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Page 30 text:
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24 THE CHINOOK BREEZE May. 1932 proved to be a philosophical discussion written by a Madame La Salle. Josephine told me that that was an alibi used by Gladys Hottenstein. Well. I always knew Gladys had brains, but I wondered how anyone ever got anything out of the book. It was too deep for me! There were two more surprises awaiting me In Helena. On a street corner one evening. I saw a very energetic Salvation Army lassie. It was Lillian Hallenberger. I thot she planned to be a nurse, and so had she until she met a dashing, handsome Salvation Army Captain. We were very glad to see one another again. 1 complimented her on her good work and she seemed pleased. She said that she had a very able assistant in Annie Simpson who was also supertintendent of an Orphans’ home in Helena. I had to spend a few moments, too. with Annie to talk over old times. She informed me that an old friend of hers. Marion Streeter was professor of the world’s most famous chemistry laboratory in Zurich. I gathered, however, that Marions attentions had wandered. I decided that I had seen enough of Montana and went on out to Seattle. On my way out. I was looking thru a magazine to pass the time of day. In that I discovered an article written by Jean Sands, who had become the president of a humane society for dumb animals. She was pleading for funds with which to carry on the work, so I concluded that the training Jean had received on the annual staff had served her well. With that, my gypsy friend came out of her trance and I came to with a start, realizing that after all it was only May, 1932. But I wonder what will be the fate of the members of the class of ’32? I wonder if any of these gypsy ravings will come true? But time will tell and in the meantime, “life goes on.” Class Epitaph (After Goldsmith) Here lie the good Seniors whose genius was such We scarcely can blame it or praise it too much; Who, born for distinction, perfected their mind And. fraught with all learning, gave joy to mankind. They were equal to all things, for nothing unfit. They were pleased with their culture and proud of their wit. They are missed by their classmates, their teachers as well. Who their virtues and wisdom now tearfully tell. They died of brain fever, brought on by delight. In their fourth year of age on commencement night. They are glad to be gone to a new world, alack! If we could when we pleased, we’d not whistle them back. But let us be candid and speak out our mind. Their equal as students ’twill be hard to find, And in peace may they lie, our good Seniors, who now Have taken their finals and made their last bow. Class Poem Borne high on every Chinook breeze. Over the busy lanes and streets. What is that cry that seems to seize Each member of the class it meets? What are the wondering words that lurk Deep in the eyes of all we pass?— “Seniors, ’to what end do you work?”— “Ich dien’!—I serve!” replies the class. From out the busy haunts of men. Where all aspiring lives are seen. We feel a world’s eyes turn again. Unto our class—1932. From Chinook High School they may well Expect all worth with none to swerve From principles they proudly tell. In noble words—“Ich dien’!—I serve!” The High School watches with a smile; Our teachers guide each faltering aim; Alumni look on all the while For added laurels to their fame; With tender faith in us. they give That same old question, eye to eye. “Come, students, for what do you live?”— Tch dien’!—I serve!” is our reply. It is the duty of the great To serve the men of smaller mind; Those best endowed are sent by Fate To lift the weaker one behind; We who are here made strong and wise Must answer, steeled in will and nerve— Tell us wherein your effort lies!” We bravely cry. “Ich dien’!—1 serve!” And from the heavens so fair above. We sense the ever-watching eye; The angels of eternal love Are brooding o’er us from on high; They understand each struggle weak. Each wish, each aim, each rise and fall; “Children, for what good do you seek?” “Ich dien’!—I serve!” reply we all. Senior Honor Roll GLADYS HOTTENSTEIN—Valedictorian EDNA MARK HOLM—Salutatorian DALE WATKINS JAMES THOMPSON JOSEPHINE SHARPLES ROSA RUNNION ANNIE SIMPSON HELEN JONES JEAN SANDS LILLIAN HOLST VERLON COX GERHART OBIE ELAIN GOODMAN
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Page 29 text:
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May, 1932 THE CHINOOK BREEZE 23 lectly in front of me. It seemed as tho that piano fell into a thousand pieces. I couldn’t imagine what musician could be so tempermental as that, when Maurice Powell came bounding out followed by Fred Tharp. Fred was becceching Maurice to come back and play his scales before the professor came back. I didn’t dare interrupt such a display of temper and temperament so I walked on. I found out later that the hard boiled professor was Pete Pyette. After so much sight seeing, I discovered I was hungry and I decided I would try out Berlin’s most exclusive cabaret. I entered a most beautiful place. Afte: I had been seated and was looking the place over, I saw a dark, handsome man strolling about in a leisurely manner. To my surprise it was James Thompson. I hadn’t expected to see him in such a place, but I had to admit that he was the type to draw exclusive trade. I caught his eye and beckoned to him. He recognized me and came over at once. He told me that he owned the place and was doing exceptionally well. Just then a group of dancers came out on the floor. 