East High School - Orient Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

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As I proceeded, I perceived the familiar figure of George Augustus Haskins swinging quickly into a building. Over the entrance I read, Matrimonial Agency.” “Has Gus come to this?” I sighed. As I passed by, Anna Newman at the door gave me a card. My hands were limp with astonishment, as I saw thereon the face of my old friend Ethel West, and read, “I GUARANTEE TO FIND YOUR AFFINITY, Chaperonage, Encouragement, Poems to Order.” When I reached Adelias I was shown in, and told that she was out in the new auto her husband had bought from the Garson Lo. While awaiting her, I picked up the World's Work, and found Abe Gins- burg’s picture among the rich men of Wall Street, and also the life of Sadie H. Rose, the great worker among the poor, by Cornelia Evans, the noted novelist. Adelia had returned, and we had just greeted each other, when Lela Brown and Winifred Rauschenbusch, who were electioneering, were shown in. They had no sooner gone, than the bell rang again. This time it was Harold MacCallum as an agent of Goo-inc, a new breakfast food. On the sample package we found that Ward Gerber was inventor and manufacturer. At Last we began to talk, and Adelia told me that Valma Clark was the founder of a girls’ seminary, on the Hudson. Grace Worthington was principal there, and Myrtle Bittner was teacher of mathematics, though she wore a diamond. Isabel Wallace, happily married, lived nearby. When 1 enquired after Hazel Wundcr, I learned that she was dean of Mt. Holyoke, where Eleanor Lerner was a foreign language teacher. Our conversation passed to Gcrritt Weston, the artist of the day, whose portrait of Augusta Miller. New York’s social leader, had won him fame. I left Adelia’s and took a car. There whom should I meet but Russell West who, he told me, was doing solo work in a large church. When I enquired about Ralph Armstrong, Russell laughed. “Armstrong works,” he said, “in a hammock factory. His job is to lie in the hammocks to test them.” As I looked out of the window I saw Robert Barnes bossing a gang of laborers in fine style. Russell informed me that Charles Heath and Walter Attridgc were enjoying country life as scientific farmers. We passed Linda Schneider’s bird store, and Paul Brown 5c Co., Florists, quickly'. 1 had time only to glance at one ad. in the car, which ran, “Mint-O Gum, Hughes Smith Co.,” before I got off. Outside the court house among an unusual crowd, 1 recognized Louis Foulkes. the rich coffee man, and member of the Chamber of Commerce. “It’s a great day for Ezra!” he cried, and explained, “Hale is the lawyer on the defense.” “Defense? Of whom?” I asked. “Why Silvcrnail, America’s great author and humorist! On trial for breach of promise. A fine case! Rexford Morris is judge, and Edwin Costich clerk. The court is packed.” When Louis told me that Louise McCarthy was his secretary, I asked him if he had any more news of the class of June, 12. Only that Arthur Gosnell makes another Might in his aero’ tonight,” he answered. “If Frank is convicted Art will take him straight to Australia.” By this time I was so used to surprises that I took it as a matter of course when Marian Phelps hailed me from her waiting auto, and bade me enter. Marian had come from calling on Margaret Cox, an old friend of hers, and was going to the Walden School to bring her young son home. We passed Hammele’s moving picture show, and DeNeve’s shoe store, where Mary Poliakoff was book-keeper, and sped into the suburbs. Through the window of a fine home I caught a glimpse of Victor Roberts, applying the 16

