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

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Introduction “How do you do; my name is Smokey. Although you had never seen Cindy and me until you turned the preceding page, we have, nevertheless, been around here, watching you people at work for a long time. Cindy and 1 met in Chicago a few years ago, and we both decided that it would be interesting to see what boys and girls were doing in high school these days. A Michigan Central engine — the one on this page, by the way — overheard our conversation and suggested that we come down here to visit the Isaac C. Elston High School in Michigan City. “We enjoyed our first visit so much that we agreed then and there to come back as often as we could. The war upset many of our plans, and we couldn't come so often as we would have liked to. There was many a time when 1 was on the road twenty-four hours; and my days off, few and far between as they were, had to be spent in resting and undergoing repairs. “Cindy fared little better. 1 remember limping into the terminal late one night with a burned-out connecting rod bearing. My rod hurt so much that 1 paid little attention to the other locomotives near the round house, and when 1 was hailed by the soot-stained engine w ith the oil spattered wheels which stood on the next track, I could hardly believe my ears. Yes, it was Cindy.” “If I dare say, Smokey, there were times during the war when your appearance was nothing about which to toot your whistle, but 1 really interrupted to offer an explanation. You readers may wonder w'hy Smokey and I can talk, but an engine would have to be pretty empty between the marker lights to have spent as much time in high school as we have and not to have learned anything.” “All right. Cindy, let me finish what I have to say. Our readers may be interested in why the staff chose a railroad theme for the ELSTONIAN this year. Well it’s our idea. Cindy’s and mine. We are both very proud of the railroads, and while talking with the editor-in-chief one day last spring, we must have let our enthusiasm get a little out of hand, because before we could say New York. Susquehanna. and Western, his mind and pencil were going like the Super Chief. He presented the idea to the staff, and this book is the result. They hope that you like it. “Like anything which plays an essential part in our everyday lives, the railroad is taken for granted. We cannot possibly imagine an America or a world without railroads. Much of that which made our nation great is the sweat, smoke, steel, and steam of the railroad industry. “It took the thin iron rails of the Union Pacific, Great Northern, Baltimore and Ohio, Newr York Central, Santa Fe, and many others to link successfully and permanently the East and West, thus uniting these U nited States. Today the life blood of this nation pulses swiftly, twenty-four hours a day, over a vast network of steel behind the staccato bark of steam locomotives, the guttural thunder of diesels, and the smooth, quiet murmur of electric power. “Here I am giving you the same lecture I gave the editor last spring, but it’s the truth, and I am sincere in every word I have said. Come on, Cindy, let’s highball. We have a lot of track to cover!” The staff wishes to express its appreciation to the Illinois Central System, the Southern Pacific Lines, and the Chicago, South Shore and South Bend Railroad for the excellent cooperation which made possible many of the photographic reproductions in this book. The Southern Pacific supplied the half-title color plate; the Illinois Central, the photographs on pages three, seven, seventeen, fifty-one, seventy-five, and ninety-three; and the South Shore, the illustration on page one hundred-five. — 4

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The Senior Class presents THE 1947 ELSTOIUN YEARBOOK OF THE ISAAC C. ELSTON SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL MICHIGAN CITY, INDIANA Editor - in - chief: Donald Allison Business Manager: Stuart Brolly Supervised by: M iss Goldie Shepherd

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Within These Portals These doors are quite familiar to the average hoy and girl of Michigan City, as is the case with anything which one encounters several times a day for the better part of three years. Much happens in that surprisingly short period of time between one’s first bewildering entry into the high school through these doors and that day when they swing shut behind one for the last time, thus concluding a very pleasant chapter in one’s life. The many experiences encountered during one’s high school days, some of which will be recalled with greater pleasure than others, are mellowed by the passing of time, and the senior walking out to Detroit Street for the last time usually finds his eyes growing just a little dim with nostalgia. The front doors of the high school are like the opening of a kaleidoscope, in which is revealed hundreds of colorful, ever-changing experiences. There is no finer way to start the day off right than by walking toward the building on a bright and warm April morning, with the voices of the glee club members wafting from open windows and the cottonwoods on the lawn looking as if someone had impishly dusted them with snow during the night. Think of all the smells which we have come to associate with the high school: the tempting odors which float up from the cafeteria at that time of the morning when the hands of the clock appear as if they will never reach 11:45; the penetrating smell of paint and varnish which permeates the building on the first day of school; the savory, unmistakable odor of the Junior Class s pop corn which finds its way to the building from the new auditorium the afternoon before a basketball game; and last, hut certainly not least, those indescribable stenchs produced by chemistry students. If their proficiency in the field of chemistry is equal to the power, variety, and penetrating quality of the odors which they induce with so little apparent effort, we have a number of potential chemical engineers in our midst. Day-to-day school affairs are occasionally brightened, perhaps merely by a convocation or a pep session. Speculation is rampant whenever a social event approaches. Who’s going with who?” is the all-important question. The atmosphere is electric with ever-increasing expectancy the week before that day marked in red on any upper classman’s calendar — the Junior Class Prom. There are times, like report card or exam days, when the prevailing atmosphere is one of restlessness and uneasiness. Then, despite the frequency with which they are received, one always experiences a hard, cold, rather shocking blow in the stomach, accompanied by the thought “Now' what have I done?” on being presented one of those small slips of paper requesting the recipient’s presence in the office of C. F. Humphrey AT ONCE! The business of learning is hard work, regardless of whether you are a commercial, a vocational, or an academic student; but if we had to, we wouldn’t mind doing it again, because we enjoyed every — well, almost every minute of it! — 5 —