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

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STROLLED down the Calle de Alcala in Madrid on a bright morning in the summer of 1940. At the corner I turned and was crossing the Puerta del Sol, when I noticed an inviting resting place from which I could study the many different types of people that assembled here. A ragged newsboy was yelling ‘‘El Imparcial”, “El Nuevo Mundo”, “El Liberal”. I tossed him a quarter, picked up “El Liberal” and the boy walked on. As I glanced over the headlines my eyes fell on the following ' ords—“Senorita Perlie, Una Gran Mujer de America.” Ah! these words brought back fond remembrances of one of my dearest classmates of 1923. There were so many things in my life of late that I had not given much thought to my school days. I had spent ten years traveling, taking interest in “how the other half of the world lives”, without meeting one of my classmates. I was happy to think that Senorita Perlie was a celebrated teacher in the Uni¬ versity of Seville. “Pm going to see her,” I murmured in a determined manner. Two weeks later I visited the romantic city of Seville. While dining at a noted inn, a stately, dignified looking woman touched me on the arm. I turned and gazed at “La Gran Mujer de America,” and now “La Gran Mujer de Espana”. We finished dinner together, all the while talking of the days gone by. How we used to enjoy Spanish in our school days, while we never dreamed we should ever meet in Spain! “Carmella, do you know anything of any of our classmates?” I asked. “Yes, three of them. When I left for Spain last year. Wash was driving a ‘Radio-auto ' between Cloverdale and Sausalito.” “A Radio-what?” “Why, Mary, haven ' t you heard of the new bus recently invented by T. V. Barry? Wash had the honor of being the first bus driver to purchase one. It has all kinds of modern conveniences on it and can carry fifty passengers.” “Does he ever run out of gas?” “Oh no, it is run by radio.” [ 12 ]

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much because we were truly upperclassmen. We no longer looked upon the Seniors with awe. Much of our time was spent in school activities because we thought it was great sport to do more than the Seniors. In athletics and in social activities we tried to keep up with them while they forged ahead with great vim, conscious of the fact that they were the largest class that ever held the Senior place in C. H. S. In June we bade them a fond farewell. We had already laid plans for the coming year because we realized it would be our greatest. We had at last reached the top, although our goal was still a year away. This year has been a very enjoyable one, and as it gradually draws to a close and we are about to leave C. H. S. we think more than ever of the good times we have had and the loyal friendships we have enjoyed. We shall always remember this as four happy years of work and play. We have high ambitions which we expect to carry out. We intend to be among those to whom greatness comes, not accidentally but as reward for work well done. Spring Fever vs. Amlbition Oh gee! I hate to leave my gate. To wend my way to school today. Just now I feel as if rd keel Right up and die without a sigh, For Tm a Spring fever. You just watch me and you will see Tm bent on work and will not shirk. Tve got a plan by which Til span The Golden Gate, just you wait. For Tm Ambition. —McAbee ' 25. [ 11 ]

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' ‘And—Aldice? ' “He ' s not called Aldice Saunders any more but Professor A. Saunders of Knox College. “Where in the world is that? In Galesburg, Illinois. That reminds me. I have the ‘Gale ' of 1939 with his picture in it. I believe I have it here in my grip. In a few minutes she handed me the “Gale. I opened it and there on the front page I beheld the portrait of the honored “Professor. He specialized in science and was publishing a weekly magazine called “Bugs of Importance. “Where is dear little Bernice? I asked, overjoyed with the strange things I was hearing. She was graduated from Mills College with high honors. After teaching for five years in New York she sailed for France. She also made quite a success of music. I have heard many comments on how she speaks French perfectly. “How wonderful, I exclaimed. I always knew Bernice would fulfill our expectations. I regretted being compelled to leave Spain and my classmate, but I must see home once more. Two months later I was back in sunny California. One evening, as I was walking down Market Street in San Francisco, something made me stop, look, listen. A familiar voice was floating out upon the evening breeze. What a wonderful voice! Never before had I heard anything sweeter! I stopped at the Examiner office to find out the location of the radio station where this girl was singing. “In Cloverdale! Why, Betty has stayed with dear old Cloverdale and here she is, brightening everyone ' s life with her thrilling voice. I hastened down to the ferry and boarded Wash ' s bus. In an hour I was in Cloverdale. What inventions and time will do! I hardly recognized my home town. As I walked up West Street taking in the new sights, I stopped in front of a charming home. It was simply magnificent, encircled by trees laden with golden oranges, by glossy palms, green lawns and well planned walks. While standing there fascinated by its beauty, I saw a familiar face among the bril¬ liant flowers. The cheerful schoolday smile was still present. In a few minutes I met face to face with my musical classmate. After bubbling over with joy at seeing me, she asked me into her parlor, where she promised me a surprise. When we were comfortably seated, the maid dimmed the lights, pulled down a white wall screen on ball-bearing rollers, and set graduated knobs placed in the wall, like electric push-buttons. “Now, Miss Bassetti, what do you wish to see? she said. Imagine the expression of wonder and expectation on my face. “Never mind; I have a parlor radio program here. The first number is something you surely will enjoy. On the screen before me all kinds of things were happening. First, Miss McPherson ' s cartoons entitled, “A Man Minus His Wife. “Mary, didn’t you know that Berneice is in Los Angeles working as a cartoonist for the newspaper called, ‘Modern Wonders ' ? exclaimed Betty. Her cartoons are the best in the world, therefore the only ones to be shown on radio screens. [ 13 ]