Essex High School - Odyssey Yearbook (Tappahannock, VA)

Page 23 text:

Cia )A S ti Tune; Lilac Time Our school days here have passed and gone, Yet the sweet memories linger on. We know ' tis true, ±at Essex, well do The things you ' d have us to. For deep in our hearts there will lie. Our school days here at old Essex High. ' Tis sad to part with those we love. Who made us strive for those things above. Who for four years, the smiles and tears Taught us the things to shun: Taught us the meaning of right. That made our school life so bright. Our t reasure chest, in it will lie Sweet memories of Essex High, Guarded by lock and golden key. There to remain through eternity. We ' ll cherish the lessons you taught us. Also the meaning they brought us. Chorus Farewell, dear Essex, fare thee well, In our hearts you ' ll forever dwell. Good-bye, dear teachers, you ' re so kind and true.

Page 22 text:

Otaem O class ' 56, with such a great band. As we leave Ole Essex we must understand. When we leave this part, be kind and true. Never forget the fundamentals taught to us. Honorable classmates, we are about to go. Brave up, prepare for life ' s tough blow. The race is calling for leaders bold. The world is wide with opportunities untold. Let us all brace up and get into the game. Fight hard to uphold our honorable name. Old Father Time is beckoning you. He has much for this class to do. We sing, we speak, we teach and dance. We all know life is a game of chance. This foundation, strong and bold. The power of thought, with keen vision and self control. We ' ll pull through with might and main. Struggle hard, O class of 56 and win your fame. We leave you, dear teachers, with grief in our h earts. For it ' s now time for us to depart. Your loving care has guided us right. With your knowledge of instruction, we now see the light. So, good-bye, dear faculty we ' ve but to say Your pupils are leaving to be great someday. --Sarah Cauthorne

Page 24 text:

3 Jie Aec Tired and weary at heart from my search among the ruins of the ages for that most cov- eted of prizes, the crystal globe, which would enable me to see far into the future, I sat down to rest at the base of an old pyramid. Suddenly the thought came-- You have not searched here; try this before giving up. Arising, I looked at the network of stone and fate bade me to enter. Through a labyrinth of secret passages and a winding maze of time, Ihad attained the entrance to the mysterious chambers of the Ancient Sear in the underground depths of the pyramids. I firmly brushed aside the portiere and passed into the dimly-lighted room. Clouds of pungent incense arose incessantly from theseveral oddly formed urns at the base of an immense golden shrine. The entire chamber seemed steeped in mysterism. At the center of the room upon a beautiful golden tripod reposed a huge, transparent crystal sphere in which could be seen the future, present, or past of mortal man. Standing exultantly before it I cried, O mirror of all ages, show to me the Class of ’56! Trembling, yet eager, 1 gazed into the crystal ball. It suddenly assumed a milky whiteness that gradually became clear. Crowds, rov upon row, were squirming among an ocean of seats. They rose to look upon tlie portrait designed by Mary Hill, tlie Queen of Arts. Tile scene changes, I see a home of the Spanish type. Inside a dainty young lady moves easily about, placing a chair here and a pillow tliere. She stops to smooth the hair of a handsome man, who reposes in an easy chair. They look up and smile, and I see that they are our own Barbara Taylor, a criminal lawyer, and James Jackson, a mechanic. They are now Mr. and Mrs. James Jackson.