El Reno High School - Boomer Yearbook (El Reno, OK)

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COLLEGE STAFF FOR 1950 BILL McNAUGHT Editor BOB MARQUARDT Assistant Editor THOMAS TOOMEY Writeups JOAN MARTIN Fine Arts FLOYD SYKES Art JACK CLADY Art NOMAN STEVENSON Snapshots DON ROBLYER Sports CALENDAR OF EVENTS With bright and shining faces—no—better start over again. With bright and shining faces (the girls), and un- shaven, bearded faces—callow youths that most of us are—we trudge off to join the great majority of students. We have a great resolve in mind—we are going to study— for the first time in our lives. (Hah! We should be so dumb.) We overrule the highschool students now, boy, what joy. Trey had better not get in our path—we’re going to college. Some of us are not familiar with the rules and regs of the school and stumble from room to room, trying to locate ourselves. Ah, hah! Success. There it be! Registration! I made it. School finally started, and our smiling upright coun- tenances turn from joy to gloom. Shucks, we have to study in college—I didn’t know that. One or two of the students get spring fever in September and doze in every other class. Cat naps? No—class naps. Boy—what wheels—our first Junior College meeting arrives on the horizon. Results? Class officers. Names, rank, and serial number follow: President—WALLACE BAILEY, free, white, and un- der twenty-one. (Youth) Veep—JACK GRAY. Any questions, remarks, or incantations? Secretary—MARY ELLEN PORTER. Just a girl. The boys hate ’em. (Who is kidding whom?) Treasurer—DON MORRISON. We assigned three men to cover him. Surprisingly enough, we had cash left for several parties. Bobby Lee Ross is asleep. Wonderful couch in the college room. OCTOBER Ho hum! This old grind is getting us. Everyone go- ing around with long faces. Heck! We HAVE to STUDY in COLLEGE. Who mentioned playing his way through school? He has knots in his head. A mixer, in which everyone mixed so well they mixed each other up, was held at Mustang Field. In the mix-up, every guy and gal who was there reported a good time. Bulging here and there, seams straining, smiles smil- ing, the boys and women really enjoyed their little old selves, under the direction of genial, ingenious Dean Porter. The students of zoology had a field day one fine, crisp morning. (Everyone was singing “Oh! What a Beautiful Morning’’—strictly propaganda.) From river- beds to abandoned mills, the scholars trudged (they didn’t run???) hither and yon and then back to school. Did we learn anything, Mr. Porter? I bet you gave up on us. Bobby Lee Ross is still asleep!!!!! — 13-A —

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English—Witcher Speech—Kirkland Shorthand—Noble Trigonometry—Knighl Economics—M oore Government—Shanklin Botany—Porter Sociology—Durham Spanish—Blair Art—Porterfield — 12-A —

