Cradock High School - Admiral Yearbook (Portsmouth, VA)

Page 31 text:

CLASS PLAY □ THE SENIOR CLASS OE CRADOCK HIGH SCHOOL PRESENTS Professor How Could You” School Auditorium Friday, March 31, 1944 ACT I — In the living room of the Perrys ACT II — Same ACT III — Same TIME: The Present PLACE: In a small college town CAST Professor Keats Vicky Randolph Grandpa Perry Grandma Perry John Appleby Boggins Priscilla Morley Valerie Whitman Tootsie Bean Butcher Boy Bean Raymond Houghton Gloria Olson . . . . Richard Lumpp Vivian Dale Eddie Austin Johnny Scott Billie Dove Forrest Pat Henley Mcllie Wasley Harley Affeldt Ushers — Edith Marie Outten, Vernon Tabler, Sylvia Johnson, Irene Poole Tickets — Jean Cline, Lydia Welstead

Page 30 text:

Winn Far into the blue above e gaze upon one star, And then collect our memories Of High School days we saw. The hopes and joys of caretree life. The planning of the years, Are all as one within our minds, While smiling through the tears. Tomorrow brings a bright new dawn In which we all shall rise, And start our lives anew — apart. With eager, hopeful eyes. The laughter of the present day, The scarecity of tears, Will linger in our memories, Throught the coming years. The pleasing smiles and joyful eyes, And minute heartbreaks now, Will all unite within our minds. And form a broken bough. Along with play we work and think To help our future plan, To help us gain the only goal That is so dear to man. There is no worry stopping us. And clouding not a brain, There is no grief that hinders us, Or nothing sound nor sane. But all within our thumping hearts Is happiness galore, And all behind our gleeful grins We smile as ne’er before. So light inside and caretree still We wonder down the road, The one that seems to lead so tar, And carries not a load. Our hopes so high and floating now, Ambition heads the way, With all its glory flowing on, And seemingly will say: “I am a Star, the righteous beam, That becons you to start. Upon the journey to success, And open wide your heart.” And on and on it tears and pricks Upon the tightened seams, The ones that hide within oar hearts, And bind our hidden dreams. Marguerite Winn. Houghton Charge Reeves G ifts Cl.AXTON Will Olson Adieu (Annie Lisee) Now the parting time draws neaer, Tear-drops fill my eyes; Many things I’ll leave behind me — Friends and friendship ties. Mem’ries linger, always with me, Everyone a jewel; Stay a living, flaming symbol. My beloved school. Books and paper, pens and pencils, Laid aside you’ll be; Thank you, teachers, for the guidance You have given me. Always in my recollections, ’Til the day I die; Don’t forget me, Alma Mater, So, for now, good-bye. Gloria Olson.

Page 32 text:

CLASS HISTORY OF ’44 fi ' OUR YEARS — practically a life time of schedules, classes, meetings, office calls, dances, sports, work, play, laughter, tears. When we think back, it seems impossible that all those have been crowded into our busy, rushed lives. Can we ever forget that day in September, 1940, when we found our- selves standing in the center hall — bewildered, excited, a little afraid. At first we were just so many loose ends, but afterwards we elected Bobby Parker, president; Gloria Olson , vice-president; Sidney Cutchins, secretary and Raymond Houghton, treasurer. Then we were sophomores. Just a year of fun and frolic. Red Taylor was elected president; Raymond Houghton, vice-president; Dorothy Wright, secretary, and Stanley Grimes, treasurer. We returned in the fall of ’42 — Juniors, with the job of the Junior-Senior on our shoulders. Bill Harris became our president; Shirlee Parker, vice-president; Vivian Dale, secretary, and Marguerite Adams, treasurer. The Junion-Senior Prom was our big night and we proved to the Seniors that we loved them all and w : ould be sorry to see them leave. We saw the Seniors graduate anti with reminiscent hearts, we sat listening to them bid farewell, realizing that we were Seniors. Then, suddenly, it was our year. We were at the helm, and frightened to think so many people depended on us. We chose Larry Claxton president; Raymond Houghton, vice-president; Shirlee Parker, secretary, and Doris Meares, treasurer. Seniors we were, and we proved that to the Freshmen and newcomers with the annual Supreme Court affair. Our big heartbreak of the year was losing the championship in football, but we came through with county championships in boys’ and girls’ basketball. Then came the time to elect our Admiral staff, remembering we had a big task before us, the Seniors of ’43 had won Class B Literary Honors. But with Larry editor we knew our goal was not tar. Seniors then proved their acting ability by producing a fine three act comedy, “Professor, How Could You!” We turned back the pages and on April 3rd we were babies again. On Mav oth, we became the honored guests of the Junior class at the Prom. With much ado we called off our feud and enjoyed ourselves immensely. We cannot say that our high school years ended suddenly — all through the past year there have been “last times” for us, and we knew r it was nearly over. Memories of the years hold special meaning to each of us. We shall always remember such things as the Norview football game, History IV, Baby Day, Senior election days, Lt. Grimes, our hero — and many other incidents far too numerous to mention. To write a story of our years at Cradock is nor for one person to do. For each individual high school holds its own meanings, accomplishments, joys, sorrows, and highlights and we know that tor each member of the Class of ’44 their story is written in their minds. We have grown in many ways through classes and association with our teachers, we have fitted ourselves intellectually for broader development. Four years have given each of us through contact with our friends, cherished bits of that w ' hich we may call our philosophy of life. In leaving we feel that no knowledge could make us happier than that somewhere, in the heart of a friend, each of us has left some small part of himself, his ideas or thoughts, that will prove as helpful as those we have received. The Senior Banquet, the Baccalaureate Sermon, the Burial, Class night, anil Commencement — it will all be over. The trust, the honor, and the challenge of “carrying on” we leave to the Seniors of ’45. Dorothy Wright, Historian.