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A man, gazing intently at a note book, and nibbling a roll, passed me. 'Two men who stood near, smiled. “That’s McKown,” nodded one, “America’s greatest mathematician. Why, man, be can trisect an angle,—but he never takes time to eat.” “Much I care,” retorted the other, whom 1 recognized as Walter Schiebcl. “You undertakers, Edmund Fay lor, will have me in a week. What can a man who’s running for governor do against a fellow like A1 Perry! No woman voter can resist that smile. And this is suffrage!” “Are you a Jenningsite?” queried a voice in my ear. I turned to face OJivc Carman, armed with a package of pink tickets. “Come to the meeting tonight, my friend, and he converted,” she said handing me a ticket. Resolving to visit East High School. I took a car. There I found Eunice Perry, who told me that she was principal of Number Twenty-Three school, where children of several of our schoolmates attended. To further inquiries, she replied that Irma Gibb’s son was just starting in Miss Silvcrstein’s grade, and that the little daughters of those whom I had known as Ollic Killip and Joanna Zielke were in Miss Newcrt’s kindergarten. On entering dear East High once more. I found John Ballard at home in the character of janitor, Letah Blizard and Caroline Foster presiding in the girls’ gymnasium, and Frank Stewart in the boys’. Dorothy Dockstader was piloting an English class through Burke, and Edna Killip was teaching chemistry. I attended assembly and heard Mary Kellogg, a noted member of the Tuesday Musicalc, sing. 1 listened patiently to the speech by Edward Clement, the American ambassador to Japan, till he began “and that reminds me of a little joke about an Irishman,” and then I slipped away. “On the left, you see East High School,” roared a voice, and the sight- seeing auto under the guidance of Harold Mills rolled past. Just outside, I met Frieda Epstein who was running the East High lunch room, assisted by Mattie Gunther, in co-operation with Florence Hartman and Esther Cohen at West High. To my surprise, Frieda told me that Alan Brown was conducting a dancing school and Mary Conley was his pianist. “And do you know that Rutli Thommsen is a gown model in New York s greatest fashion house?” she asked. “Georgia Plummer is head designer there.” “Have you heard anything of my old friend. Ruth Lush? ' I questioned. “Ruth Lush,” she replied, “has just married an eccentric rich man. She is noted for her interest in Free Soup for the poor.” Here, I descried a familiar form approaching. “Why Katherine Becbee!” I cried. “Not Beebec any more.” she reminded me, as we greeted each other. “Come with me to our Political Club luncheon at calc’s, won’t you?” she asked. “No, not Teal's—Veale's. I have a paper on ‘The Franchise.’ We arc all crazy about politics.” At Veale’s 1 found a very select crowd, including Rochester's social leaders, Helen Burrell and Mona Quine, and I heard instructive papers by Helen Owen and Vera Van Arsdale. At the end of the political discussion, 1 discovered that all were happily married. Mrs. Becker had news from Clara Hopkins, who. with her husband, was seeing France, personally conducted by Charles Hawks. Besides, Mr. and Mrs. Gleichauf, Mr. and Mrs. Vincent, Virginia Rice and her husband, and Marjorie David and her husband, were members of the party. Raymond Gleichauf was running Rochester’s largest grocery, in his brother Ralph’s absence. Sara Rosenfcld, President of the club, showed us a picture she had just received, of the wealthy Marjorie Cohn, who was in New York. The photo- graph was marked, “The Cottrell Studio.” When the meeting was over. I decided to visit Adelia Venor, who, I heard, lived near. On my way I saw the young contractor, Charles Aufdcrhar, entering Wronker’s Barber Shop, and I stopped in at DeVita Bondi’s fine fruit store. Isabelle Levy, the cashier, told me that Charles Mondo, Charles Maggio, and Christopher Celano were getting rich from the joint ownership of a Virginia Reel at Charlotte, where Maurice Wiesner owned the hotel. 15

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proverbial slipper to a small culprit while wails floated forth on the air. Next door, Anna Parker, a dressmaker, was working in her garden. We soon reached the Walden School, which was conducted on strictly new principles. Each pupil's scat was a well-padded chair, or lounge, and there were intermissions for yawning. On the way back we saw Ralph Dublin, the railroad magnate, playing golf. Then I met Frederica Summerhavs—no longer Summerhays—and she promptly announced, “You arc going to Burbank Young’s wedding with me this minute, and there I was in the great flower-decorated church, listening to the organ pealing under the touch of Gladys Wilkins. Then the bride, whom I recognized, and Burbank Young appeared, and Fred Remington, the newspaper man, and Walter Hamilton as ushers and Esther Payne as maid of honor followed. I heard Herbert Soule performing the ceremony and Edwin Appel, the best man, sobbing loudly. Then all was over, and I was on my way with Frederica to the performance of the great play that night. On the way, she told me about Florence Drumm, Clara Kaiser, Marie Seifert, and A Hie Williams, who were running a co-operative cottage in the country for fresh air children. Bur now we bad reached the theater, and taken our places next to Ruth Levy and her husband. File balcony tickets were three dollars, and no wonder, Martha Jane Judson starred, Louise Waters played a comic part, and Margaret Schaft was a pronounced success. The dashing hero was Willard Clark, Kenneth Henderson the dark-haired villain, and Louis Arentz proved irresistibly funny in a humorous role. Bur amid the lights and music, I grew drowsier, and drowsier. Dimly now 1 saw Mr. Frederick Betz and his wife witnessing the play from the nearc t box. Now all was darkness. Then 1 awoke. The morning sun was flooding the face of the Sphinx, v v which had given me the g’orious dream. I was no longer lonely, but happy in t t thinking of the fortunate class of June, 12. “And just as the Sphinx, I thought, “has stood out a glorious figure t t through all the ages, so may the name and fame of our class of June, 12, forever r r remain in the world.” And one of the stone eyes winked. Julia A. Rogers. 17