Columbia High School - Columbian Yearbook (Lake City, FL)

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Seniors

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I have lived a fairly serene life. I have had my moments of pain, and at the present time I have turned slightly green—all because I have acquired a new coat of paint. I saw the Class of ’51 for the first time in the fall of 1945. They were an eager lot! They were a green bunch then, dressing up Hallowe'en Witches, digging holes in the desks and walls, and generally trying to impress me with their originality, which incidentally, they did. Through the years my halls were filled with gleeful throngs after the gridiron victories over Live Oak, and my classrooms saw the determined class supplying an- swers to the numberless questions asked by the faculty in the semester tests. Then at last the class of ’51 left my painted halls in quest of new kingdoms to conquer. er O God from whom cometh every good and perfect gift, make us worthy of the rich heritage that we in our America enjoy. Strengthen us in body and in spirit by work and play, by fellowship and friendship, so that we may be fitted for our calling in the service of our country and the world. Make us honest, diligent and loyal, so that we may do honor to our parents and to this school and to Thee who has created us to glorify Thy name. 6 Amen.

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It was way back in 1938 that we first entered dear old Central Elementary School. We were scared at this new and different experience, but felt well able to cope with the terrible “three R’s and with our very first teachers: Miss Watkins, Miss Glenn, and Miss Bell. The fact that we were missing half of our front teeth gave us a rather ferocious appearance, but the girls were al- ready sort of cute with their pigtails and big bow ribbons, and the boys felt pretty sharp in their short pants and slicked down hair. As we grew older and became sophisticated fifth and sixth graders, we looked forward to the day when we would go to school in the brick building.” But alas, when that day came we found that we were only those “pesky little seventh graders” who scooted around the building looking for their classrooms (and getting trampled on by any upperclassmen whose path we happened to cross). We’ll never forget the funny feeling we had the first time we got lost in the big halls. Everyone seemed to know where they were going except us. But we felt pretty proud of being “big-shots”—attending pep meetings, having a football hero, going to chapel every Friday, and belonging to scads of clubs. We worked hard in Thespians, the Honor Society, Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, the Student Council, F. H. A., F. F. A., and Keyettes. The years w'hizzed by and brought a lot of changes. We got taller and broader (too broad sometimes). The boys finally discovered that girls were nice for more than throwing dead mice at. One by one the girls started sporting lipsticks, high-heels, and all the other paraphenalia that makes makes a girl a girl. And the boys would get up fifteen minutes earlier in the morning to scrape a razor over a cheek that didn't need it. Our Junior year brought a problem—how to earn money for the Junior-Senior Banquet. A magazine drive seemed the logical answer. No more loafing in the afternoon—we canvassed the town crying plaintively, Please, lady, subscribe to a magazine!” We began planning for the banquet. The theme, April Showers, was carried through with umbrellas, sprinkling cans, and elves. The menu listed flower nectar, rainbow cobbler, and other delicacies. A huge success and an occasion never to be forgotten by any of us, our banquet was the high spot of our high school careers. The time is drawing nearer to that day when we’ll no longer be seniors or anything else in high school. Despite a lot of talk about how happy we’ll be when we no longer have to study or try to please our teachers, when we get down to brass tacks most of us aren’t nearly as overjoyed as we like to appear at the thought of leaving Columbia High School. We’ll never forget these four years. 8