Evanston Township High School - Key Yearbook (Evanston, IL)

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MR. BEARDSLEY The high towers of E. T. H. S. which stretch far toward the blue of heaven in summer and stand out majestically silhouetted against the frozen sky of winter did not grow up of their own accord. Neither is it chance which placed our buildings on a great plot of fifty-five acres, so that sun light, fresh air, and a great athletic field might always be the heritage of young Evanstonians. Chance does not bring about such accomplish- ments as this, it was the foresight of a great man which made E. T. H. S. the outstand- ing school it is today. Our class was the last of some twenty-two classes which had the privilege of know- ing Mr. Beardsley as principal. Although it was only during a period of months that we knew his guidance, we felt to the fullest measure the warmth, the friendliness, and the greatness of our principal. Now we have progressed to seniors, we have not known him for four years, yet our esteem for him has grown greater with each succeeding year as we see his remarkable plan of an ideal school still thriving, still growing, and still un- folding as he planned it should do. For years before the first ground was broken for our present school, Mr. Beardsley was quietly investigating, planning, and modeling in his own mind a school adequate for the needs of the growing community. A location had to be found which would meet several requirements. First, the school must own sufficient ground both to allow for ex- pansion of buildings, and to permit always having an athletic field on the site. Moreover, it was necessary to find a location which would be central to all sections of the town. Because Mr. Beardsley realized that Evanston could develop only toward the west, he looked to the west for a location which would be suitable both for the present and future. After he had seen the possibilities of the farm land which lay between Church and Lake streets 'along Dodge Avenue, he would often bring groups of citizens out and show them his prairie sight, and point out to them in detail the great advantages of such a location. Before long, they too were boosting the project, and constantly the idea gained favor with the community until at last Mr. Beardsley's dream was realized and the school constructed. The building, however, Mr. Beardsley well knew was only the first step toward the development of a great school. First and foremost in any school must come the establish- ment of a high scholastic record. Toward this end Mr. Beardsley constantly strove, and today the recognition given Evanston High School throughout the entire country speaks well for his efforts. Mr. Beardsley was not alone a leader in educational and civic circles, but he was a friend to every one. As freshmen we well remember that he could be dignified and yet be a real friend to us. As our class was the last to know Mr. Beardsley, we say both for ourselves and for those classes which have gone before, that in his passing we felt the loss of a friend, a gentleman, and a leader whose name will always remain revered in E. T. H. S. Seventeen

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CLASS SKETCHES The freshman is the little lad who holds in such worshipful awe the first floor- particularly the lobby-and those who use it. He is industrious and never fails to carry home a bulging brief-case. He rather enjoys his new life and its busy days, for he 'is indeed always in a hurry to get . . . where? In his own eyes the sophomore is a veteran with some polish of sophistication. He feels that he realizes the cares and responsibilities of life, and tries very hard not to be mistaken for a freshman. He feels himself quite capable of doing 'as much as of more than those who have preceded him, yet he respects the senior as one who has had more experience. He is nearing seventeen. i The junior has arrived on the first floor, where he hopes that some one will mistake him for a senior. He is in a new atmosphere-politics, class elections, 1 a-nd committees-the Junior Cotillion. He is making a name for m himself athletically and scholastically. He loses his awe of the Q senior, but still respects his position. College is still a long way - away, so he does not worry much about his studying. The senior-demigod of the freshman-is weighed down by the responsibilities of life. He complains somewhat of the size of the assignments, but feels no little pride in carrying about a copy of Vergil's Aeneid or a fourth-year French book. The twin towers seem to him to rest on his shoulders. He must publish the Year Book, edit the Evanston- ian, command the R. O. T. C., and represent the school athletically, scholastically, and socially. He views with 'apprehension the approach of the College Board Examinations. Perhaps he tries to make up for three wasted years. He is not so serious as he is sometimes said to be. Once in a while he enters into a bit of horseplay, which reminds one of that familiar sentence in the school catalogue about young ladies and gentlemenf' Sooner than he realizes comes the rush of graduation. He has finished his four years for morej, yet he does not feel much different from what he did when he entered the school. THE EVANSTON PHANTOM L, The Evanston headless horseman has been riding the gridiron for many years. This year he has carried high the colors of Orange and Blue, and has helped us march on to the championship. When things looked bad for us, and we were face to face with defeat, the fai-nt strains, of Down the Field would be heard. An unseen force wouldbpen a hole in our opponent's line, and send our backs romping through. The opposing men would fall before us, as if mowed down by 'a machine gun, while our ball carrier would over for a touchdown. Was it the headless rider who caused this, or was it good work' on the part of the team? Who knows? Who is this ghost rider? It might be Goacher, Merrell, Sullivan, or Keing for these four seem to be the horsemen of the grid. But wait, donit be too hasty in making your choice. This phantom does not ride at night as you would expect, but every Saturday afternoon during football season. Sixteen

