Elston High School - Elstonian Yearbook (Michigan City, IN)

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softly, “The first lives here still, the second is married and gone, and the third has passed to the great school beyond.” He remained silent for a few seconds looking far out over the sleeping city. “These three girls attended High School in the primitive little Elston building on the corner of Fourth and Pine.” he continued. Following that first class, there have been forty-one classes graduated. Only twice have I returned to realize the disappointment of no graduating class. That was in the years of 1874 and 1885. Each class has increased in number until the present one consists of about fifty boys and girls.” During this long and successful period of forty-four years only five superintendents have guided the school interests. The honored and loved S. E. Miller was the first leader to whom the people of Michigan City entrusted the education of their boys and girls.” It was Mr. Miller who organized the High School as a separate department in 1859, and it was under his successful supervision of twenty-one years that the old Central building was built in 1876 to accommodate the increasing number of students. J. C. Black succeeded him. While Edward Boyle was superintendent, the old Central was very badly damaged by fire in 1896. School was resumed in Barker Hall and other places until the present Central building was constructed. J. G. Moore and P. A. Cow- gill succeeded, followed by L. W. Keeler, our present well known superintendent. During the office of Mr. Keeler, the Central School was outgrown, and our modern Isaac C. Elston High School was added to the schools of Michigan City in 1910 as a High School proper. This school surpasses all others with its manual training, domestic science, music, and physical training departments. and its auditorium and reception hall. Side by side with these superintendents, have gone strong principals and untiring teachers, who have helped greatly to make the schools of Michigan City what they are today.” He paused. The sands in his hour glass were nearly run out. Oh. the past.” he continued, “was inspiring, the present is glorious, and the future—” At these words, a glad smile illumined his strong face, and his uark eyes, in which all the joy and experience of ages seemed to lie gathered, were fixed on the distance. The clock on St. Paul's began to toll twelve. He ceased speaking. His body gradually became a part of the enveloping darkness, his face with its happy prophetic expression alone standing out. At the twelfth stroke, a film of light passed across his face. The Spirit of Father Wisdom had fled. With an etTort, I aroused myself from my meditation. Reverently. I passed down the silent halls, still seeming to breathe of the presence of Father Wisdom, and slowly out of the school to join my classmates in the wide world. [10]

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A GLANCE AT THE PAST (By Mildred Blair) The last of the merry voices floated up to me as the Class of 1915 passed from the High School, forever. Heavy silence reigned throughout the dimly lighted halls, broken only by the lonely ticking of the clocks,—clocks ticking out the passing of another year and the graduation of another class. Why did I linger? It was all over: class day, Junior reception, graduation,—every thing. And yet I lingered on our commencement night to say farewell once more to the High School building, with its endearing school-day associations. I wandered down the lonely halls, peering first into one and then into another class room, once teeming with life and enthusiasm but now dark and forsaken. Everything seemed strange in the semi-darkness and my echoing footsteps startled me. I paused at the landing and became lost in meditation. The four years of our High School course passed slowly through my memory. The first three years were filled with development and expectation for the crowning Senior year in which all our hopes and desires were realized. My thoughts then turned back to the classes that had gone before, those which we, as underclassmen, had admired, and the other numerous classes which now belong to the past but have given the present age a high standard to maintain. I wished to know of the past of our High School. I gazed fixedly before me, lost in reverie, when slowly I became conscious of another presence. From out of the monotonous shadows, gradually emerged the loose-robed figure of an old man with a flowing white beard. His eyes were fixed on an hour glass in his hand. “Ah, this must lie the Spirit of Wisdom,” I thought, “The old man fabled to roam about the school on every commencement night from eleven to twelve, to recall the past and to leave inspiration for the coming year.” “From out of the dim past, I can recall the first graduation from the High School of Michigan City.” He was speaking in low musing tones, and I crept closer that I might not lose one word of that which I had so long wished to hear. “ ’Twas forty-four years ago. in 1871,” he continued, that the first three young ladies. Mary F. Behan. Alice Brett, and Sarah Farrar, completed the two years’ course and proudly received their diplomas in the old Congregational Church, where the first exercises were held.” I almost piped up from the shadows. Virgil’s ancient maxim. Dux femina facti ” (the leader was a woman) when I held my peace, for the old man was adding [»J

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