Collinwood High School - Railroader Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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Dumb Dora’s Musings {Continued) a crush on someone or someone’s brother. I think Carl Weber just about broke all records as a lady-killer and if I’m not mistaken he has always been tops as has Winifred Lindsay. The Wapikas got their start in the 10B which meant one thing to most of the girls—Ili-Y parties. No one came with the same person twice in succession so they were always loads of fun. Joe Penner influenced our speech but I’m inclined to believe we sounded more like Joe’s duck than Joe. Jean Perz must have given up lugging that briefcase at this tender age too. Lois Quiggin of the long curls became Lois of the bobbed hair. She used to look about ten years old with those curls and did she go over big. Feb. ’36 to Jan. ’37. We started our own dance club and “Papa” Rowlands tried to make us look the picture of grace and ease. We didn’t like the idea, though, ’cause Grace wasn’t very pretty. Sniff! (You’re right it was a puny pun). People started to find out who Mil Johnston was—A1 Stone saw her first and kept squatters rights for a long time—until June Arnold came along. Johnny Kaminski l)ecame a mad scientist; he’s still a — bit mad. Ahem!—Football and basketball players broke into print. Not much else I guess. Feb. ’37 to Jan. ’38. Starting with our first bang-up affair—12B-12A courtesy dance. The l2A’s l eat us for attendance but then we had to pay for our tickets. Disturbing thought: Does Shiner MacRaild need that blank expression to do the “Big Apple?” Silly Simile: As foolish as A1 Klivington carrying a dictionary. Many thanks to the girl who snapped Ed Cotman out of his bashfulness. Things that made my blood boil: Tom Kinney forgetting there were some 200 in the 12A class besides himself.—12B prom scheduled for the same night that the circus came to town—no justice on this clump of earth we live on. Bob Jones became THE man of the hour. Personal observation: Some of the people with long service records in the annual have done nothing but sleep through classes and walk the halls the rest of the day. Be seeing you at the class reunions to have more fun—and we have had fun haven’t we? Until next we meet, remember me for I'll remember you.

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B Darwina Dt Marzy I HARDLY know how to begin for it’s really the end (only of writing this column, however). It’ll seem queer not having it in the Spotlight each week, not having people wish they could throw things at me, and not having Hating worship the ground I walk on—Grrr! Guess the theme song for this piece of literature is Time Marches Backwards—or something or other. Feb. ’32 to Jan. ’33. We trooped into the school set to ! e like Julius Caesar who came, saw, and conquered. If I remember correctly we got as far as the “I came, I saw” part. However, Rome wasn’t built in a day so why should we have hurried. Ah, those were the good old days when “specials” at the cafeteria were twelve cents and Bob Whittaker used to smile. (Once in a while he smiles for Irene MacBride). ’Member how the fellows used to lay bets as to how many words Miss Juanita Jones could say a minute? (Gosh, what a mouthful!) The hall scales used to work then too. The most unforget-able incident: Ross Christiansen falling from a chair and receiving a gash on the head. Result? The Ross of today—need I say more? Feb. ’33 to Jan. ’34. 1 can remember when: The girls were beginning to curl their hair (they got a kinky-looking mess) and the lx ys got all dressed up in their new suits and Sunday shoes for the school parties. I don’t think I’ll ever forget their “count system” at the dances. You know—one, two, three; one. two, three; walk, walk. (Not that any of us girls were any better). That was the year the girls wanted something to do at the football games and how they trained. Every tenth period found them in the old bicycle room with Alva Hoffman who tried to show them how to squat and cheer at the same time. Big Junior “news scoops were snatched by Gertie Satterlee. Little did she realize she was going to lx? “snatched” by G. Benzin.—Never to be forgotten moments: Those spent in winking at Jack Berry in Social Studies (Regular cut-ups!) Feb. ’34 to Jan. ’35. Idle chatter on our 9th grade. Maybe our heads did swell a little but gee. we were so much older. This was the time we tried to impress our teachers by checking papers and washing black boards—to say nothing of watering the plants. We spent periods upon |»eriods at our guard posts. Every boy thought he was going to be Commander and every girl planned to be the Commander’s or the Captain’s best girl friend. Julia DeMarco was at the height of her popularity then. Rubber bow ties became all the go and pulling suspenders was a year around sport. Feb. ’35 to Jan. 36. This is the what is generally known as the “Year of Discovery”. (Discovering of each other I mean). There wasn’t a soul who didn’t have •

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CONVINCED THAT, because of some strong influence, we have a large number of talented, gifted, inspired students in our class, we have decided upon the zodiac and its mystic astrological force as a materialistic expression of that influence. And so, carrying out the belief that the zodiac with its stars and moons has and will influence us, I prophesy the following: That, because there are outstanding traits of leadership, strength, pioneering and idealism brought upon those born under the sign of Aries, the ram, Marshall Netland will become the scrupulous head of the income tax office; Felix Bevack will romp as a “pro” basketball coach; and Pat Iosue will pioneer in “contrapting” a pretzel-twisting machine. That, with those born under the sign of Taurus, the bull, traits of business finesse, calmness, and friendliness will ever prompt Tom Magill to become general manager of Euclid Beach Park; Betty Medhurst to become the private secretary to a city Finance Director; and Bob Lilley to become New York’s State Economic Statistician. That, of those born under Gemini with its forces of versatility, mental agility, and brilliance, Norbert Riendeau will alternate from head zoo keeper to a quizzical deputy detective inspector; Angelo Congin will pantomime with a monkey and organ at the 1089 New York Exposition’s amusement grounds; while strolling through the Exposition’s cafes Joe Coccaro will royally entertain as the “vagabond accordionist—and Ed Strohecker, will for $10 per night act as No. 1 escort of Ted Peckham’s Escort Bureau. That, under Leo the lion, with its signs of royalty, generosity, and character, Amelio Taglia will hand out free tickets to the New Arena as its publicity director; All ert with Peter Inzano, the “twin” brothers, will be twice as successful as modern air-conditioning draftsmen; and Hazel Knuchel, who will wed a prince (ahem!), will reign in royalty at Buckingham Palace. That, with the artistic and talented rays of Libra the scales, there will shine in the future Archie Sharer as the Mikado in the presentation by the Metropolitan Opera Company; Roljert Crane will step into Murray’s shoes (literally) as head of the world famous dancing school; not to forget the technical talent of John Koska who will head T.V’.A. work projects as chief electrical engineer. That, coming with the division of the zodiac that is noted for its number of bachelors and old maids, Sagittarius, the archer (no, not Cupid), will be Marvin Zoslov, a bachelor whom every fond mama will try to “hook” to her daughter; Margaret Barr, the “live alone and like it successor to Marjorie Hillis; a perfect Sherlock Holmes” bachelor, Alvin Ledel, with pipe and Watson by his side; and good old “Bugs” Vogel who will Ije the busy “play-boy” bachelor, seen escorting all the Indies of the ball to the “Silver Slipper” or the “Parisian Gardens.” And so I take off my astrological turban, and cover up the mystic glol e. Our prophecies are done—and with the generous influential forces of our zodiac we step forward, confident and calm that we will succeed.