Converse College - Ys and Other Ys Yearbook (Spartanburg, SC)

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Q. Now that the present senior class is on the threshold of death-and being away from Converse will kill many of us--preparing to step into the vast unknown and unpredicted orbit at this time called the world, it has been my pleasant duty to contact the unhappy members of this graduating class and endeavor to make them realize the importance of leaving to remaining individuals not quite as well educated as we, the things which we dare not carry from the halls of Converse into newly made homes, our mother's homes, old-maid homes, and homes blown into bits by Nazi bombs. Without further comment on world affairs, I do hereby release the following will and testament: l, Lib Adams, leave my most democratic personality to Lalla Green Nimmocks. Long live democracy! We, Jane Adams and Marty Wyche, do bequeath our ingenuity to create midnight parties to Jo Cureton and Hannah Walker. I, Lib Lyles, reluctantly leave my reserved seat on the train to Atlanta to Emily Jennings. I, Doady Hyman, do gladl bequeath a set of beat-up tires to Harvey Newsom to be used only on the road to Clemson. I, Virginia Ann Morgan, db hereby will my roles in Spartanburg Music Festivals to Margaret Goodman. We, Sara Lee Gifford and Sammy Worley, will and bequeath a broken alarm clock to anyone or everyone who misses breakfast. I, Nancy Anderson, do hereby leave my love for Dr. Myers to Caroline Woods, I, Gene Mears, will my good sportsmanship to Mary Jean Hooper. I, Natalie Jennings, do leave all my extra quality points to Anne Bates who likes extended vacations as well as I. We, Bettie Vann and Mary Bauman, do hereby relinquish our scholarships from the Carolina, State, Strand, and Palmetto theatres to the deserving Frances Fleming and Carolyn McSween. I, Margaret Jordan Young, do hereby will my surplus gym cuts to any needy junior. I, Dot France, do hereby bequeath all my athletic abilities to Kent Seignious. I, Sara Suitt, do leave my music school hangover to Grace Martin. I, Harriett Bull, do will and bequeath a road map leading to Vance to anyone who now possesses a red convertible. I, Betty Harris, do leave my general search for knowledge in the field of Philosophy to Cacie Gant. I, Lib Allison, do will all my future telephone calls to Eloise Bethel. I, Eleanor Toole, do hereby bequeath my ability to sleep any time and all the time to Kitty Colclough. We, Jane Vandiver and Anne Marshall, leave our power dance and fascination for big hats to Betty Isbell. I, Mary Frances Morgan, dutifully entrust my nightly vigils to Betsy Brunk. I, Polly Breeden, do hereby leave my bobby-pins to Bess Owen Alexander, who looks as well as I with her hair screwed up. I, P, C. Howard, do hereby bequeath my nickname to any underclassman who deems herself worthy of being a privileged character. We, Vivian Workman and Peggy Hite, do hereby leave our atfection for ever reciting Orley and Little George Washing- ton to whosoever may have the nerve to bore those attending our bonfires. I, Virginia Hengeveld, do hereby will and bequeath sudden outbursts of laughter to Betty Rodmon. I, Sara Spigener, do leave my love for medical men to Helen Myatt. l, Anne Crooks, do hereby will my creative writing ability to Betty Murph. I, Susie Plowden, leave my love for social case work to Margaret Workman. I, Marguerite Symms, do hereby bequeath my ability to attract soldiers on the train to Jean Harby. With fondest memories, I, Jean Maney, do leave the library to my sister in hopes that she will hold it up for the next three ears. Y I, Mary Ruth Cannon, do bequeath three months on Converse campus to just any girl in love. I, Lucy Geiger, do leave my Cupid's bow and arrow to Cupid himself until he sees fit to give it to someone else. I, Frances Brooke, after four long years, do bequeath my ability to whisper to Dot Knott. I, Nancy Vaughan, do leave my afternoon Chemistry labs to Betty McCarty. Regretfully, I, Allison Stone, must necessarily withhold my cute personality and good looks for the well-being of the future enerations. 