East High School - Exodus Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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that happened many years ago, she is not forgotten, her influence is still felt. Now, here come the pictures of our Junior Year. This year is beginning with a rush. Just look! Why is every one rushing madly to the doors? The doors open, and the class welcomes with open arms Carl Loehr, not knowing him very well at that time. We are also beginning our enjoyable and social part of school life, and are being initiated into clubs. What makes the film so dim? Oh! I know now. No wonder the picture is blurred! It is our very first class meeting, noisy and confused, as class meetings always will be. But what can the next picture be? It is in the Gym, and it seems as though some of the girls have on their holiday clothes-but surely not to take Gym! A few boys come straggling in as usual-a piano begins to play-Ah, yes-the first step into the lime- light of the 11A class, now a full-fledged factor at East. What a wonder- ful picture the next one is! That championship football team that beat E. Tech 14-6. And among its ranks stand Red and Pompy upholding our class. Do we remember it? We'll say we do! Now come the best pictures of all: Senior pictures-the glory of those. There, in the Auditorium, are those who, as Flats, used to stretch their necks and take all manner of rebukes, but now they rest deliciously UD in orchestra seats. My, but the class is becoming wicked! Billy Griffiths is appearing in long trousers. Now, Billy! The next picture is our marvelous Senior Prom at the Colonial Club with confetti, punch, and bushels of hilarity. The pictures are becoming more interesting! Class night is being shown with its happy faces-but what makes them sad so suddenly? Ah, yes, it is our Alma Mater song, being sung for the last time, with just a catch in the throats of those who loved her so dearly. The next picture is the only one that brings us back to our childhood days, and that is Florence Cook with her hair ribbon. Will she ever wear her hair up? They say, Virtue will be rewarded. The last picture of all! Commencement is at its height. It is beyond power of describing the beautiful, simple last farewell to her who sheltered us for four short years. The curtain falls, lights flare, aisles fill, and people pass joyously out, but we go as though in a trance, living again those four short years. OLIVE PINARD, '21, Chine Hunt Srhnnl ljnur Eval Give your school the best you can give her, And she, in her turn, will give you The blessings of wisdom and culture, The glory of victory, too. If you on her teams make your showing As one full of life and of zest, Yours, truly, will be greatest honor, If only you give your school your best. Put all that you've got in your studies, Put all that you've got in your voice, When you stand, though defeated, still cheering, When you over a victory rejoice. For any man knows, in the future You may only sit still and rest, If now, while in quest of your learning, You always put forward your best. , RAY PARTENFELDER. 90

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Gllaaa ifiatnrg JANUARY 21, 1921 OISE, decorations, crowds, parades, posters, and every other thing that goes to make up a celebration. But, no! This can't be a celebra- tion! What is there to celebrate? Why, of course! How foolish of us not to remember! This is Boost Cleveland Week, when millions are being expended to give a wonderful demonstration of the recently pro- claimed third city. Every day something new and diferent is to be staged. But we shall wait to go on the day of days. The day that many of us shall never forget -for there will be something of personal interest in it for us. This day is Friday, and, as every Friday has something of luck and importance, so does this one. At all of the principal theaters in the city are to be shown pictures of Cleveland's public schools from the year 1900. Promi- nent among these is our dear Alma Mater, only begun at that time, yet already its influence is felt in Cleveland's history. At last the day has come, so let us go. All the theaters are over- crowded, for no doubt others, besides ourselves, are just as anxious to see their schools as we are. Here we are. Ah, look! Here is the first picture. How queer is the style of dress at the time of the founding of East High! But as the pictures fly by, styles become more and more familiar, become gradually as we remember them in our grammar school days. Oh, look! Here comes the fateful year of 1917! Up the well-worn walks we can see some of the members of our class approaching the building warily and timidly, for they had heard of the onslaughts of high and mighty Seniors. There we are now! All of us babies gathered in the Auditorium, waiting to be assigned to our rooms. And see! See! There are the two redheads that the class was burdened with. How different they are now, for they have become secretly auburn and curled. How familiar that study hall looks with a Senior in charge at the time of Student Government! One of the boys seems interested in her. Is it because she is beautiful? Surely not, for his next action explains everything. A note is slyly slipped to his neighbor. Poor little Flat! He didn't know that if that note were put in a book and passed, it would cause no comment at all. Then, the well-remembered first issue of the Blue and Gold, and the glory of seeing your picture in that proud East High Annual. Another picture brings to our minds one of the Friday afternoon parties in Miss Parsons's room with the Junior girls. Look, there is Helen Stow, she is washing dishes. Could it be that she was naughty? Now come the Sophomore pictures. How nice it was to know we could laugh at others now! What makes the class so much larger? Why, of course! Several children have come from Fairmount Junior High, among whom are three of our officers, Bob Shackleton, Dot Sparrow, and Florence Cook, to swell the class and grace the halls of East. Surely, our lucky star was watching over us, then. Certainly we remember that famous bazar, at which we succeeded in accumulating one hundred sixty dollars of perfectly good money. That was a great deal for those days. It was in this year that we also began our share in the World War by taking care of some orphans, selling Smileage books and Thrift stamps, and, above all, raising money for Liberty Bonds for our school. But this year was not all sunshine, for it was while we were Sophomores that a great tragedy came to us. In December of this year, one of the best loved girls in the school was taken from us. With great sorrow we mourned the death of our dear schoolmate, Edith Schafner, and though 21

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