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NOVEMBER Ah! A social affair looms in the offing. We don’t have them too offing. (OOOh, as the fish said, That one smelt.”) Beginning with ripping the Rocket Theater apart. OOps. Correction. Beginning with “Knock on Any Door,” the melodrammer at the Rocket, the party wound up at Frankie’s home out at Fort Reno, with re- freshments and entertainment. Wonderful time had by all. With grunting and groaning, Thanksgiving vacation was over, and the folks with too big an appetite and too small a stomach moaned their way back to school. (I’ll swear I saw a couple of turkey legs being carried down the hall.) Anyway, everyone had a stuffed look about him. (Or her.) ROSS WOKE UP IN TIME TO EAT. AT LEAST HE WENT HOME. DECEMBER There’s the holiday we’ve all been waiting for. Christmas—more turkey, a little food for thought about 1950 years ago. What a shape the world has messed itself into. Ah, well, maybe we’ll turn out all right eventually. Wailing and gnashing of teeth is heard abundantly throughout the halls of the school. Highschool students are seen smiling wisely and saying, Junior College stu- dents are not so smart—they have term papers.” Some students developed awful sharp teeth from gnashing. Four of the fair sex were outwitted by foul weather. They were bound for a visit to Southwestern Institute of Technology (is this treason), but this blow stopped them cold—snow and freezing temperatures arrived. But El Reno Junior College dauntless daughters were daunted momentarily. With courage shivering, muffled up just so their eyes would show, they set out anyway. “Call of the Wild Goose,” thy heard it. Alack, alas, and shucks. One of our members took the fatal step—she got married. However, her hubby enrolled with her for the second semester. Look out, brothers—that fatal step will get you. Bobby sleeps on. No snores according to the latest bulletin. JANUARY Friday, 13th, the first semester ends. Anybody here superstitious? I am! The 14th, we enroll for the second semester. A mutter was heard, “but deliver us from all bad marks—” Eight new students were added, but six were lost from the first term. Is that a good percentage? At least we gained a couple. Election of officers for this semester was held. We list them just so they can see their names in print: President and overseer—BILL McNAUGHT. Vice Overseer and party giver—SAM DAVIS. Secretary and shorthand expert—MARY WHITE- MAN (Several students offered to be her boss). Treasurer—ROY RATCLIFF (We must trust him— no vigilantes were appointed). Mr. Porter got out his blacksnake whip and drove his botany class out into the cold, cold, world to gather shoots, limbs, buds, etc., so that the students hight have material from which to garner intellectual, factual, ac- tual, matter-of-factual know-how, thus injecting their gray matter with some knowledge. (Ah! Wishful think- ing.) I distinctly heard him say he gave up. Basketball was ushered in with the first home game of the season. They beat a team from Sayre. I still don’t think Hahn ran between the tall boy’s legs—maybe it was Kessler. Nor do I believe Hahn stood on Preno’s shoul- ders in order to outreach one of the Sayre boys—I be- lieve someone is pulling my leg. FEBRUARY Gee! Would you believe it? Something new to break— oops. (Shouldn’t have said that—an instructor heard me.) Anyway, new furniture has been purchased just for us— that’s my seat. Get off it! Allright, so he is bigger than I am. Sure is pretty, though. Can I touch it? You mean we can sit down? Boyyy. This is the life. Sure is nice to have our own lounge. Just call us lizards. Ross—wake up. Doggone, we woke him up to have his picture taken and he has failed me. He’s remained awake. The miracle has happened—call in all the cynics and we can prove that Ross can remain awake longer than the five min- utes it takes to change classes. The basketball team lost a close one to the Weather- ford team—everyone is still moaning that “we wuz rob- bed. We aren’t hard lasers, but we just hate to lose. After the game, we had a party in the college lounge— canasta being the main game played. Several of the teachers were seen to have a wild, vicious gleam of con- flict in their eyes as the games progressed. They seemed to be winning, but do you think???? Yes. indeed, chil- dren, they can lose at times. Anyway, the party was a great success. MARCH Oh—what a wildhouse. The annual is in the process of formation. Last month we had a little trouble getting some of the fellows to have their pictures taken. We roped one or two of the backward members, tied them up, slicked their hair down with axle grease and carried them in triumph into the room where they had their photos taken. Such goings-on. St. Patrick’s Day—March 17—green the predomin- ant color. Everyone singing Irish songs—what an accent some of them have. Another parr-rty in the lounge. Sure and begorra! Another success—with the lounge being decorated in green and white. The Irish present were crazy over the green, but didn’t think much of th white. Surr-re and throw it out! The madcap antics of the Junior College unbalanced speech class, under the direction of Mr. Max Kirkland brought down the house (I mean auditorium) on Carni- val Day, March 30. Combined with the highschool, it was a very successful evening. The speech class pre- sented a zany skit of a gas-house gal and a leaky gas pipe. Funny—everyone held his sides. The play, inci- dentally, was written by Mr. Kirkland. Ah! Spring, spring, springgg-g! Here it is. The male students are displaying more zest and energy than they ever produce in class. You see, my friends, ’tis baseball time. Wild pitches, bean balls, broken bats, broken skulls—what am I saying? We have expert ball hand- lers around here, suh! APRIL The VFW Hut will never be the same again. We had a lovely dance there with most of the junior college and their friends turning out. Also several of the faculty showed they could turn a fancy step dancing—(you younger folks aren’t so good). Good opinions of the in- structors jumped tremendously. Doggone that piece of hay—it’s still down my shirt. I’ll have to change it one of these days. Boy, hay rides sure are the berries. Ah! Nostalgic youth. To top off the hay ride we had a wiener roast near the North Can- adian. With stuffed stomachs, contented cows, we wend- ed our way homeward. It was really fun. MAY Spring Picnic at Medicine Park, near Lawton. Real- ly a good time. We also had a skating party at the Capi- tol Hill Skating Rink in Oklahoma City. We tried to entice several of the students to skate to the city from El Reno on our smooth (?) highway Number 66, but they backed out by claiming it was too short a trip and they would rather ride over in a car. I think it was an alibi, myself. Graduation and summer vacation. Put down those fishing rods—you haven’t finished with school yet, as we have several more days to go. Haven’t you noticed there isn’t a thing written about the date school ends? What’s wrong? School technically ends Wednesday 31, with the largest graduating class El Reno Junior College has ever had. Twelve students will obtain an A.A. Degree. The year 1940, ten degrees were granted. Victory for the class of 1950. O.K. students, you are through. Pick up those fish- ing rods and get out. Ross, you may go home now. — 14-A —