3 I, Bob Blackmon, hereby will and bequeath my Red Cross uniform and veil to anyone who can knit two, pearl two, for two inches, and then knit for sixty-eight. We, the graduating Class of '43 leave not our number but our spirit of good fellowship to all posterity. Signed and sealed by BOB BLACKMON, Class Testator. Y . xy , Y -a- KD lied Barns- BBA'-igial'-1 Ji, QQ .. Ri! Qi 'Lf 11 I , T Yi Q WI-.rf , x Y ir Kgyfipg Q '. IQ fu it QW I if I it ' D X e f' ' T' I xl, ' GAA'-'Au CZQTXJIIZ , ,k tigkg gy dlgfiy ig WI all? Il MIG' 'C XL o XJ ' Nj I JI 5 C, X9 Xisifbf fly fig rs'l.3,L 'iw Z' Lf E QQ -fig' - -fe 24

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The rest oi the year tlew by, and we soon be- gan thinking about being mighty Sophomoresf' . . . Billie was re-elected President of the class, and we put our heads together to start plans for the great event ot our lives. This time we'd be the big dogs lor a change. They say that nobody likes a Sophomore, but we did our darndest to break a precedent. Ratting was iun, but a struggle. Then and there we decided we'd ten times rather be ratted a year than to rat for a week. Perhaps the biggest event in a Converse big dogs' life is Senior-Sophomore Day. We donned black caps ,ni gowns lthe ones we wish we could un-don nowl and thought we were just about wraps? As usual, the Sophomore Class dwindled prac- tically away, and we came back the next lall minus members but thinking that maybe it was quality rather than quantity that counted alter all. A few transfers joined our happy family, but the class remained a small one. For that all-important year Stewn was our president 'ni Bobbe Milburn was heap big custodian oi the coke machine 'n' the Junior Shop. Remember all the things that happened . . . becoming the proud possessors of little sisters . . . the Junior-Freshman Wed- ding . . . the Christmas Bazaar . . . the Junior Dance . . . and, tinally, the thing we'd been working- towards all year-the Junior- Senior. It was a busy year. We won the shield 'n' then Cupid went on the rampage 'n' tried to take the U rest of our class away. We practically out-did the Seniors with the sparklers in our midst. December 7 of that year was a very important date in our lives. The attack on Pearl l-larbor made a big scratch on our complacency and we suddenly grew into a more serious minded rising Senior Class. With the Fact that we were a war Class imprinted upon our minds, we took more seriously the tasks of our senior year. Our holidays were changed, rationing started and we had to give up some of the little nice- tiesi' weid been accustomed top but we knew that it was only small sacritice in comparison with the war classes ol other countries. All ot our work became more closely connected with the war ettortg but the traditions and spirit that make Converse, Converse, were not iorgotten. Our last dance . . . the parties in the dining room . . . sponsors for the hockey games lremember Miss Thompson and the run- away horse 'n' buggyl . . . the Christmas tree in Main . . . dressing dolls For the mountain children . . . our last tling at being childish on Senior-Sophomore day . . . all these things were not forgotten nor will they be as long as twe memories ol Converse live with us, the Class ol ,43. As we leave our alma mater, it is the com- mencement oi ulivingi'-living the ideals which we have lormed in Converse and which Converse has Formed in us. LUCIA GHGER, Class l-listorian. 0'-E 55295 J' n Ezgafgiu 7 X J -' Q ,, X. M ' S 9. C5 J sim ui ir. if iv ff K lim V -- T jf l J ,.ir lilli V. -A. C 11. A W -J Dt C-lf -erm my-ll'-ffl 'I-1 iQTlTri L 'f'T T 'A' TTL 23

