charles Brooks and Howard Hutcheson. By dint of much ingenuity I at last succeeded in explaining my situation to these slightly incredulous fellows and finally persuaded them to explain a few things to me. It seems that I had been in a state of semi-consciousness for twelve years and that during that time a number of drastic changes had taken place in the world's history. I shall give here a brief summary of the events as they were related to me. Early in 1934 the Russian army, carrying with them a new and previously undreamed-of weapon, marched through Asia conquering all before it. The U. S. and most of the European countries then de- clared war on Russia, but after a struggle lasting three years Russia succeeded in conquering the whole world and setting up a socialistic government with the world capital at Washingtongrad, formerly Wash- ington, D. C. since then the centralization of government had been completed and the Emperor residing in Washingtongrad, with improved methods of transportation and communication, has absolute control over all parts of the world. After relating to me a proceeding about which than a state senator. The truth of this when upon which bore the following this interesting history, my friends insisted on taking me to see the Emperor, I was slightly uneasy, having never met before any more important personage Emperor, they assured me, however was quite democratic, and I discovered the Boing to the third floor of an ordinary skyscraper we came to his office door inscription: Comrade W. H. ComptonskifEmperor-Walk In. Nil

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Will CContinuedj We, Dorothy Gentry and La Verne Rettig, will our bold manners and go'getting ways to Harvey McClellan and Malcolm Stanley. I, E'Lois Geibel, will my megaphone voice and flippy ways to Anne Worsham. 1, Frances Gish, will my chronic sneeze to Babbette Levy. I, Frances Hopkins, will my fondness for cosmetics to Thelma Majors. We, Linda Mae Jones and ,lane Kasey, will our appreciation for boys and love of flattery to Dorothy Helm and Margaret Baskett. I, Bonnie Jones, unexcelled by anyone in our class, will this standing to Katherine Christ. I, Marilou Killman, will my sugar daddy and his excuses for my staying out of school to Marthella Gresham. I, Josephine Katterjohn, will my love for everybody and their brother fespecially their brother, to Jane Morton. I, Chas. Mitchell, will my curly locks and all that go with them to Milicient Quinn. I, Benjamin O'Nan, have nothing to leave, as I am taking Ruth Ashby with me. I, Iack Watson, leave my ability to coach Douglas High to Billie Oglesby. I, Francis Smith, will my ability to forget my bashfulness overnight to Harry Basan. I, Nellie Alexander, will my musical talent to Dorothy Buckles. I, Maurice Denton, will my ability to Hnd the roughest country roads to Oscar Martin. I, Agnew Galloway, will the honor of being the Prettiest boy in B. M. T. H. S. to Chas. Hall. I, James Heizer, with great loathing, leave my darling jane to my brother Houston in order to keep her in the family. I, Howard Hutcheson, will willowy curves to Happy Hooker. I, Billie Norment, will my acrobatic stunts and fondness for the female sex, especially blonds, to Elmo Dossett. A I, Edgar Lacy, leave my love for finding mistakes on other people's papers to Dick Alves. I, Dorothy Pearce, leave my need for doctors to my most bitter rival Alma Startup. I, Hugh London, will my ability to distract Miss Dorsey's attention in French class to John Craig. I, Tony Perrier, leave my disarming game and forward ways to Chip Stanley. I, Walter E. Quinn, will my famous lecture on If One Little Guinea Pig Loveth Another Little Guinea Pig to Ralph Klutey. I, Wilbert Weldon, will my historic ability to Izzy O'Nan. I, Nell Mahler, leave my ability as a f1tfin for any occasion to Bailey Cox. I, Elizabeth Paff, leave my love for certain kind of trees to Katheleen Henning. I, Margaret Jordan, leave my hopes to look like Kay Francis to Julia Konsler. I, Henry Brink, will my dark and shady past and present to Clifford Clay. I, Stanley Burton, will my ability as a basketball player not to mention my good looks to William Southard. I, Kenneth Cooper, will my art of Skipping and getting by with it to Jack Rudy. I, C. R. Tanner, leave my mity strength and many gals to Tubby Davis. I, Bob Pfeiffer, leave my Hckleness as far as the opposite sex is concerned to my darling brother, Frank. - . I, Jack Seidel, will my enviable place on the football team to Rockwell Smith. I, Gordon Critser, will my place on the allfA honor roll to james Connoway. I, Arnold King, leave my ambition to be a rival to Wayne King, to John Strother. I, Curtis Miller, will my love of country school teachers to Wilms Kiefer. I, Roy Winstead, will my honored position as water boy for the football team to Shelburn Hicks. We, Clarence Weltee and Wilbert Schoeflin, leave our books on How to Make Love to Frank Matthews and Snooky Stephon. I, Dorothy L. Smith, will my middle initial, which I cherish so highly, to Dorothy E. Smith. I, Helen Williams, leave my tall and stately manner to Avanelle Freeland. I, George Cooksey, will my desire to be a second Rudy Vallee to Paul Witt. I, Mary Edith Woodburn, will my perfect finger waved hair to Miriam Wilson. I, Dorothy Sugg, will my charming voice to Mary Louise Philips. I, Vayden Moore, will my chronic illness that keeps me away from school three days a week to George jones. I, Mildred Helsley, will my heartfelt sympathy for the one who has to write the will of the class of Thirtyfthree. -MILDRED HELSLEY. Q . . 'IQQQEQ- ,I ala? ' f24l . 4., -'

