Elmira District Secondary School - Oracle Yearbook (Elmira, Ontario Canada)

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THE ORACLE 13 I am indeed proud of the distinction and honour of ,being chosen as valedic- torian on behalf of the 1941 graduating class of Elmira High School. Perhaps the most agitating disturb- ance of a valedictorian is neither the fear of speaking before a large audience, nor the lack of variety of material placed at his disposal, but the thought of expressing himself in a different, pleasing, and interesting manner. In short, reminding himself of the tre- mendous task ahead of him, he feels that he is not capable of rendering such an address, since there is too much to be considered, and he earnestly wishes that he had not consented to do so. It re- minds one of the story of the little negro boy asleep in a watermelon patch, with a half-eaten watermelon by his side. Some nonchalant passerby poked him in the ribs, and said, '6Too much water- melon?', I-Ie replied drowsily, No, too little nigger. As one attempts to assemble such an address, deep in his heart he feels slight involuntary tremblings as to the final success of such an undertaking. Numer- ous outrageous ideas enter his frantic mind, only to be cast aside by his better judgment. In such a state was my mind. While I was experimenting with many different kinds of phrases, my mind seemed to wander, and as my eyelids became heavy, I felt myself being swept past the decades on the silvery wings of the zephyrs, into a world some thirty years hence. Thus did I visualize my- self setting out on a tour of that future world. To my amazed self I was sailing across the Atlantic Ocean, in an enorm- ous ocean liner. In the invigorating ocean air, as I was ambling carefree along the deck, I was attracted below to the thundering roar of the engine room. While I observed the workmen there, I came upon one -whose movements seemed familiar, and whose brilliant red hair seemed to stand out, as he shovelled coal into the hot furnaces, seemingly enjoy- ing his work. On closer observation, I noticed him to be Bill Lutz, a former co-worker in Chemistry and an eager helper in playing any sort of pranks. Having reached England, I decided to remain there for a few days, and during a tour of the sights, we were conducted by a guide of medium stature and with coal-black hair. Later on we recognized each other, and I was able to chat once more with a former school-mate, John Morris. From there my fantastic jour- ney led me to Italy, a land of sunshine. Urged on by my hunger and curiosity, I came upon a small store operated by a fruit and vegetable vendor. As I was about to make a purchase there, imagine my surprise when someone said to me Hello, Fred , and looking up, I saw Willard Miller staring at me from be- hind a counter piled high with fruit. After a brief discourse my mind was again sailing, this time across the Medi- terranean Sea, to the dark continent of the world, Africa. There I felt lost in the midst of the untamed jungles, as I was accompanied 'by dark-skinned na- tives. One day, on one of my explora- tions, I was enlightened by the thought of passing through a village where at least a few white people dwelt. On being taken there, I was astonished to meet Gladys Hollinger, serving as a missionary's wife. It was indeed pleas- ing to speak, in such a remote place, of many past, pleasant experiences. From there, my next stop was India. At the point of debarkation, I noticed a small crowd of admirers following closely upon the heels of a high-ranking Air Force Official, who hurried down the street with stately strides. g By a few by- standers, I was informed that he was Air Vice-Marshall Laverne Watson, in

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FIRST PRIZE DRAWING -Kathleen Lorch, IX A

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14- THE ORACLE charge of air operations in India. Many indeed were the mischievous tricks that we could have recalled at that time. I decided to take a few days, rest, and passed my leisure time in viewing the sights at Bombay. I was attracted there by the strange shouts of a Hindu for- tune-teller, who was yelling something out in his shrill Arabic tongue. Upon his unexpected invitation, I entered into his tent, where he unmasked himself, and I once more renewed my memory of Ray Bott, our smiling mathematician. Among other things, he told me how thriving his business was. From there my inspired mind wandered to China. I could scarcely conjecture whom I might meet in that strange land. How- ever, as we approached the sea-coast, a huge crowd of people was seen stream- ing toward the docks. At one of the piers was tied a large boat. A small party of people descended from the boat, and through my field glasses, one lady seemed to resemble Mary Welker. Later on I was told it was Mary, and she was now the wife of the new British envoy to China. At least one classmate had entered the nobility. The last lap of my journey took me on board the China Clipper bound for the U.S.A. Here, too, I was to be en- lightened by the companionship of past friends. Upon entering the flying boat, we were accommodated by a stewardess, whose friendly manner made us feel entirely at ease, and whose long hair seemed to fall like golden strands upon her shoulders. By means of various questions, I found her name to be Jenny Ritter, and it was only then, that I realized that I could now converse with a former graduate, and a leading actor at many High School Commencements. During my flight, I was seated beside a sophisticated lady, who was registered in the log book as a teacher of foreign languages at Columbia University. We spoke occasionally, and more frequently when we began to recall our younger days at school. To our mutual surprise, we realized that we had been school- mates. Yes, it was Orma Stevens, who, together with the rest of us, used to roam about the halls of Old Elmira High. The seaplane landed at San Francisco, and as I made my way toward the train depot, I came upon a marble statue erected in Athletic Square on which were inscribed the following words: '4Dedi- cated to the memory of Helena Klinck, that famous professional sprinter, whose record in the 100 yard dash still stands? Many were the memories that rushed to my mind as I stood silently beneath its towering heights. In the last portion of my trip, I found myself seated in a train, suitably called the '6Silver Streak . My first act there was to purchase a news- paper, so that I might bring myself up to date with the news, from which I had been so long absent. As I glanced through the edition, I came upon a page entitled '6Modern Rhythm . My startled eyes gazed upon a picture of the leading dance orchestra of the day, under which was printed the following words, 6'Ralph Howlett and His Hotshots, starring that famous Blue Singer, Grace Orr. I could hardly believe my eyes, but I held firm to the old adage, Pictures talk. The remainder of the trip seemed uneventful until a slight commotion occurred in the rear of the train car, and in ambled an elderly porter, shout- ing: Peanuts, peanuts, chocolate bars and chewing gum. My, but that voice had an intimate ring as it was repeated! As he approached my seat, he began to smile and I recognized Walter Henrich in the person of the porter. One can easily imagine the nature of our dis- cussions for the remainder of the trip. The train sped along softly, and rapidly approached our fair land. Unexpectedly, the brakes started screeching and we were thrown on the floor with a terrific jolt, as the Silver Streak crashed. My mind became blank, as I wasrendered unconscious. Upon' being revived my eyes were foggy as I faintly beheld the uniform of a Red Cross Nurse standing tContinued on Page 751