Chester High School - Reflector Yearbook (Chester, VA)

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One drowsy summer day, as I wandered on the pine-carpeted floor of the great forest of the future, I suddenly came upon a faint path that covered a trace of mystery. Following it, I came upon an old hollow tree heavy with fresh green leaves. Being very tired and weary, I decided to rest at the base of the old tree. When I leaned back against the tree, the trunk proved to be a door to Father Time’s abode, and I found myself staring the old man straight in the face. “Why I remember you—,” he said. ‘‘Way back in ’41 when you were a senior at Chester High School, I planned your future as well as that of your classmates!” “Oh! So you’re the one to whom I owe my joy and sorrow!” With an understanding gri n he replied, ““Yes—and it seems as though you and your classmates have made the best of your opportunities.” “Please tell me how fate has treated my classmates!” I asked. “T’ll do better than that,” he proudly replied. “I'll give you a brief glimpse of your classmates as they are today, ten years after leaving Chester.” Before I could answer, I found myself looking into the studios of a world-famous artist whom I recognized as James Bartle. He has gone far since leaving Chester. His pictures hang in galleries all over the world! As I was about to speak to him, I was whisked away and immed iately found myself face to face with Carl Sherman who was, of all things, the mayor of Smalltown! I wanted to talk to him, but my attention was diverted by a shiney sheriff s badge to which Garland Langster was pinned. Starting madly to cross the street, I found myself in the path of an on- coming taxi-cab which was driven by none other Charles “Trip Busty” Brown. Bang! Everything went black!!! Although I had only minor scratches at the worst, I was rushed to the nearest hospital. While I was waiting my turn in the emergency room, a nurse, whom I recognized as Martha Goodwyn, entered to assure me that Dr. Ernest Gates, who was performing a delicate operation on the throat of the great singer, Frances Quaiff, (Will she recover? That is the ques- tion!) would soon be down. After Dr. Gates had administered first aid he took me on a tour of the hospital. I passed Mavis Howard who Dr. Gates said was the new superintendent; he also said Marjorie Hunt had recently been appointed superintendent of the operating room. Walking ., the corridor, I glanced into a small room and saw an intern setting a small child’s leg. The child was accompanied by his mother, the former Martha Landrum of our school days. The intern looked familiar— “he Reflec tor con thirty

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Section 4. To the Glee Club, we will an extra month in which they can practice for the ‘Music Festival.” Section 5. To the “C” Club, we will a convenient place where they can have their meetings. Section 6. To the Government Club, we will a trip to Washington— the nice trip we planned and didn’t take. Section 7. To the newspaper Staff, we will a group of reporters who will get their news in on time. ARTICLE V Section 1. To the Football Team, we will many successful games next year under the powerful direction of our new coach. Section 2. To the Baseball Team, we will a lovely season so their games games won’t be interrupted by sudden storms and bad weather. Section 3. To the Track Team, we will a “real team” which will always be victorious. Section 4. To the Girls’ Basketball Team, we will much luck in the gymnasium—which we hope they’ll have next year. To one and all, we leave the memories of a pleasant high school career as has been ours in the past. In testimony whereof, we have written and signed and do declare this to be our Last Will and Testament. (Signed) THE SENIOR CLASS OF 1941 The following, by special request, have consented to act as witnesses: Beowulf Patsy Harrington Spike McFoodle pa twenty-nine “The Refle Ves tor

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why, no wonder! It was Gilbert Martin! While I was walking down- stairs, Ernest told me that another of my schoolmates was his dietician. She was none other than Alma Traylor. Glancing at the clock, I found it necessary to hasten my departure; so I proceeded down the street with Father Time. Catching a bus driven by Vernon Neblett at the street corner, I went downtown and proceeded to engage a room at a modern hotel. I was wel- comed by the hotel hostess, who turned out to be Beatrice Vaughan. Imagine my surprise to find Lynwood Tiller as desk clerk! After greeting me, he enlightened me to the fact that the hotel manager was Henry Spiers. When I decided to eat dinner, my waitress turned out to be Katherine Cousins. In answer to my inquiry, she informed me that the hotel had recently been re-decorated by Cornelia Lowe and Mary Fisher—lInterior Decorators, Inc., from New York City. After a restful night on mattresses from the W. J. Underwood Mattress Company and a delightful breakfast cooked by Chef Thomas Wilmoth, I settled down in an easy chair to read the daily paper edited by Louise Garton. Of course, I turned first to the funnies, and there I found Spike McFoodle drawn by George Jinkins—Jinx and his brain-child seem to be doing very well! Upon reading further, I found an advertisement for a famous concert at which Anlouise Brand would play. In small print under the advertise- ment, I discovered that Billy Pickhardt’s successful theatrical agency was sponsoring this concert. The fashion page edited by none other than Lily Hancock—why, she was the best dressed in our class! Turning next to the sports page, which I found to be edited by Levi Johnson, I noticed a picture of Hillebrand Jones who will again play pro- fessional football this fall. In the meantime, Coach Edward Isbell is seeing that his star player doesn’t break training. “ROSE MARTIN TO BE NEW COACH AT WILLIAM AND MARY” —was the next headline that greeted my eyes. She succeeds Jane Goyne, who has taken up the holy bonds of matrimony. I also noticed a baseball score—Philadelphia Athletics, 14; Washing- ton Senators, 10. Much to my surprise I discovered that Luther Chandler was coaching the “Phillies” and was supported by his players, Louis Farmer and Lee Johnson. Suddenly the radio blared forth and I heard a melodious voice, which I recognized as John Kellam’s, announcing: ‘‘Duane Curtis and Her Sum- mary of the News” from South America sponsored by the Ethel Birdsong Cold Cream Company. Deciding to get some fresh air, I walked slowly down the shady side of Main Street. In dropping by the library, I spied Louise Beckner behind the desk. After talking with her a while, I started looking over the books. I was very pleased to find a novel written by Carolyn Putney. Her ambi- tions have at last been realized. Glancing through the book, I found it to be illustrated by Mary Thornton. Louise called my attention to an auto- biography—“US”—by two veterans of the old days in the R. A. F., Frank Curtis and Philbert Neatrour. Father Time, who had been lurking in the background, beckoned me on once more. Passing by the school several blocks down the street, I ae thirty-one “Whe Reflec tor