1 noticed something familiar about an auburn haired girl in the group. James told me that she was Lillian Holst, and was the most popular dancer in Berlin. I was very happy to hear that she had become so successful. After an old fashioned chat with both. I left, feeling that the world wasn’t such a large place alter all. I decided I couldn’t leave Europe without seeing Venice. It met ail my expectations. Venice is a city of romance, and that has always attracted me. I spent as much time as possible in a gondola on the Grand Canal. It gave me a chance to rest and observe life. One evening when I was on the canal. I heard two voices singing in English. That attracted me and to my good fortune both gondolas docked at the same pier. I felt as tho something was going to happen and as I turned I saw Edna Markholm and Rosa Rnnnion getting out of the other gondola. They told me that they owned many gondolas and had a flourishing business. I asked them how they could run that type of business without the aid of men, but they declared that all men were fickle and that women were superior to men in business anywray. I wondered if there had been some disappointment in the past, but they looked happy and contented, so I let the matter drop. They told me that Margaret Jacobsen was a mannequin in one of the most exclusive shops in Paris. From Venice I made my way leisurely across the Mediterranean Sea thru the Suez Canal. I stopped w'here ever fancy dictated. I enjoyed my trip thru the Orient, but was constantly on the look out for familiar faces. I didn’t see anyone until I reached Tokyo, Japan. There, to my surprise, I discovered Vanda Ames running a first class beauty parlor. She said at times she was homesick for her old friends but that she couldn’t imagine living in the United States again. I set sail from Tokyo to Hawaii. I had been in Honolulu just a short time when I discovered that the most popular hostess in the city w'as Julia Nolan, an old class-mate of mine. She had married a wealthy sugar planter and was very happy. I called upon her and she invited me to stay with her. I had a wonderful time there. Julia is famous throughout the islands for her hospitality. To my surprise, I found among the house guests at Julia’s another classmate. Agnes Monson. I remembered Agnes as a very shy, timid girl, but at that time she had the reputation for being the greatest flirt in Honolulu. I hated to tear myself away from such pleasant surroundings, but I felt I had to get back home. I made the trip to New' York via the Panama Canal. I felt lonesome when I arrived at New York for there was no one to welcome me except the statue of Liberty. There are times w'hen I wish 1 wasn’t such v. solitary creature! I was just going to engage a taxi when someone called my name. I spun about, surprised to thin that some one recognized me, and there by a cab stood Mildred Phelan. She looked very nifty in her trim uniform. She explained that she needed a change of atmosphere and wfas attempting to run down all the police force and pedestrians in the city. She suggested that she take me down tow'n so 1 got into her cab. As we drove up Fifth Avenue, I fully expected that her aim was about to be realized. I’ve never had such a wild, reckless ride. Little did I dream in the olden days that Mildred would ever he anything but sensible and law' abiding. I was much relieved w'hen I saw Mildred drawing up to the curb, for once more my life had been spared. She stopped at the Metropolitan Art Gallery and insisted that I go in to see some paintings. I really wasn’t in a frame of mind to view' works of art, but I followed her. The sight that met my gaze was astonishing. Such a mixture of colors I had never seen before. I started to ask who w'as responsible for such art. when a familiar name in the corner met my eye. The artist was none other than Warren Dorn. He had taken the country by storm. After our stop at the Art Gallery. I spent a few' hours visiting with Mildred. She was able to tell ine oI other of our classmates. Schumann Heinck’s place has been taken by Elain Goodman. I always knew she had talent, but never surmised she would become so famous. She had as her traveling companion and accompanist, Bernice King. I heard that Roy Maney was the president of a Theological Seminary in Ireland. Wonders never cease! 1 also heard that his former finance, Roz-eltha Gibbs, has taken up artistry, the famous process of painting cats with white stripes and then selling the furs. As I had been gone on my trip for so long, I decided I’d like to see what had happened in the old home state during my absence. In Helena. I met Josephine Sharpies. She was the Governor’s private secretary and very prosperous looking. I asked her for news of old friends and she told me that Dale Watkins had located in Helena. I remembered that Dale Watkins had been interested in medicine, but I w’as very much surprised to hear that he had turned out to be a quack doctor. The medical authorities wfere trying to get him out of town, but Dale held on. In Josephine’s collection of books, one caught my eye. It w’as entitled. Paradise Lost in 1950.” It
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Page 31 text:
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May. 1932 THE CHINOOK BREEZE 25 CLASS SONG 1932 is here; Our year is ending; All of its hope and fear Tn victory blending; Yet, as we pass, wo say, Sad as we sever, “Chinook forever! Chinook forever!” Great things are done for us— Science, mathematics— Large victories won of us— Strong in athletics! Brave in debate are we, Won each endeavor!— “Chinook forever! Chinook forever!” Now as we leave the halls, I ifo’s voice inviting, Loud every student calls, Fondly uniting, “Farewell, 1932, To return never! Farewell forever! Farewell forever!” When We Were Sophomores
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