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Page 26 text:
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U55 pI 0l0AQCg Another year has rolled around and it's time to take our annual trip across the good old U. S. A, By the way, this is 1965. First we went to Evansville and boarded an Eastern Airlines airplane. As we took off we had a strange feeling that something was about to happen. After several minutes it did. A beautiful young lady approached us and asked if there was anything we wanted. At first it didn't strike us but after she turned away we realized that we had been talking to none other than Miss Rosalie Appman. No, she's not married yet. Our first stop was at Chicago. On our tour of the city we ran into a newspaper office. As we have always wanted to go through an office of this kind, we made our way into the main office. There sat a fellow with a big cigar in his mouth and really puffing away. And he really had his reason to be puffing. There beside him sat a beautiful blond whom we took to be his sweetheart or at least on that track. Then we happened to glance at his desk and there we saw a sign which read - John Ramsey, Editor-in- chief, After a nice little chat with John Cand the young ladyy we again boarded our plane. We were headed for Detroit so we decided to stop at the Automobile Manufacturing Industry and look around. After only a couple of minutes there was a prosperous looking young fellow approached us and began telling us about his products. This, of course, was Albert Martin. We then headed for St. Louis. We decided to go to the ball park to see the Cardinals play the Dodgers. We looked at our score-books and in the line-up they had a kid by the name of Dave 'The Moose' Mounts. We both thought about the same thing--can that be. Well we'1l see when the game starts. We sat patiently and sure enough, it was, The kid was making his major league debut that day and made several spectacular plays at first base. Besides that he hit a homer, triple, doubles and walked once, What 'a poor way to break into professional ball. After the ballgame I didn't feel too well sol went to see a doctor. I staggered into a Dr. Don Brown's office and there was a handsome young man ready to cut away my troubles.
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Page 25 text:
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W ,- ' Wewra-M X Q ai,....s.wnnw ! MW' E AE M.. as -M 1-v- , . N all 'Ml We, the Senior Class of 1952-53, having all our wits about us or otherwise, and hopeful of departing this life of toil trouble, tricks, and triumphs, do herewith will and bequeath these things, which we in the past four years, have acquired, as follows: We, The Seniors We, The Seniors We, The Seniors We, The Seniors We, The Seniors We, The Seniors We, The Seniors Rosalie Appman Don Brown Fem Guffey .Joyce Lane Albert Martin lack Martin David Mounts Fred Schmitt John Ramsey I. P. Williams Mary Little Will Mr. Nash an office girl to sit on his lap. Will Mrs. Nash Bing Crosby for the Chorus. Will Mr. Winkler a class who won't throw erasers in Geometry Class. Will Mr. Cousert a class who can be on time for History Class. Will Miss Johnson girls who can bake better cakes. Will Miss Creek a Senior Class who won't make an amiual. Will The Grade Teachers all our future kids. Will all of my study guides in Office Practice to Emaling Reimann. Will my five false teeth and bleached hair to LaVerne Stallings, Will my shortness to Ruthie lrene Cater. Will my seat in Mr, Nash's Bookkeeping Class to Nancy Wilson. Will my quietness and sweet language to Pete Mills, Will my curly hair to James Hinman, Will my crew hair cut to Tommy Marvel. Will my ability to type nine words a minute to Francis Scheller. Will my Office Job to some good looking girl who will sit on Mr. Nash's lap Will my Ten Gallon Hat to Leo Lupfer. Will my sweet smile to all future seniors.
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Page 27 text:
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C6145 propdecy He laid me on the operating table and got a hammer, chisel, saw, and a file. First he chisled a hole in me and then sawed something which I couldn't make out too clearly what it was. After filing quite a bit he took a needle and thread and sewed me back up. Then he told me, what I needed was a lot of sunshine. With that remark, lpicked up my hat and coat and bid the poor old chap Good-by . Next we flew to Florida hoping to spend an afternoon on the beach. In a short while, we were greeted by a charming young couple and their four children. We had no trouble distinguishing them as Mr. and Mrs. Harold Roeder. She, as you know, was the former Miss Joyce Lane. They said they were living there and were very happy in their little bungalow. Our next stop was at New York City and here we ran into a night club with the name of The Wonder Bar . We saw on the billboard that Tommy Dorsey's orchestra was playing. We entered and in the background we could hear a very loud, flat blare coming from a trumpet. We were wondering who this could be and after the performance, we saw a tall, dark, and not too handsome fellow stand up and we immediately recognized him aslames Williams. He didn't have any teeth, had a long nose, crew hair cut, and well, he was really a sight for anyone to see. We then headed toward the west coast. On our way we stopped in a town in Oklahoma and there ran into another of our old buddies. This time it was Jack Martin. He was married and has been blessed with 7 little children. He is living on a 400 acre farm and says he has about 200 oil wells. This is probably about 190 more than he really has because I ack has always been known as a fellow who won't cheat himself out of anything. Then we boarded our plane and took off for Califomia. We stopped at a town which we can't recollect right now and here we ran into Fern Guffey. She told us of all her troubles and from her talk she sure has them. She is married has 5 children and her husband is only making S210 a week. We can understand why she doesn't enjoy living. Well, it was about time we got back home so we got into our plane and headed back for good old Cynthiana. On our return back we picked up a newspaper and read that Fred Schmitt has just gotten married and had taken over his father's farm. That rounds up another tour of the U. S. and, after being all over, we must still say that, wher- ever you may be, there 's still no place like home.
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