Coquille High School - Laurel Yearbook (Coquille, OR)

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SENIOR CLASS HISTORY S|c) Vi Yd Yd Yd V V YJ Yd Yd WHEN? A bright and sunny morning in September in the year of our Lord, Nineteen hundred and twenty-one. Where? On the hard clay grounds of the Coquille High School. What? A slight chastisement of an ignorant-looking group of young people, who had for their chastisers and audience, another group of pupils who did not look a bit less ignorant. Why? The members of the class of ’25 were getting their first christening into Coquille Hi. (I say first because these christenings occurred at intervals for about a year.) It was not until the other classes found out our worth that they ceased to annoy us. Our class, which entered in Nineteen hundred and twenty-one, was the largest up to that time, since it consisted of fifty-four members. N V y Yd Four years have passed—years that we would not sell for love nor money, because of what they have meant to us. In this time we have grown from the green and ignorant bunch of freshmen to the dignified seniors of today. Yd Yd Yd Yd Yd Yd Yd Yd Yd Yd Yd Yd YJ Yd Yd Vi Yd Yd We have struggled onward and upward along that rough and rugged road to knowledge. For some of our number, this road proved too rough to follow and consequently without a sufficient effort, they failed. Then too, there are those who strayed away to the other places, and are now probably awaiting, as we are awaiting, to step out into the world of hard knocks. Those of us that are left, however, who have made the grade, after four short and successful years of high school, now wait upon tne threshold of the future. We might ask ourselves this question. Have we played our part in activities. This would be the answer. We have. It is useless to name our stars in basket ball, football, or in any other athletics; they are too many. Our class has contributed its share to all the activities. We know that our adversaries in other schools of Coos County will be glad to see the class of ’25 pass on, and that they will breathe a sigh of relief, when they know that our stars will no longer be there to deprive them of their honors. In dramatics, music, debating, oratory, we have always aimed to do our best. When ever we had the opportunity to please the public we did our best. Tomorrow is coming. Each one will do his utmost towards filling his place in the world, and we feel certain that this class, which has conducted itself so brilliantly and successfully here in good old Coquille Hi, will find a place of honor and respect in the future; that each one as the years roll by will look back with fond memories to days of joy and gladness ai Coquille Hi. Clare Lehmanowsky ’25

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 gAo 3|c) v V V V v a.-j j £ w? MARY WATSON Vice-President Class 3; Laurel Staff 2; Assistant Laurel Editor 3; Commercial Play 2; Junior Play; Senior Play; Operetta; Glee Club 2, 3, 4; President Glee Club 3; Representative to Officers’ Conference. ALLEN YOUNG Laurel Staff 2; Laurel Editor 4; Executive Councilman 2; Football 1, 2, 3, 4; Junior Play; Senior Play 2, 4; Operetta; Glee Club 4; Orchestra 3, 4; President Orchestra 4; “C” Club; President “C” Club; Representative to Editors Confer ence. «i 'il.! T CAN YOU IMAGINE? W V XiJ XIJ Vj Vj 'sv v.'' X ' J d Miss Druley tall and thin? Walter Paulson with white hair? Allen Young without Maxine? Miss Atkinson forgetting to assign a lesson? Mr. Parr bragging about the Civics class? Layton Nosier bashful? Miss Roeder flirting? Hal Howell being good? Getting past Mr. Cramer without an excuse? Frank George head over heels in love? A holiday every Friday? Violet Shuck with bobbed hair? Myrtle Clayton minus her glasses? Mary Esther Johnson being bad? Gene Laird without Marian? Avis Hartson tall? Tyler Walker without Mary Kay? Harold Simmons with short legs ? George Belloni with a squeaky voice? If you can, you have a better imagination than I have. N ' V t V I ' t v N C. S. L. ’25 LAiUJ [r S [E, I a IEg

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 'J§k V )gv ■ ■ 9 r V •» ■», PROPHECY Ihave left my classmates of ’25, Through ten long years I’ve strayed afar, Many people I’ve met, and seen sights so fine; But oft as I sit and gaze at the stars, I think of those friends of that class of mine. So one night I sat in wonder by the sea, That I might think what their fate might be; A faint flutter in the breeze caught my ear, And a voice broke silence, saying, “Mortal, don’t fear. For I am the Great Spirit, king of spirits far and wide, Your prayers I heard so I came by the wind; For I am a crystal gazer, and once I made a rule To phrophecy for ’25, that was the best in school, So shut your eyes and listen, be quiet as dead.” I complied with every wish, and this is what he said: “Earl Rice, noted scientist, a physicist is he, Has found perpetual motion by the square of “g” times “t”; Tyler Walker, radio man, and gazer at the stars. Publishes the daily news received from Mars; On a farm near Coquille, Frank George resides, Lewis Donaldson, put to sea and in a ship he rides: Wilfred Laird runs a ranch, Iva Baker at his side; In a gilded pupit the Reverend Lyle Beyers stands, Loud shoutings from his mouth, motions from his hands; Staninger, Peart, Shuck, form the happy dancers grand, For they teach many to sway, and kick to beat the band; Walter Paulson, Art McAdams, own a big cowpen, The boys work a little, and loaf now and then; Margaret Beyers, Mary Watson, are chorus girls of note; A singer Norton is, wild tones come from her throat; Layton Nosier, a heavy-weight boxer, is the champ; Marguerite Hersey, movie star, is classed as a vamp; Lena Pinkston, Eleanor Foley, found a way to lose fat, That’s got the daily dozen beat clear off from the map; George Belloni, Congressman, from Oregon state, And McCurdy is another—those boys can sure debate; Maxine Paulson, a nurse, has made a great success, That’s why Hal Howell, undertaker, prospers so, I guess; Myrtle Clayton, a suffragette, ’tis sorry to relate, Has gone to Ireland, to plan out a new state; Evelyn Oerding, Lola Ball, run a florist shop, Allen Young, experiments with love and ceases to stop; Mary Esther Johnson, married a duke, don’t cha know; And Hazel Epps, a baker’s wife, can surely roll the dough; Mabel Barnes, poor girl, never changed, sits in the den - I . r, 7nh»»minm—■■■■■■■ ■mwwwwxm mOP