Bowling Green High School - Speaker Yearbook (Bowling Green, MO)

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From the conversation going on about me, I gathered that the two stunningly dressed girls were making a trip to New York. I saw them turn to speak to the lady directly back of them, who looked several years older than they. Her face seemed quite familiar, and as I continued to gaze, a name flashed into my mind--Lillian Palmer. Before I stopped to think, I was calling her by name and asking her if she re- membered me. She explained that she was now principal of University City High School, and was taking these two girls, who were entitled to the trip because of their scholastic standing, to see New York. Barbara tapped me on the arm, and I quickly stepped back. I had forgotten my instructions-- no conversation of my own lniative was allowed on the ship. At Chicago, a tall, dark haired man boarded the ship. The amount of luggage which he was carrying surprised me. He dropped a pencil from his vest pocket which rolled to the far end of the plane. I retrieved it for him, and was saying in a conventional manner, NI beg your pardon, slr, but you dropped your pencil--,U when I stopped. I couldn't go any farther. NOh yes, thank you, now if you'll only help me get this--,N and Albert Manzke stopped too. Hwell I'm a--. How are you Nell Mar1e?H He exclaimed. And then as I continued to stare at him, he went on to tell that he was flying to Italy to study under the famous voice instructor, Vido Guadio. He told me that he had begun to get a foothold in the world of music, and after his four years of study, he planned to make his debut at the Metropolitan. This time, since I had not begun the conversation, I felt free to talk, and since there was no immediate tasks at hand, we enjoyed several minutes of conversation. I took him back to Lillian and left them to enjoy themselves. I was beginning to feel rather glad that Fate had thrown me in such a position. And then I had an inspiration. Realizing that opportunities such as those, did not come every day, I decided to make note of all my class mates of 1935-56, and if I should accidentally meet them, to put down their occupation. Thus, you can see how this poorly-worded specimen of story- telling came into being. I shall not attempt to describe the sights I saw and the curious people I met. I merely have put down, in as interesting a way as I know how, the places in whlch I found my former classmates located. 0 ir

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The next two weeks were a dreary succession of newspaper ads, applications for positions, and refusals. On Saturday night of the second week, I was desperate. I realized that I couldn't keep on like this much longer. Wearily, I picked up the paper and again scanned through the ads. No secretaries were wantedf-nothing but house work. Well, I decided, as a last resort I could do housework--suddenly a very small ad caught my eye. Wanted: NTwo girls to act as air stewardesses. Un- married, neat appearance, and 22 years of age. Should I try it? But of course--anything! I went the next morning and out of the sixteen girls who had applied, I was one of the two who were chosen. On the Bible, we swore that we would remain unmarried for a period of two years, while in service. .I learned that the plane was going to make a round-the-world trip, and that we were to leave in two days. The day of our departure came and I with another excited girl stood beside the plane--the first in which I had ever ridden. We were given our last instructions and then we hurried up the steps and found ourselves in one of the largest planes I had ever seen. It took us at least thirty minutes to feel at ease among our new surroundings. Our uniforms were of a very heavy dark blue material, with white emblems--quite attractive. All passengers being aboard, the pilot, a tall, angular girl stepped in. I turned, naturall enough, to examine her more closely, when I suddenly gave a slight gasp. My companion stewardess, Barbara Miles, grasped my arm, as though she feared I was ill. However, I soon re- covered, but I still felt rather groggy from the shock--that pilot, the pilot of the plane in which I was going to be stewardess, was none other than an old B. G. student of the Senior Class of 1955-36--Myrtle Jett! I recalled the time she had remarked that to be an avlatress was one of her ambitions. But we as Seniors, feel so confident, that I had placed little belief in her statement. But, wonders of all wonders, it had happened! After all, I decided, am- bitions were not in vain, no matter how far-fetched they may seem. - The next few hours, we were busy attending to the needs- of our passengers. E r

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A Before we landed in New York, one of our passengers be- came violently ill. When we landed, Barbara and I accompanied the pain-stricken man to St. George's Hospitals, one of the largest hospitals in all New York. Two very efficient look- ing surgeons met us in the hall, I immediately noticed something about the bend of the dark haired surgeon, that seemed familiar. Also the assisting surgeon seemed some- what familiar. As they turned and with the assistance of a nurse started down the long hallway, my mouth flew open, and in spite of the most heroic efforts on my part, it remained that way, until my astonishment had partly subsided. For those two doctors were both old schoolmates. Not one--but both! Perhaps now you can understand, why I was so sur- prised. The two surgeons were none other than my erstwhile schoolmates--J. D. Haley and Henry Eames. The high School companionship of these two had evidently remained unbroken. While waiting for results of the operation, I glanced at a notice posted on the front entrance of the hallway. It was merely a schedule of the night nurses. Gut of idle curiosity, I glanced over the list. At the very bottom one of those names Jumped out at me--Edna Gamm. HAha,N thought I, nAnother girl who has realized her ambit1on.U It was soon reported that the patient would recover, but we were asked to do a most unusual thing. Barbara Miles and I were to go to the home of our sick passenger and in- form his family of the operation, which to me seemed a very unusual proceeding, and out of the realm of our orders. How- ever, we took a taxi to the address given us. and in a few minutes found ourselves outside of an imposing mansion. We hurried up the walk, and rang the doorbell. The door was opened, automatically, or at least so it seemed, so silent- ly and efficiently did the swallow-tailed butler draw it back. wwe want to see Mrs. Bolling, if you please--,H I began hesitatingly and then stopped. Nwill Madam wait in here? I will tell my mistress that you are here?H He bowed and marched away. a Do you know why I stopped in the middle of a sentence? Simply because that impeccably, immaculately dressed butler was Donn Hulse, Quite as dandified as ever. I decided that Bowling Green students seemed to be congregating in New York. During the time that we gave our message to Mrs. Bolling and were shown out of the house, the butler, never once, by word or sign betrayed the fact that he ever knew me. P