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14, I:lflfL6.4 0 01446 Teachers College, Columbia University, New York City, May 29, 1948. Converse College, Spartanburg, S. C., Dear Miss Gee, It's been a long time-five whole years-since the Class of '43 was at dear old Converse. I know it's a hard job for you to keep in touch with all of us, so I've done a little snooping around and will tell you now what I've learned about some of them. You'II remember that we had some rare people in our class. Take Mary Frances Morgan-the smart girl that finished in February. During the war she was an international spy. Now, her ability to seek out the unknown has led her to be an F. B. I. agent. Harriett Bull is her chief assist- ant-that is, when Miss Bull isn't playing. You see, she cultivated her ardent love for music, and is now a violinist in the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra. You should hear some of those high notes she saws out! Do you remember Bettie Vann and Mary Bauman, the eternal movie hounds? Well, they're now co-owners of Roxy Theatre here in New York. Peculiar thing there-the features change three times a day, with triple features on Satugiay. Lib Lyles has money invested there, too, and her profits keep her on the road to Atlanta every week en . After winning all those camp medals, Gene Mears is now director of a summer camp for girls. All work and no play makes plenty of jack! Natalie Jennings is still going to Harvard summer school, just for the fun of it. Yes, she did organize a Lonely Hearts Club there, too. Misses Marshall and Vandiver are now directors of a dancing school. They teach the ballet, the waltz, modern dancing, and of course, the Mississip i Hop! Mary Ruth Cannon Jones has become a horse trainer, and her favorite one, Privileged Character, won the Kentucky Derby this year. She named the horse after a former roommate of hers. During the war, and in the post-war period, Dot France has been director of calisthenics at Camp Croft. The boys are crazy about Funny Bunny. Doady Hyman has been at one particular job since she finished school. She runs a bus line from Spartanburg to Clemson, working eight days a week. The buses, of course, are all red. She gives free rides on the week end. Mrs. John Payne, Jr., came to see me last week end. She's the former Virginia Hengeveld. Mr. Payne is the son of the late John Payne, actor. Henger met John, Jr., in Atlantic City, where she entered the beauty contest for Miss America. After getting her doctor's degree in Biology, Nancy Vaughan went on an expedition to Africa fthe part that even the war dioln't touchl to do research work. Freda Sullivan went along to give artificial respiration. You remember quiet little Eleanor Howard, don't you, Miss Gee? She is now professor of Bible at Chapel Hill. Bob Blackmon has at last obtained her one ambition. She lives in a governor's mansion somewhere in North Carolina. In her spare time she reads medical books. Peggy Hite has a quaint little radio repair shop in Evergreen, ln her spare time she raises petunias. Her father is proud of her just the same. Just look in on any kindergarten these days and you'Il see a portrait of Polly Breeden. She's the leader of them all! She has also adopted ten little orphans. Lieutenant Allison Stone is still with the Ferry Command. She does take leave now and then, and especially when there's a Y conference going on. I might add here that Eleanor Toole, despite that height, is a top sergeant with the Commands. I've been dashing all over New York to see Lucy Geiger. Every time a fire engine passes, I rush out and follow it in hopes that Lucy will be at the scene of disaster to cover the story For New York Times. Well, there we are, Miss Gee. So sorry I couldn't get in touch with the rest of the class. Hope everything is fine with you, Dr. Gwathmey, Dr. Morgan, and the rest of the fine faculty of our college. Best wishes! Sincerely, SARA SPIGENER. P.S. Know you enjoy seeing Vivian Workman each year around picture-taking time. She has a wonderful photographers studio in Charlotte. up O .fl bcftigj J, f Q4 17 -X .- X . .. X jf fs ' 'vpn ... f Wil' tk lat ?f .riIilii'lI 2 'li lll ff ilu! jwil ,A 'A' K- TLB-f A AD- Q,:.:f5Q.-g-....:.s.f. 12- Q E- ' to 'H .-.ss 25 Tgii- 4 2-if-f