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

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After leaving them, Iidrove on down the street and saw a sign in front of the largest theater of that city with the names of James William Stevens and Nancy Ellen Smiley in huge letters. They were co-starring in The Yodeling :Dnugtiirlm Arkansas. Well, there is one girl who has at last achieved her I next stopped at a hardware store for a. feed bucket, when whom should I meet but Emma jean Sandifer in the Tin Department selling cups. . As I stepped out of the store, a circus parade was passing by. I was quite ipigplrxped to find Nellie Mae Rohlfing, the quiet lass of the class of '39, a barker a circus. I started on my homeward journeyand stopped at a dairy farm which was run by Martha Ann johnson. Miss johnson had received all her informa- tion on how to manage a dairy farm during her Senior days in High School. In the morning after returning home I received a telegam saying that my aunt, who lives in New York, was seriously ill. After hurriedly packing our bags we caught the train for New York. A little later someone tapped me on the shoulder and asked for my ticket. I looked up into the face of our old B. G. H. S. Romeo, Leland Gillum. As soon as he made his rounds, Leland and I had a long chat and discussed former classmates. He told me that Carmen Lindsay and her swing orchestra had a special coach on the train. He also informed me that on his last trip, he saw the former Edna Peecher who was here on a visit. She had 'been married for some time to a much celebrated artist from Italy, Antonio Michaelangelo. He also informed me that Roger Howard had committed suicide. Carmen Lindsay had been bitten by a jitterbug and had jilted him for the sake of her career. I decided to console myself from the shock of this news by indulging in a little dinner in the diner. I had just sat down when I was suddenly surprised to have a bowl of soup slopped unceremoniously into my lap and looked up behold- ing Darline Scheer, who, it seems, had not yet learned to master a tray on a moving train. And the surprise of surprises! I saw john Pletch Adams coming down the aisle to clean up the damage with his huge mop slopping soap suds all the way. As he slowly sauntered along I overheard him telling some slightly silly story concerning his grandfather's mishaps. V When we arrived in New York, I learned that my aunt had passed away and it was left to me to choose an undertaker. In thumbing through the index of undertakers, I saw the name of julia Whiteside and immediately called her. When the hearse arrived I found the driver to be none other than Terrace Eugene Boudinier. I guess all his trips to Olney weren't in vain after all. I learned that by request of my aunt, the officiating minister at her funeral was to be Frances Peabody. To satisfy my lifelong desire and also little Sammy's, I went to see the wharves of New York. I heard a woman screaming at the top of her voice for Tommy and after peering between several boats, I saw the person stand- ing at the rail of a small fishing boat. Her hair was stringing in her eyes but even with this camouflage, I recognized the former Charlene Harness. ' At the depot. while waiting for the train that would take me back to my home, my attention was attracted to the picture of a woman posted on a bulletin board. She bore a striking resemblance to Frances Fitzgerald, my old classmate. Upon a more careful scrutiny, I found that it was she and that she was to lecture that night on the advantages of ,the multi-colored wig as a medium for free expression in personality. Upon my safe arrival at home, I made a summary of all the classmates whom I had seen, heard and read about. I found only two missing - - Emesteen Gooch' and Evelyn Lewis. I learned after some inquiry that the fonner was living in Chicago but could not find where. e,Ch'.i1mibni1Do

