Dorchester High School - Dorhian Yearbook (Dorchester, WI)

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Class Prophecy On© cloudy spring day in this year of 1970, I started on mj xong anxious way to the hank to have a little sum of $1,000 loaned so I could pay the last payment on my old 1949 Plymouth, I had way hack in 1954. Of course, the payment was only $200, hut I decided I would like to take a long trip probably to the moon, hut I think that is quite impossible, but probably I can take a trip and look up some of my old classmates of 1954. Being that I was a General in the Marine Corps, I was superior over the rest of the men and could come and go as I pleased. That is why I'm on my little excursion or rather thinking about it as thus. It was on the bus on the way to the bank, that I met an old classmate of mine, Shirley Sprengler. I knew by the way she drove that bus that it was her, for no other person drives that way. We talked a while and much to our surprise a cop stopped us for driving on the wrong side of the road. Well, Spitz got out in her usual carefree manner, and by the way she talked she was trying to auc- tioneer her way out of it. I of course looked out of the window and there stand- ing so big and broad in a nice new, police uniform, was Larry Waldhart.. Well you know what happened next. Thats right. We all three stood and talkeduitil another car stopped and asked what was the matter. I guess this was a lucky day for me in starting off my high hopes and ideas of seeing all my friends and classmates, because in this same car sat Shirley Paul. 0f course she wasn't driving, for her husband, an Air Porce General was taking over that task. In back were the sweetest bunch of little toddlers you would ever want to see. After that little incident we all decided it would be best if we started on our merry way again. So aftera little more chatting we proceeded on and with out a fine. It was quite a drive to the bank but inspite of all the close shaves with my bus driver, Spitz , I arrived, all in one piece. As I walked in the bank who should I meet but Jon Neidhold. He having the honor of being president of the bank received me with high colors. That was before I askedfbr the loan. We talked about old school days and then I proceeded on asking for the loan. He hesitated a bit but told me to go to the Cashier and receive my check. Here at the cashiers desk was a lady I thought I recognized, so with much deep thought, I recognized her as LaVon Doberstein. She still was the same, always talking and laughing. In spite of her talking, I received my $1,000. At this point, I decided it best that I send my $200 to Mertens Garage in pay- ment of my Plymouth. There was a Post Office right near the bank, but as long as I am here in California, 3 jet hours from Dorchesterville, I decided that I may as well board a jet plane and take a little excursion to Dorchesterville, in that city the Post Office is operated by Ronnie Busse. As I walked into the jet plane office, I went over to the receptionist desk and here Barbara Scherer, another school mate of mine, was sitting and giving out information. I asked if any planes were leaving for Dorchesterville and she said,that a plane would be leaving in about 32 minutes, so during this time we had a chance to talk over old happenings. Through this conversation I found out that the owner of this Jet air port was Lloyd Tex Mertens, and he also was the one to be jetting the Jet I was about to board. You can imagine what a state of confusion and anxiety I was in to think that he was the one I would be riding with. Well, he finally came and then we both boarded the jet for a 3 hour ride to Dorchesterville. I told Tex that I was sort of planning on a excursion on a jet, to go and see some of our old classmates. It was averyodd coincidence that Lloyd had the same ambition, and so there we sat in spite of the noise of the Jet, talking about our combined plan. After 3 Jet hours we arrived at our destination and why I went to Dorchester- ville to mail that old car payment by one of my old classmates, was beyond my reasoning. In spite of it all I did see my old friend, Ronnie Busse, at the Post Office. Here is also where I found out that not too far down the street, David Lehnertz, was Editor of the Daily News. After a bit of thought I decid- ed I would go to David and see if he would like to go along with Lloyd and I