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Prophecy fContinuedD We obeyed the sign and there just as I suspected on a glittering throne, with a beard of record length and sour expression on his face, characteristic of world-emperors, sat Billy Compton. His expres- sion changed to one of pleasure when he recognized me, but that his joy at seeing me again was only indirect I could tell from his first words. How about that malted milk ? he inquired, and I recalled simultaneously a twelve-year-old het of one malted milk as to his prospects of becoming emperor of the world. I reluctantly handed over the fifteen cents, which the Emperor pocketed greedily. This seemed to put him in a better humor and, after nearing my story, he genially offered to let some of his aides-de-camp take me around to see all of our old classmates. Suiting his action to his word he clapped his hands for an orderly, whom I recognized in spite of the bushy red whiskers as Cyrus Allen, and bane him summon the general. Comrade Allen withdrew and at length reappear-ed announcing ceremoniously the entry of the Commander-in-Chief of the Soviet Army. This austere individual marched in and saluted the Emperor and I noticed the first beardless face I had seen since my awakening. Imagine my surprise when it was turned toward me and I found myself staring into the blue eyes of Sara Virginia Rash, It all seemed very strange to me then, but I afterwards learned that the standing army was composed mostly of women, the men having more important things to do, and that in certain quarters it was rumo1'ed that Comrade Rash was the real power behind the throne. The general appointed a detail to escort us to the flying field among whom were the familiar faces of Dorotny mutton, .Josephine Katterjohn, ftoderick Davis, Brenda Pinson, Jane Kasey and Bonnie Jones. We arrived at the field and entered a plane somewhat similar to the one in which I arrived but much larger, and more elaborate. My guides informed me that it was called by the name, Quinnskiplane , after its inventor, Prof. Walter Edgar Quinn, who was now working on the alpha ray track machine and the direct current transformer. During the trip we were entertained by watching a professional football game through the television in which the star players were Comrades Jack Watson, Jack Seidel, Roy Winstead, Francis Smith and James Heizer, at the same time listening over the radio to several bolshevic addresses denouncing the present administration by Emma Pentecost, Edgar Lacy, Nellie Lauenstein and Virginia Katterjohn. Our first stop was at Pariski, France, where we stayed a few days and watched an opera directed by Carl Beyer. It had an all-star cast including E'Lois Geibel, Dorothy Sugg, Wilbert Weldon, Maurice Den- ton, Agnew Galloway, Mildred Helsley, Linda. Mae Jones and Margaret Louis Kleiderer. At Monte Carlo, our next stopping place, we were heartily greeted by its owner, Charles Mitchell and his employees Sara Lynch Helm, Mildred and La Verne Potts, C. R. Tanner, 0wen Gregory, Dorothy Pearce and Mar- garet Sue Farley. When we had lost all the money we had with us, we continued to Rome where we were met by a detachment of the Royal Soviet Army, who had been awaiting our arrival. Comrade Kath- ryn Utley, their leader, and Privates Dorothy Gentry, Grace Crawley and Minnie Wynn Rice welcomed us and urged that we stay at Rome for the week-end. We only had time, however, to remain long enough to go through the Vatican and see some famous paintings by Harold Chadwell and afterwards watch a boxing match for the world heavyweight title between Comrades Randall Sellars and Henry Brink, so the next morning we re-entered our Quinnskiplane and hurried on to Moscow. We linquered there only long enough to greet the newly appointed governor of Russia, Curtis Miller, and his advisory staff composed of Elizabeth Paff, Frances Hopkins, Louise Frank and Dorothy Todd, and to eat a free lunch in a hamburger stand of which Nellie Alexander was the proprietor. The trip from Moscow to Tokio took us but an hour and once there we were entertained by a. group of missionaries who were converting the Japanese to the Communist religion. Among these I recognized Thelma IgR.oy, Nellie Mahler, Helen Watson, Dorothy Smith, Alma Cates, Benjamin 0'Nan and Clarence YVeltee. They informed us that our old classmates, Kenneth Cooper and Wilbert Schoepflin, were in Japan at this time but as they were climbing Mount Fujiyama we decided not to wait for their return. We therefore hopped ofl' to Los Angeles. where we attended a beach party with Margaret Robinson, Margaret Jordan, Frances Gish and Helen Williams. These four accompanied us on our short hop to Reno and helped us bail Vayden Moore, Ia Verne Kettig and Margaret Coleman out of jail, where they had been placed for issuing propaganda against the Emperor. While we were in Reno we attended a speakeasy whose joint owners were Ruth Ashby, Elizabeth Chandler and Mary Edith Woodburn. There we met the anti-communist leaders, Frances Sheffer and Ruby Campfield. It was with pleasant anticipation that we turned the nose of our plane at last homeward and stop- ping only to pick up two hitch-hikers, Mary Elizabeth Cunningham and Mary Lou Killman, we hurtled through the air towards our old home-town. Soon the plane landed and we alighted on the field at Hender- son, which had become a thriving city of chiedy historical interest being the birthplace of the Emperor. As we rounded the corner of Main and Washington Streets we saw the First Communist Church, which was being stoutly defended by its pastor, George Cooksey, and the Board of Deacons which in- cluded Robert Pfeiffer, Billy Norment and Gordon Critser, from a machine-gun attack by an anarchist raiding party led by Katherine Blanc. The detail of the regular army that had been escorting us immedi- ately engaged the anarchists in combat and during the fight I felt a searing pain near my heart, as a machine-gun bullet entered my body, and all went blank. When I awoke I found myself lying in the Henderson Hospital surrounded by a group of my fellow- classmates, all beardless now and speaking in perfectly good American slang. Startled to find myself alive, I felt the place where the bullet had entered but could detect no trace of a wound. Of course, you have guessed it, I realized then that it was all a dream, but to me it was something more than a dream: I believed then and still do, that the dream was truly prophetic. Just to keep on the safe side, at any rate, I at once sought out Billy Compton and called off a certain wager of one malted milk that I had made with him. -ANTHONY PERRIER. - xi l firm!! l26l