Cloverdale Union High School - Spectator Yearbook (Cloverdale, CA)

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3lu ' (SHi Urn ' anil (iolb Near the glorious Russian River With its wealth of legend rare; As the school we all shall cherish, As the school to us so fair, We have seen her growth and progress And with spirit free and bold We declare our firm allegiance, To the Old Blue and Gold. While the grand historic river Rolls to the ocean wide, May reverses ne’er befall thee And misfortune ne’er betide; For our hearts are filled with gladness When thy banners we behold And we pray for countless blessings, To the old Blue and Gold. Though the years in quick succession Roll away to come no more And we wander, never straying Every land and ocean o’er. We will still recall with gladness Happy days we spent of old When we marched beneath the Banners of the Old Blue and Gold. Written for Cloverdala Union High School by Professor Way of Petaluma, California. 17

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eye. “Ray Butler, champion ball pitcher, wins more laurels ’ I was not surprised at this for it had been prophecied in our school days. As I stood reading it. a familiar voice called, “Well, Cloverdale, how are you?” and turning, I beheld Zola Hotell dressed in the height of fashion and looking very happy and the young man with her she said was her husband. Nothing would do but that I should go home with them. As we walked along she told me what she knew of the old school chums. Jasper Miller was very busy in the dairy business, having be¬ come disgusted with the chicken industry while in Cloverdale. Ruth Belcher was now a leading member of the Pacific Tele¬ phone Company. Louise Wilson was a bookkeeper in a large wholesale store in San Francisco. Thelma Thompson was now running a millinery establish¬ ment and was called “Madame Clemente, from France.” Ruby Rolling and Elvinah Walker were becoming prominent chorus girls. Phillip Prell had become professor of German in a large and famous university. Lucretia Weythman was a trained nurse and a second “Lady Nightingale.” Elmer Thompson had become a motorcyclist and had gained great renown in these races. Luella Roberts had married and settled down in a little town called Laytonville. Marvin Read had become a famous architect and was known the world over. Lola Shelford, the last but not less loved of my school chums, had opened a girls’ boarding school which was fast winning renown. Then all faded from my view and suddenly the red glow of the fire brought me back to life again and, though it had only been a dream, I was satisfied to leave the lives of my friends as I had seen them. , 16

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The Stricken City by Moonlight On Tuesday night, just seven days after the earthquake and tire that destroyed San Francisco I crossed from Berkeley to the ruined city. I was returning from an errand done in the service of the Red Cross and passed through the devasted area to the headquarters. I stepped from the boat to the Ferry Building with but few companions, and while they dispersed to their destinations in distant parts of the unburned suburbs, I gave the countersign to the sentinel and entered the burned out area. But few men have beheld a scene like the one I saw that night. Alone I passed among the ruins. Up Market Street I went where a week before life flowed in its fullness; now silent and covered with debris. Down this same Street we had marched on Saturday, the hot pavements and glowing embers reminding me that we had fought in vain for the preservation of the city. What a march that was! Every man was awed into a realization of his own insignificance. No sound save the swish and tread of our feet in the ashes. Each gripped his musket and choked down a sob as the tears came to his eyes. No soldiers ever felt a keener sense of defeat than we did on that Saturday marching through the ruins of the Beloved City we could not save. To the south of Market I cast a hurried glance. It was most¬ ly burned bare. The flimsy wooden structures had gone up like dried grass before the fire. In this part, on Wednesday morning, the soldiers and police had to exert themselves to their utmost to save the people. Westward, for a score of blocks from the waterfront a wall of roaring fire had driven the in- 18