Bloomingburg High School - Hi Spotter Yearbook (Bloomingburg, OH)

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Class Poem As shadows of evening are drawing nearer. I think how time does fly, Of the good old times which always grow dearer To us as the years go hy. To our teachers we should give all the praise, For our bright and happy high school days. And these days will to each he, The sweetest of all youthful memories. But we are all looking forward, To the happy days which are to come. When we all march hopefully onward. And The praise the school where we came from. teachers' efforts perhaps seemed vain.7 1 class We couldn't comprehend what they did explain, But we hope as the years do pass, We'll make teachers and everyone proud of this As we go out on the highways of life, Let us make living seem worth while. For all the problems. struggles and strife, And always go along wearing a smile. We'll always he loyal to old B.H.S. And when in the world we make a success. We'll think of the good old Scarlet and Gray. And say uThat's what made me what I am tod ay.

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in the lunior year. As our clpfzs had so Illlllll pep. We presented a play entitled Professor Peppf' It would take a volume to write the history of that junior year. As we entered our Senior year, we had twelve orgfnal scholars and one recent member, which makes a total of thirteen to graduaie, Never did the breast of the king on coronalion day swell with such joy and pride as did ours as we entered the high school as Seniors, We looked neither to the right nor to the left as with dignified step and compressed lips we took our places for the last lap of the journey that would place us Out of School Life and into Lile's School. How different everything seemed from that time three years before. We now had a feeling of personal responsbility and a desire to make the most of every fleeting fnflfnents. Our class was fortunate in having enough basket hull boys to make a team of its own and a cheer leader and a business manager besides. We realize that our graduation will be a serious loss to the basket ball team of B. H. S, For twelve years we have eaten the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge and are about to go out into the wide world and take our place in the ranks of its workers. We hope that we may continue to show the great brilliance which has distinguished us in the past. CLASS HISTORIAN 'r o ws-we F 5? t I we M

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Class Prophecy SHORT time ago I came home late and being very hungry I atc a lunch of ' pickles, cheese and apple pie. I then retired and closing my eyes shut out the noise of a turbulent world. In a moment I seemed to be wafted twenty years into the future. I was on a beautiful island in the South Sea, where the sting of winter was never known. I had been cast upon this island from a sinking ship and was N the only white person who ever walked the shores. The natives gave me a beautiful home but in spite of these surroundings I longed for my own people and looked forward to the time when a chance ship would come to my rescue. Each day I went to a high hill where I could look far over the ocean in search of a sail, but each day returned disappointed. As the years went by I learned to love my island home, where the most harsh sound heard was the cooing of the dove and the soft breaking ol' the surf on the sandy shore. Imagine my astonishment one day as from my accustomed hill I saw a ship, full rigged. bearing down directly on our little harbor. Soon I saw she was in distress and was seeking a harbor of refuge. She dropped anchor abreast of us and a few frightened faces looked over the railing and among others was the face of a middlefaged woman who seemed far more composed than the men. In spite of the twenty odd years that had passed I easily recognized the features of Lillian Marvin. She said she was going as a missionary to a South Sea island, so I told her to stay with us, as we were in need of a missionary. I led the way to my home and while we prepared for dinner she told me the story of the graduating class of 1928. It sounded like a fairy tale as the history of some of the class seemed more like a story written for a book than of real life. I was so anxious to hear of the dear old class I could hardly wait for Chil, as we used to call her, to begin her narrative. Suddenly I said: What has become of Frank Sheppard? She replied: Well, you know Frank always had :J kind of sneaking notion that he wanted to enter West Point. It was his dream to become a General. He went to school and the last we heard of him he was in Egypt and still trying to win the hand of a lovely maiden. You remember Mary Ellen Brown, who was such an artistic dresser? She became a great student and graduating from Ohio State University, she later married a member of the class who is a successful Baker in Los Angeles. Margaret Shirkey took a business course and became Private Secretary to a large concern in Chicago. Becoming infatuated with her story and impatient to hear of more of my friends, I broke in: How about Ruth Gerhardt? She was such a lovely girl. I hope she has fared well, 'kShe certainly has. You remember she used to look sidewise at Harold Allen. but he never knew it. He went West and made a million or two in the mining business and later made a trip around the world. She became a prominent Violinist and last year went on a concert tour to Europe and whom should she meet but Harold. No, it didn't end the way you think it did. He had his bride along and so the story ends right there. I am sorry to tell you of the fate of Boyd Butz and Ray Morris. They were both strange boys when you knew them. Their only thought seemed to be about engineering and converting the heathen. Ray went to South America and Boyd, disappointed in love, soon followed. They were never heard from again, There were rumors came oi.t that they formed part of the meal for a tribe, but we never knew anything about it. You know that Lenora Shoemaker was a great lover of patent medicines. So she conceived the idea of raising herbs for the market. About that time a rich Uncle died and