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PROPHECY OF CLASS OF '39 . I I had just completed the filming of one of my classmates, Kenrble Smith I'1nsley, ip his search for all our former classmates. The story is told in Kemble's own words, wi-th your producer, Betty Edna Ogden, acting as commentator: Rags! Newspapers! Any old junk today, - - Yes, lady, be right up. I stopped right there for who should it be but Ruth Lewis Lemmons, the wife of Granville, standing in the door of a stately mansion. Granville had fallen heir to the millions of his oil magnate uncle. A 'Why Kemble Smith Boone Tinsley! lt certainly is a surprise to see you driving a junk wagon. Why, yes, I have some old newspapers. Nedra, wilt! you collect all the old newspapers for me and do come see whom we have wit us. And when Nedra appeared she was none other than our school pal, june Adams, working as maid to Ruth. Why, june, 1 wouldn't have known you, I said. June wiped a tear from her eye and said, Oh, Kemble, I suppose you have not heard of my recent loss of poor, dear Ralph. After his death I was forced to seek employ -nent to care for little Cicero. After a brief conversation. I passed on down Main Street and as the horse jogged along, I oicked up one of the old newspapers which I had just received. ln blaring headlines on the first page my astonished eyes saw: World Speed Record Broken By Ace Pilot and in smaller print Luther Gillum sets all-time speed record with his new Rocket Ship and just below that a large picture of him. Well, blow me down, I didn't think Uncle Luther would ever get his feet off the ground. But who was that trick little figure in the co-pilot's suit? It was none other than our former B. G. H. S. Class Treasurer, Dorothy Mae Williams. And there was the President of Southern Air Lines walking toward Gillum with the trophy. And it looked like a woman. It was a woman! It was none other than Mary E. Wright, known as Dixie by her business associates, as she still uses her Southern brogue as an advertisement to the company. My horse finally turned in my familiar driveway and I was met at the door by my little 268 pound wife, the former Lois Chamberlain, who grabbed the newspapers and ran into the house to catch up on some back news while I put away the horse and ate the supper fixed by my wife's loving hands. After supper I got settled in the one easy chair and started reading, when litztle Sammie came up clamoring for me to read him the comic strip, Briscoe Kids , which is in every popular newspaper in the United States and is written by another former classmate, Lawrence Andrew Wright. My attention was next attracted to the front page of another paper by a piece which I read to Lois: The eyes of the world were centered on the illness of Marvin Moss yesterday. The noted archeologist lately entered the pyramid of the mighty Egyptian pharoah, Suztenchamet. It had been said that anyone entering the tomb would live only ten days. Yesterday was the tenth day and Moss's illness startled the world. Physicians reported today that it was an attack of acute indigestion. - Later on, one of our good friends, who is Bowen Rogers, the sodajerker at the corner drug store, came calling. On Sunday morning we attended church to hear our beloved pastor, Reverend William McCallister and his little wife, Amy Gamm, who is an efficient choir leader. - On Sunday afternoon we calfed on the I-Iammack Sisters who are the aristocratic old maids of our community. VVe were entertained during our visit by the performing parrots the two sisters had trained. Monday morning I went to a neighboring city to deliver my wares to Cash Bowen, owner of the large paper factories of Apex. I was led into Cash's spacious office by his private secretary, Mary Eleanor Woods. e,G::mdIl2Jm1.-zlnflo

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The arrival of a circular advertising a very modern winter resort in Florida under the management of Evelyn Lewis seemed to coincide with my efforts to learn of her whereabouts. Bouncing back to Bowling Green and bumping along the Boulevard, I followed a rough riding road to the old High School to attend an annual alumni banquet. After this affair, I was completely content to return to my cozy little cottage with its funny fireplace in front of which I could sit on frosty evenings and reminisce of the good old days. CLASS POEMS THE VOYAGE ' By Lawrence A. Wright We'l1 soon be sailing outward On Iife's voyage that we must take. We can either choose an Ocean, Or a river, or a lake. As we drift out from the harbor Where the sea is calm and still, We regret that we must leave you And our hearts with sorrow fill. But no matter where we're sailing Or how rough the waves may .be, There will always live the memories Or our school days in B. G. When you launch out on that voyage Don't expect a sky of blueg For there's bound to be some shadows In everything you do. But have courage - - and faith in the Master Who will guide your ship for you, And calm the rolling waves If we only ask him to. Sail on - - though the tide be against you And your sails have been torn by the wind: Sail on - - 'till you reach that harbor To anchor, at the journey's end. To our teachers and each schoolmate That we leave on the shore behind, Comes a hearty cheer, We're for you From the'Class of '39. s