Central High School - Centralia Yearbook (Bay City, MI)

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page nineteen JUNE CLASS WILL I, Don Picard, do leave my place in the shoe store to anyone who has contracted worn-out shoes. I, Max Presser, do cheerfully bequeath my weak mind and weaker will power on Roddy Mulholland. 1, Tom Heed, do bequeath my “Fat Boy” title to Howard Lentz. I, Fritz Reer, do sadly give my place in the center of Central’s stalwart football line to Bob Fisher. I. Ron Remington, do leave my ability to paint signs to anyone of Miss Eicholtz favorite pupils. I, Nyles Roedel, having nothing, will not attempt to bestow something I haven’t got. I, Arnold Roth, do leave my backward and quiet disposition to Charles Doty. I, Lawrence Roth, do bequeath my ability to graduate without learning anything to John Hargadorn. I, Hunter Saunier, do bequeath, leave, and give my musical inclinations to Paul Robertson. I, Lewis Sawden, do leave my “Chevy” to my worst enemy. I. Herbert Schafer, do leave a regret for not being elected to Agathos. I, Howard Schindler, do leave my habit of talking without saying anything to Thelma Houk. I. Emil Schmidt, do bequeath my retiring ways to Clarence Burton. I, Frank Smith, do leave my brains to anyone who can take a joke. I, Curtis Stoutenberg, do leave my place in the band to anyone who is as windy as I am. I, Edward Secor, do leave my English books to Miss Bothe with many thanks. I, Clifford Swanson, do leave with a regret that there are no more Peaisall sisters. I. Wesley Timm, do leave my position as President of Agathos to Linal Bailey. I, Russel Toeppner, do leave school 10 find Bettina. I, Charles Wanless, am leaving in a hurry before they find something to hold me back for again. I, Lloyd Wells, do leave my ability to be not there when wanted to Charles Wilson. I, George Wetters, do leave my habit of sleeping in class to Ed Nemode. I. Howard Whitehead, do leave my place on the debating team to Ruth Langworthy. I, Joe Wiley, do leave my ability to get along with the teachers to Jim Richards. I, Gerald Wilkie, being in my right mind, do therefore, with out malice or forethought, leave, to anyone who can carry it off—nothing. I. Richard Wilt, do leave my portly figure to “Runt” Watson. I, Robert Wood, do bequeath my position on the Centralia staff to anyone who thinks he is big enough to fill it. I, Louis Zess, having reached a great height, do leave it to Bill Anderson. We, Dominic Wisniewski and Henry Zielinski, leave, to the teachers, the consoling thought that they no longer have to pronounce our names. I, Felix Zook, do leave “Boots” so the boys will not get lonesome. I, Madeline Anthony, do leave my imagination to my sister, June. 1, Muriel Bligh, do leave my secret passion for the opposite sex to Elizabeth Heath. I, Ardra Ballard do leave my blond hair to any Freshie wishing to bee me a blond. I, Naomi Blumenau, do leave my slow and easy manners to Marion Eddy. I, Florence Carpenter, do leave my position in the Public Library. I, Stephania Ceglar k, do bequeath my bashfulness to Katherine Allen. I, Lois Coplin, do leave my handsome and quiet ways to any Soph lacking these qualities. I. Margaret Fone, do leave my book on “How to Get Along with the Teachers” to Lawrence LaMarre. I, Esther Schweitzer, do leave my natural ability to play the role of a naughty little orphan in “Daddy Long Legs” to anyone who can act kiddish as naturally as I can. I, Viola Dearden, do bequeath my dancing ability to Margaret Nickless. I, Loretta Findley, do bequeath my ambling gait to Eleanor Fenske. I, Emiline Anderson, am leaving school —is not that enough? I, Velvetta Clarambeau, do leave my auburn curls to Emily Baker. I, Mary Craves, do leave my senior privileges to any 12B who yearns for them. I, Lorena Delude, am leaving to join Jerry, at last. I, Kathryn Dunlavey, do leave memories of my marvelous voice to the long-suffering faculty. I. Wilma Hammond, do leave my studious disposition to Dorothy Sovey.