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SENIOR EVENING The old and very famous tradition of Evanston Township High School to set aside a time when all the seniors could get together informally and enjoy one of the most de- lightful of senior festivities was carried on by the class of 1931, and Senior Evening was held on Saturday, February twenty-first. As groups of students arrive in the evening, all with the same thought that at last the seniors have something to themselves, they go about, their faces wreathed in smiles- all friends under the strangely glamorous Orange and Blue lights which give a soft glow to what would otherwise be just the same old halls of school hours. A slip of paper on which is printed one of the following: Northwestern,', Wis- consin, Illinois,,' Michigan, Qhicago, or Purdue, is pinned on the mystified senior with instructions to go to the lobby. Almost as one mass they do as they are told and here a big surprise is in store, for nothing is more friendly than the fires that blaze so cheerily in each of the two fireplaces, these shining fires along with the Orange and Blue lights stimulate even the haughtiest of the haughty seniors into being human. Soon the lobby is filled with eager joy seekers, where they are told that the people labeled with the names of certain colleges are to go to certain rooms. In the Northwestern room peanut races and chalk walking are tried, and in the Wfisconsin room- Oh! What precious brown eyes!,, . . . Who is she? . . . Isn,t it just simply ador . . . What! Who? Dave Truman? Oh-h-h-h! And other audible gasps are heard. A blond baby is shown next but since its rompers aren,t striped we don't recognize it. Do you think you know? Well, it's Bob Hoel. Suitcase races are struggled through in the Illinois room. The poor boy looks so hot trying to get into a slicker that seems to have no armholes at all, and the girl who easily got her coat on and is halfway down the hall suddenly loses a galosh that is six sizes too big. The boy reached the end, throws the galoshes and coat into the suitcase, and speeds back to find that the suitcase hasn't stood the excitement and-well, maybe the boys will win next time. Intriguing feats of magic are performed in the Chicago room, while in the Michigan room Felix appears in a moving picture. They assemble again in the lobby, where Albert McPherrin sings two solos, accompanied by Dick McKnight. Then, as should become any strictly senior gathering, a most serious and tragic melodrama, Wild Nell of the Plains, is given by ive theatrically talented seniors. Wild Nell is played by Jack Sullivan, who looks as wild as any Wild Nell should. The hero, Handsome Harry, as portrayed by Bill McKinnon is too nice a boy scout for Nellg so Lady Vere de Vere, stunning and petite in blue chiffon who in private life is Bonnie Schnur, supplies the second woman in the triangle. Two Indians are howlingly done by Dave Truman and Jack Dille. The plot, as I,have hinted, contains a triangle started because Wild Nell is hopelessly in love with Handsome Harry who, not knowing of Nell's passion for him, falls in love with Lady Vere de Vere. Nell, determined to win Handsome Harry,s love away from Lady Vere de Vere, has her kidnapped by Indians. Harry dashes up and Nell confesses what she has done, the two leap into a canoe in hot pursuit. They finally arrive at the Indian's camping ground where Harry sees Lady Vere de Vere tied to a stake. The moment arrives and jumping on the Indians, Nell and Harry beat them to death. Lady Vere de Vere is released and as Harry clutches her fondly in his embrace, Nell kills herself. Everyone is so wrought up that he can hardly tear himself away to go and indulge in the sandwiches, cakes, and punch that follow. After gorging themselves, they join in a grand march from the rear of the building up the center hall to the front where danc- ing follows with music by an orchestra led by a talented senior, Dick McKnight. Perhaps it was only after the senior had left those gay surroundings that he rea- lized for the first time the true significance of that enjoyable evening. The fact must have come to him that it was the beginning of the end. He probably became a little sad at the thought, but still it had been fun and he had the memory of seeing the school in a more hilarious mood than he had ever seen it before or would ever see it again. Eighteen