Buchanan High School - Yellow Jacket Yearbook (Buchanan, GA)

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MRS. JULIAN WOOD MRS. SUE SANDERS MRS. FERN SMITH PRIMARY TEACHERS MRS. REBECCA KNIGHT MRS. PAULINE TEAL MISS KA THLEEN EAVES 9

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MRS. VIRGINIA JENNINGS 6th Grade MISS BOBBIE SUE DANIEL 6th Grade MRS. MARY KIRK 5th Grade JUNIOR HIGH FACULTV MRS. JAMES HARRISON 5th Grade MRS. MYRTICE WINKLE 4th Grade MRS. EVELYN SANFORD 4th Grade 8

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Class History and Destination As I go back into the years to relate the history of this graduating class of '52, I hesitate to put some of the memories in writing. After all, when a brilliant group of boys and girls like these land in one pile to spend twelve years of their important lives together there are bound to be occasions when almost unbelievable action takes place such as that important day, February 8, 1947, when we were in the eight grade and Melvin Agan actually said the ABC’s for his teacher, tired, worn-out and growing old, Mrs. Avis Matthews. Little did he know he’d have to be tortured by another hectic woman for four, long, almost unbearable years when Mrs. Apphia Griffith attempted the impossible task of teaching our class English. Would you believe that when we were in the ninth grade we learned that it’s more proper to say “we isn’t than we aren’t?” Yes, we’re a marvelous class. Returning to the early years of our school life I would like for this school to know what a nice quiet class we have always been. Year by year as we climbed upward on the educational ladder we left teachers crying at our sad departure and dreading so much having to go through the next year without seeing our bright faces sitting in their classrooms to inspire them and give them courage to go through the day. At the beginning of our Freshmen year, we had quite a number of new students coming from Felton and other large metropolises. Being “brids of a feather, we flocked together into one big gracious family. As we grew older and became more self-relying, some of our classmates, deciding they had reached their peak of learning, turned to the outside world. Some of them got married, some weren’t so unfortunate. Others joined Uncle Sam’s great army, but the great majority of the class remained, determined to see it through. Now we come to the end of our last year in high school and though we don’t want to leave the impression that we're boasting, I’d like for you to know that our Superintendent, has through the years, marveled at our intelligence and our great desire to study. He says we are, without doubt, the quietest class he’s ever had the pleasure of presenting diplomas to. We’ve never given him the least bit of trouble and we’ll be among the first on his list of precious memories. As we are soon to go out on our own diamond and try our many different outfields, our fondest dream is that the envious freshmen will follow in our foot- prints on the sand of time. As for our destination, who knows? Our talents are unlimited. Of course in two years the girls may be at home washing baby diapers with one hand, whipping Junior with the other and peeling potatoes with their big toes. We boys may be from sun-up to sun-down following these animals called mules. Jackasses, anyway something with four legs that you plow dirt with. However, time will tell so let’s just sit back and wait, huh? Donald Rowell