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JUNE CLASS WILL We, the June Class of 1931, having breathlessly emerged from a three year’s struggle through that bewildering and confusing maze known as Central High School, now find ourselves on that peerless and seemingly unattainable height reserved only for the Seniors. Surprising as it may seem, we find ourselves still sane of mind and sound of body, and with a tendancy towards generosity. The struggle has been well worth the while, for from our lofty pinnacle we can now 'look down upon the squirming undergraduates, and, with our well known school spirit, we cannot help but feel a kindliness of heart towards them—the poor struggling Freshies, especially. Therefore, being of the aforesaid generous disposition, and possessing a really kindly spirit unde -our sophisticated appearance, we do hereby make, publish, and declare our last will and testament. After the payment of our just debts, expenses of probate, and inheritance taxes of every name and nature, we do hereby jointly give, devise and bequeath our cherished possessions in the following manner: To Mr. Keen, our esteemed principal, we leave fond memories of our illustrious class, knowing full well that it can never be excelled or even equalled. To Miss Beese we leave well-deserved peace and tranquillity—until the next Senior Class invades Room 235. To our sponsors, Miss Ballamy and Mr. Garlock, who have so patiently and sympathetically assisted us in all we have done, we bequeath a carload of patience and sympathy to renew the supply which we have almost exhausted. To the 12B’s we leave our much-abused Senior Privileges, and the unquestioned right of the Seniors to loaf. To the Juniors we leave the privilege of becoming the Senior Class of ’32, hoping that the two years’ association with us will have its due influence upon them. To the Sophs, we leave as a model, the unequaled example of our scholarly attainments, knowing full well they can never attain such heights—but -t is well to try. To the so-called “Freshies”—a well-chosen name—we can leave nothing but sympathy and fervent hopes for the best until they prove themselves worthy of receiving such articles as we possess. And now, in our last will and testament we do individually dispose of our personal belongings: I, Robert Anthonison, do will my privilege of going anywhere, at any time, without Miss Beese’ permission, to Paul Harvey. We, Albert Baker and Andy Karpus, do leave our ability of keeping out of trouble and our many ten-minute lunch periods to “Fifi” Ensminger and Steve Glaza. I, Edwin Bennett (The Mighty), do will some of my excess height to Arthur Reed, who seems to need it badly. I, Francis Barnett, do bequeath my sane-tified name of “Sonny” to any Freshman who will maintain its high standing. I, Howard Bissland, do cheerfully bequeath my extensive knowledge of Chemistry to any future student of the same. I, John Bluhm, do leave to my old pal, Andy Nickels, my ability to rewrite Chaucer. I, Howard Brown, am leaving the auditorium switchboard to Mr. Yeakey, who has always seemed to want it. I, George Butterfield, do hereby will the long list of broken-hearted girls that I am leaving at Central to my brother Ira. I. Robert Carter, am leaving the school —it’s too big to take with me. I, Clarence Clohset, do will my unfound chemical honors to anyone find ng them. I, Raymond Coon, do will my scholastic honors end and any other things of no value to the Freshies. I, Frank Corven Dallons, do will my fuzzy coat to any boy having a yen for “willie-worms”. I, George Drescher, do donate another record to Central—that of the world’s champion walker. I, Carl Dueweke, do leave sighs of leaving. I, George Duffy, do bequeath my carrot-hued top-piece to some young man desiring to be conspicuous. I, Robert Ekstrom, having mastered the art of running a Model T, will impart the essential knowledge to some kind-hearted person who will take it off my hands.

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JUNE CLASS WILL page twenty I, Harold Elbinger, am leaving school to become a first class druggist—if you want a soda, a sandwich, soft drinks, ice cream, or anything except medicine—see me. I, Henry Feldman, do leave leave behind me thoughts of that Oral English triumph, “Enter the Hero”. I, Gedney Fenton, do leave my many positions as treasurer, as well as my Boy Scout medals to my successors in these offices. I, Jack Ferris, do leave my grades as a fitting mark for the 12B’s. I, Harold Fogg, do leave to Ferdinand Gust my many French horn blasts. I, Walter Frasz, do bequeath my stainless reputation as a good little bay to James Carver. We, Clarence Gibson and Eugene Hel miniak, are at last leaving peace and quiet among the teachers. I, Lawrence Gillion, do donate my past achievements—good or bad—to any student who will take the trouble to look them up fo me. I, Harry Goulet, do wi.l my shorthand papers to the girl calling for them at my locker—first come, first served. I, Kenneth Halstead, do donate stray parts of my model T to the Auto Mechanics Department. I am suie they will find that my car was no ordinary one when they v.e these parts. I, Ernest Hartley, being a chemist of some repute, do will my experience in mixing sodium and chlorine with results, to any coming chemist. I, Robert Hiler, do leave memories of my winning ways with Fords, to Martin Schnit-ler. I, Kenneth Hill, do will my ability to rattle off memory selections to John Mallet. I. Sam Kasner, do leave my extensive knowledge of “math” to the Mathematics Department to pass over the heads of future generations. I, Chet Kazmierski, do hereby bequeath my title of “chemist” to any spiring freshie —long may he perspire! I, Morris Kruelen, do bequeath three yards of my excessive legs to Ponnie Glaza. I, Gilbert Kolb, do leave remembrances of my musical self to Mr. Evans. I, Lyle LaBerge, am leaving school at last—hope to run for president next year. I, Ernest I.aetz, do leave my ability to lead my classmates through their freshman year to the despondent Freshie president. I, Elmer Lange, do leave Virginia— though unwillingly. We, Stanley Lenarsic and Milton Levine, leave school with a reputation of nothing ventured and less gained. I, Birdsey Learman, do leave grace—for your approval. I, Jerome Levine, do leave excess proportions to Pee Wee Brancheau. I, Eugene Lewis, do willfully bestow’ rr.y curly hair on Mr. Dalzell. I, Louis List, do leave my band suit to anyone who can do justice to it. I. Carl lock, am leaving a vacant chair and hope that the years which are to come will provide as peaceful a resting place. I, Russell Lohr, do leave my physical undevelopment to Bob Allman. I, Lynn MacPhail, the President of this lofty class of Seniors, do, w ith pleasure, leave this honored position to someone with the strong constitution which this office requires. I, Ed Martin, can only say “Thanks” to the teachers for their part in my graduation. I, Ed Martin, being strong in mind, leave the following advice to Rip Gallagher and Tom Oliver: “Never worry about your studies; make the teachers do it—that’s what they’re paid for.” We, Harold Shotwell and Bob Humphrey, do leave Peg and Mid to console each other after our departure. I, Minard Matson, do bequeath my many accomplishments to my brother, Carl. I, Ray Newcombe, do leave my winning ways with the fair sex to Brother Larry. I, Bill Merritt, do gladly give my nickname of “Snoozer” to the entire Freshman class—they more than deserve it. We, Don and Adolph Nowak, do leave our wdnsome ways to Turner Pero and Brad Billings. I, Ralph Nuechterlein, am leaving this place of confinement because our old horse has just “cashed in”. I, Hugh Oakley, do leave my ability to croon sentimental love-songs to the girls to Scott Gibson. I, Palmer Rudolph Orthner, do leave my reputation of “the parson’s son gone wild” to Elmer Timm. I, Stan Pangborn, do bestow some of my super-supply of “It” on the world’s most famous heart-crusher—Ken McCann.