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Page 30 text:
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1922 - Blue Gray - 1922 SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY Old Father Time sits by and watches ages upon ages roll by. His hair is white, his brow is furrowed, his benevolent countenance expresses joy. The great clock of time is striking year 1950. As is his custom. Father Time opens his great diary to again record the deeds of the children of men. His face brightens and his voice as the sound of many waters pours forth. With a smile he says, “Blessings on thee. Bethel Academy Class of 1922, posterity salutes you! As I gaze over the wide world I find your members everywhere, performing the work of the world. My old eyes are dimmed with tears as I behold in a wretched hovel in the slums of New York City two busy women, Carol Taylor and Hannah Wiggman, fighting filth and disease, spreading cheer and the love of Chris: everywhere about them. All the children know them by the name of the ‘ladies who tell us about Jesus.’ The ambulance appears, and with an anxious look Hannah is sending little Johnny to Hope Hospital. I’ll follow along to see what happens. Lo, and behold, the door of the hospital is opened by no one but the great Dr. Enoch Johnson. That can't possibly be the fellow they called Red years ago; but that’s just the fellow. He is considerably changed, however. His hair is tinged with gray, and a small moustache adds to his manliness. What strikes me most, though, is the look in his eyes as he gazes upon little Johnny on his bed of suffering. The doctor is evidently directing the care of the boy to a sweet-faced nurse, who immediately trips lightly ahead of the stretcher and puts the small patient in a clean, white bed. After making him comfortable, she takes his temperature. But what is that ring she has on her finger? Why. I could have guessed it; it’s one of the B. A. ’22 rings, and this smiling face is Esther Bcdicn’s. But what has this messenger to tell someone at the door of the dietitian’s office? ‘The superintendent of nurses would like to see you, Miss Land-berg.’ What, another familiar name? I’ll follow Miss Landbcrg to Miss Bodien’s office and hear what they say. ‘Hello, Esther, what is it?’ ‘0 say, Eva, there’s a little fellow up here whom I am giving a little personal attention for the first days. Kindly give him an extra dish occasionally. His name is Johnny, one of Hannah’s boys.’ ” Father Time meanders, “Well, if I haven’t met with five members of ’22 in connection with this hospital. Birds of a feather flock together. “Perhaps, traveling westward, I shall find a few of ‘mv chosen tribe.’ I’ll stop here in Cheyenne. Beside a pretty little stream stands a beautiful home. The home is worthy of an artistic inmate and so it has Mr. Burriss Richardson. Upon a rustic bench sits a man before a canvass with a brush in his hand. His dreams make marvelous pictures, and the golden sunset, the green trees, and the winding rivulet make an excellent setting.” The speaker turns a page, and his trembling hand makes the paper rustle. He turns his head still farther westward and his eye is arrested by a large crowd of people in a bookstore in Seattle. He sees a middle-aged man with an amused and good-natured smile on his face watching what seems to be a bargain counter. Upon looking closer he finds it to be a counter where a new book, “The Passing of the Garage,” by Sigfried Sandberg, is being sold and going like ‘hot cakes.” Father Time speaks: “Why, this onlooker must be, and is, the author, he who is known over land and sea.” The seer turns his eyes back to the east and they rest on a great meeting. An international assemblage of bards is in session in one of the buildings of Bethel University. The assemblage has just elected a peer of poets. “They are introducing the new peer, I notice, and it is none other than Professor Herbert Peterson. He is preparing to speak, and see 24
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Page 29 text:
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1922 - Blue Gray - 1922 SENIOR CLASS POEM When first we came to Bethel dear, We were but freshies green, I fear, We thought we knew what teachers know And teachers see, And battled every earthly foe But victors we. But time went on. The freshies passed. A year is all those glories last. And Sophomore’s ranks by us were filled A comely class. At Fall we all were really thrilled It came to pass. Of all the years in school we spent No time was more to proud ness lent Than proud and selfish sophomore year With freshies green Who must be taught respect, and fear Our powers keen. As Juniors, classified the third Our minds by Senior thoughts were stirred. We dreamt of one great closing day When toils are past, Next fall would find us, after summer’s stay As Senior’s classed. The year we call our senior year Our school grows very, very dear. Tho’ soon we’ll leave, to toil and care We still arc here And pluck the fruits of Knowledge fair, In Senior year. Hail, Bethel, Alma Mater true, We thank our T.ord, dear one, for you And tho’ we leave, our thoughts will pause A moment stay At sweet melodious time that was, But passed away. Four years, too short a time, but still Tho’ life may give us more of thrill And more of joys but hardships, too, We ne’er regret The joyous time at Bethel true Or her forget. Receive our thanks from hearts sincere May God still bless you, Him you fear, And take our greatest gift, our heartfelt thanks, Our wishes true We’ll fill each one the honor ranks To honor you. 25
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Page 31 text:
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1922 - Blue Gray - 1922 how the audience is becoming electrified with attention for‘Pete’ is puckering his lips as he used to do, which always meant some inimitable witticism. Well up in front, a face draws my attention, and it proves to be none other than Edith Larson, who seems to be taking notes on the address. Yes, Edith is a well-known contributer to literature and is nationally recognized as one of the foremost literary critics. “Bethel has grown till it is one of the largest Universities of the Northwest. It is remarkable how it has advanced from an academy of a few hundred students and small equipment to an institution with a score of beautiful buildings and an enrollment reaching up into the thousands, but this is greatly due to the interest of the many alumni. “And here—do my eyes deceive me—I recognize a graceful, womanly form entering one of the buildings. Upon my word, it’s Dora Wallcndorf, who is Dean of Women and head of the Economics department of the school. “Perhaps I should find some others of that special class should I visit Minneapolis. On the corner of Ninth and Nicollet I at once notice a large white stone building. In large letters I read the familiar names, Mac Millan-Hagstrom Clothing House. I need go no farther, for right here my penetrating eyes can see the richly furnished offices of two of my former student friends. Immediately next door I sec another high building. Evidently this is a community house. In the front are large lobbies and in one corner I see the familiar face of Margaret Olson welcoming the weary wayfarers. Her hair, also, is tinged with gray, but her beauty is not marred. My eve is held by a name I sec on the desk beside her, ‘Harold Martinson, President!” Father Time strokes his beard, then continues: “But where is Edward Viren? The last record I have of him was when he received his degree in astronomy from Oxford. Behold, a large tower, an observatory in the northern part of Minnesota near his birthplace. Here I find him gazing through the telescope, traveling up the cloudy speck in the handle of Orion’s sword. Along a shady bank of an isolated stream in the Minnesota wilds, I find two shaggy-bearded fishermen. Suddenly one says, ‘Hank, have you heard this one?’ The speaker is Dr. Reuben Tanquist, now resting up after a world-wide lecture tour. He is speaking to Henry Johnson, lately returned from a visit to Mars. Henry Johnson is a special representative of the Government, whose business it is to establish diplomatic relations with newly discovered populated planets. “Next my attention is called to the United States Patent Office in Washington. Here I sec the electrical wizard, Roland Miller, from the Corn state petitioning for a number of patents, chief of which seems to be a pompadour bcautificr and hair wave creator. His face has a look of resignation in it as he sits in the office of Patent Examiner, listening to the eulogy of the lost town of Little Falls as expounded by the examiner, David Larson. While in ashington I am attracted to the aviation fields where multitudes are gathering. A new method of travel has been invented—that of a boat which travels on the wireless waves. Suddenly something darts from the sky and drops into the outspread net. It is the new invention and from the boat steps Carl Swanson and Adolph Johnson. It is announced that they had left Peking, China, only a second before, and that the trip was entirely successful. “Now my eyes turn again to the great city New York. Seeing a great auditorium, I may as well stop and follow the performance. The speaker is being introduced who proves 25
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