East High School - Orient Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

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SENIOR CLASS —

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Class History THE year of 1009 has generally been spoken of as one famous for the large number of centennials of the birth of great men and the accomplishment of great deeds which occur in it. But it is not necessary to look into the past for events worthy of remembrance. This very year is the one appointed by destiny for the graduation of our class from the East High School, and it is now the glorious task of my humble pen to write a brief history ol the four years spent in East High by this class which takes its name from the date, June '09. It was a rainy and windy September morning in the year of 1905 that, filled with a realization of our own importance, but hesitating a little on account of the haughty looks of pompous Seniors, we first came to this school and made our way up to the third floor. There we found our studyrooms, and spent most of our time. The weather and our spirits seemed to-agree that day, we were so depressed and gloomy. But it took more than a stormy sky and a few rough experiences to keep down June,'09. Just as the next day dawned bright and clear, so our path lay bright and clear before us. Several of our number established a record by gaining places on the school teams in their freshman year, and of these we are proud. But for the most part we merely gained strength for the work that lay before us. As Sophomores, we began to broaden out and take a greater part in the activi- ties of the school, and soon the other classes saw that June, 09 was worthy of resj cct and esteem. All our actions and aims compared very favorably with those of other second-year classes. Thus another year passed. The following fall we entered as Juniors. Then, in truth, others saw what we were We now saw what High school life really was, and there was little which we allowed to get by us. The Junior Prom, given in connection with the January, 09 class was the social event of the year, and our Farce was also a great success. Our teams were better than ever before, and the spirit with which they met stronger opponents was unexcelled, even if we did have to occasionally yield the palm to others. But as the grand climax of the year we won the interclass track champion- ship away from the Seniors at the annual Field Day. All too soon we found ourselves at the beginning of our last year in East High, and as Seniors we determined to make it the best of all. With the addition of many new memlnrs from various sources we started off with our old time spirit and vim, against which nothing could stand. We strove, not for our own glory, but for the good of the school, for as the Seniors we felt that this should be our true aim. We have not merely watched what others have done, but have entered into the work ourselves and have l een responsible for much of East High’s success. It has been a pleasure for us to do our part in keeping up the name of the school, not only by winning victories in football, basketball, track, and other interscholastic contests, but also in supporting the various organizations. We have seen the school prosper, and believing that we have done our part, we must now leave. But may the memory of these four years always remain with us, and may the memorvof June, 09 always remain with the school. George Lldolph, Class Historian.

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Class Prophecy ABOUT twenty years, after I left high school, fortune at last smiled bright enough to allow me to begin a trip around the world and, fearing that the tickle goddess might suddenly change her mind, I made hay while the sun shone;” and thus it came about that 1 was aboard the steamship “Arctic’ bound for Europe. As soon as an opportunity presented itself I went to Captain Irving Richard and introduced myself. Captain Richard instantly recognized me and gave me the “glad hand.” He was a fine looking fellow with his nicely trimmed mustasche and goatee and has an enviable record on the sea. “By the way he said “there are a couple of our classmates aboard. Perhaps you can find them.” I went on the hunt. Whom should 1 meet near the gangway but Ned Moore and Gretta Ordway, walking along with a most piously sorrowful look on their faces. They greeted me with quiet dignity, and in answer to my inquiry, said that they were missionaries and on their way “to minister unto the spiritual need of the heathen.” We chatted over old times and classmates and among other things, they told me that in New Orleans were several of our friends. Louis Berry was a pros- perous butcher there, Eva Wannamacher was giving vocal lessons and Joseph Ernst was an alderman and incidentally building up a well paying business. I, in turn told of the few I knew, how Harvey Thomas was president of the Plasterers Union, Ruth Gillis was teaching in a small school over which Henry Weiland acted as principal, Harry Schreib was Superintendent of Charities and how Elliot Dewey was the greatest electrician of the age and had patented numerous wonder- ful inventions. The next day when Captain Richard offered to take me through the ship, I assented gladly. When we reached the engine room he pointed out two of the stokers. “Recognize them?” said he. “Why, no.” I replied. “Art Beale and Ty' Barker. Fact! Came to me in New York, and wanted a job. I put them down here shoveling coal because I knew they’d come to a bad end sometime, and when they do get their regular jobs, they might as well be in practise. Cy takes it all right but Art complains that 1 am ruining his complexion.” ()ur voyage was completed safely, and bidding my freinds farewell, I landed in England. Among the custom officers was Harold Ailing and by giving him a cigar, I passed without inspection. As I walked along, I noticed ahead of me a crowd around a man on a barrel. He was gesticulating wildly and shouting. Imagine my surprise to see that it was Alexander Davis, displaying his well known oratorical ability by extolling to the skies, the merits of “Davis’ Wart and Mole Remover.”—“This is the only original. Satisfaction guaranteed. Only two shillings! Removes warts, moles, corns, bunions, blemishes of every kind over night. Don’t crowd there, ladies. Get ’em while they last”—and evidently they were getting them, for a man, whom I recog- nized as Edward Strauchen was having hard work to hand them out and collect his fee. Just then some one touched me on the arm and, looking round 1 saw a quiet looking gentleman, with glasses on the end of his nose, which was very red, from exposure, he said. “Don’t you know me?” he asked. ¥ “No,” I replied, and he handed me a card on which I read, “Prof. George Ludolph, Head of German Department, Oxford University.” George, in spite of his subdued appearance, for he told me confidentially that he was a very hen- pecked man, was a fine old sport and he showed me around the town in great style. That afternoon we called on the American Consul, Mr. Leo Sullivan, who seemed very glad to see us and with pardonable pride introduced us to his wife and two fine children. Evidently his consular duties were not very pressing for he joined the professor and me that night when we went to see Miss Margaret Howe, playing the leading role in a great American drama, written especially for her by Marguerite Reed and Julius Kaelber. Her manager, so the Professor told me, was Ward Whitney. She acted with as much ease and grace as ever and was now one of the leading actresses of the world.