Bolivar Central School - Gusher Yearbook (Bolivar, NY)

Page 30 text:

€tl€ History of Class of ’31 We, Seniors of 1931, are now 27, a large class. Together have we passed through four years of high school life, whose formerly gigantic problems appear to us now, after years of slow development into the austerity of Seniors, as the most trivial of details. Lest we forget—let us go back and review those years of merry activity, which now dwell in a land beyond our reach, a dreamland, which yields access if properly sought. The quest requires that we ourselves be dreamers. Even now our dream-ship floats toward us, all glistening, pink and silver, a scintillating bubble of ample size, within whose golden walls we must depart and re-live our high school life. Safely ensconced within this fanciful body we glide swiftly on, until we reach a foreign land where are irrevocably stored the years we seek. First we come face to face with ourselves, mere Freshmen but recently arrived from the tedious grades. With Mr. T. L. Johnson as principal, we were initiated into the joys of living. After a year of some foolish Freshman-like play, and a little work, culminating in success or failure, we decided life was truly grand, and passed on to the higher realm of Sophomores. As Sophomores, secretly enjoying our new guise of more profound sobriety, we became more attentive to study, concluding that Freshmen were a silly lot. And during this year we presented a stirring musical comedy in assembly under the guidance of Mr. Romaine Button. In our third year, we were termed Juniors,to us, a magic name, spelling increasing powers and glory. At this time we were thoroughly experienced in the art of money raising, inspired by Miss Martiny, whose ingenious suggestions, executed by the class, attained the mundane goal. We learned that banquets do cost, and, besides, are great affairs, especially the one we gave the Seniors in May at the Bolivar. The year was filled on our part by giving card parties and bake sales. At length, suppressing a desire to linger, we glide onward, stopping only to fondly review our Senior days. We had become, strangely, distinguished editors and writers, editing the Sentinel and Gusher, our prized possessions, both supervised by Miss Tallman, preceptress in the B.C. S. A busy year engulfed us. With Miss Martiny, on April 30, 1931, we presented the memorable, all-laughy, The Whole Town s Talking. We see again those numerous Senior gatherings, diligent groups, ar-rangmg for commencement, truly a task. In June, we twenty-seven Seniors, gather for a last high school class, facing graduation and life. Pop! Our bubble has vanished. With a desperate sensation of helplessness, we fall swiftly into space. With a shock, we once more return to reality, realizing that our happiest days can be only reached in dreams.

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MARY C. WARD Mary” Assistant Editor of Sentinel, '30 Student Council Vice-President, ’31 Assistant Editor Gusher, '30, '31 Sportsmanship Brotherhood, '30 31 Glee Club, '28, '29, '30 “There appears much joy in her. ROY E. WHITE White” Glee Club President, '31 Hi-Y, '31 Class Play, '28, '29, '30, '31 Latin Club Treasurer, '30 Band, '31 Student Council, '31 Gusher Staff, '31 Sentinel Staff, '31 Dramatic Club, '31 He plays o' th' voil-de-gambo.” BYRON F. WHITFORD “Whit” Band, '31 Sentinel Editor, '31 Class Play, '31 “Heaven! that I had thy head! Shakespeare is to be thanked for the quotations—Bolivar Central School is to be thanked for the Seniors. I 25 1

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UWxMcnt ctiswft kWH The Future Stygian darkness surrounds us- a blackness so intense and material as to be almost felt. Before us, like a dazzling star alone in midnight skies, lies a clear crystal ball, one endowed with the powers of giving forth sounds and scenes of the future. As I now approach and demand the future of the Class of 31 the effulgent globe is already emitting strange sounds and fleeting glimpses. Come make haste, and gather round. Immediately we see Mary Ward the social leader, greeting her guests, the most honored of whom is Caroline Kirchgasser who won overnight fame for her successful flight across the 1 acihc. There is a sudden change. The crystal sends forth the hum of many typewriters. Of course, it is a large firm of which Robert Sawyer is president. Nearby at his desk sits his most competent secretary. Helen Potter, her mind at last liberated from the horrors of the diabolical grasp of irregular French verbs. Now we are shown the interior of a famed hotel, the usual gorgeous palms and orchestras. The manager, coumous young chap, is none but Glenn Hibbard. Ah. listen there, on one side is a popular dance orchestra broadcasting late blues. The announcer. Ed Dougherty, in accents cheerful, introduces the public's most favored artist, Bea Tyler, the girl of a thousand charms. This gay scene is interrupted by the faint, wavering notes of a piano within the Carnegie Auditorium. The player is Roy White, who has recently completed a successful grand opera. Again there is a change. We discern the glistening white rooms of a hospital. We see a familiar laughing face, that of Catherine Shannon. Sickness is now a pleasure. Beside her is her assistant, the former school comedienne. Carmen Clark, who could find humor in a morgue. But look, there we behold the exterior of a charming girls' college. Two pretty teachers rise before us. Do you not recognize them? They are Kathryn Donnelly and Ruth Harrington, teachers of Latin and English. One two. three, four, raise both legs high. Hear that well known voice. That is Mary K. Dougherty, directing health exercises. Mary being so fond of Virgil, might have been expected to be a teacher of a dead tongue. (?) Oh! Oh! What have we? Most perplexing indeed. Just a swirl of color and fantastic shapes. Of course, modernistic art, and who but George Davis could be the smocked figure in the midst. To our astonishment wc see Elizabeth Bartley, supple lass, armed with her culinary weapons.a teacher of the fast vanishing art of home making. And lo! mirabile dictu. there is Doris Sortore enveloped in downy textiles, fashioning modish gowns At her right, tripping before polished mirrors, a veritable Garbo, is the exquisite model. Margaret Shavalier. who has an extra Foot(e). But we expected that. What a din! The crystal shudders. It is the motors of a handsome plane. Look at its occupants, Russ Case and Byron Whitford, setting a new and startling endurance record. Russel, please note, has fallen asleep, evidently sorely afflicted with the old school day malady. However, his snores are much more tuneful, the result of long and difficult practice. Come, get in step. Hear those blues’ There is a chorus of swaying girls. Why, there is one actress with flaming locks. It is Maxine Simons, the girl with “it. enjoying stage success. Even now a camera man. almost hidden from sight under a burden of films, is ready to take the It girl’s picture for the papers. But to our far-seeing eyes he is only Stanley Root, still keeping a nervy pace with life. Now we see a familiar countenance. A girl whom we know as Evelyn Coon is teaching piano. We learn, not beyond our forethought, that she is the wife of Harold Newton, eminent scientist, who has successfully isolated the spring fever bacillus. Again we sec a very modern interior. A spacious hotel where gay crowds throng. Seated at a small table, vanquishing tasty delicacies, is Wrayburn Clark, who has grown wealthy through his patents of mechanical devices. But whose is this ducky little bungalow with those gay awnings? Let us look. There is our old standby. Hazel Clarke, performing her domestic duties. We don't know who is the fortunate gentleman, but we do know that Hazel will take care of him. Now what can this theater mean? Why it's a Shakespearean play, As You Like It.” that is being staged. Look with what infinite grace and charm the fair Rosalind, one Mildred Allen, moves about in the Forest of Arden. After the play, Mildred introduced me to her private secretary and old friend, Irene Barnes. Wasn t it fortunate that two such firm friends should be together through all the years? Thus did I, in a few moments, see the fate of my classmates, as a fate and destiny attained by good living and hard work. I was not a little pleased at the outcome. Everyone had made a success, enjoying life to its fullest extent. Rather reluctantly did I withdraw from the crystal, so happy had been the moments spent there, seeing old friends in their new surroundings