Fairbury Cropsey High School - Crier Yearbook (Fairbury, IL)

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JUNIORS KATHERINE ROACH MARJORIE SCHNETZLER ELIZABETH SOMERVILLE MARIAN SOMERVILLE MARGOT SPENCE CARLLENE STEIDINGER FLORENCE SUTTER MAURICE SUTTER CHARLES THOMAS FRANCES TOLLENSDORF VIRGIL TRAVIS RUBY VANCE HARRY WAGENSELLER JERRY WILSON WAYNE WINTERLAND HERBERT WISER EDITH YEAGLE PEARL WELSSER 25

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ROY CARDER BETTY CLARK CARL EILERS LOIS FITZGERALD BETTY GROVE CHARLES HANES DOROTHY HENNING RALPH HOFFMAN ELLA JAMES IMOGENE JESSUP JOHN LORGH ELSIE MAE METZ JOAN MILNE JANET MOORE CHARLOTTE NANCE LOIS NEWNAM RICHARD RICE LYLE RICKETTS JUNIORS 24

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CLASS PROPHECY The scene is a tavern called the “Greasy Spoon,” a smoke-filled, foul- smelling dive on the San Francisco water front. The year is 1962. The hour is 2 a. m. A lone candle throws a dim. flickering light on two bleary-eyed, bewhiskered sailors, each drooped over a table. Slowly, clumsily, one of them raises his head, shakes a matted lock of red hair out of his face, and mumbles, “Shay, matey, anchor your carcass over here and help me stow away a little of this rum.” The other, pulling the seaweed out of his curly black beard, and parting it to speak, says: “Don’t mind if I do. Wait’ll I shake the blarsted barnacles off me wooden leg.” After he is seated, he peers into the other’s grizzled face. “Well, shiver me timbers, if you ain’t old George Thomas of the old tub, the ‘Sea Fanny!’” “And you’re Wayne Hish, the bloody first mate of the Schooner ‘Rock Bot- tom!’ Are ye still up to your old tricks of chasing mermaids?” “Nope. I’ve given it up. The last one I caught kept flirting with the gold- fish.” “This night brings back memories of old F. T. H. S.” Where’s that barmaid, Jean Hurt? I want another bottle of rum!” “Oh, she’s been promoted. She’s sling- ing hash at ‘Stagger Inn’ in Frisco. You ought to stop in there and see our old schoolmate, Betty Flanagan, in her ballet dance. You remember Robert Cooper. He’s an F. B. I. agent now.” “Is that where Jim French and his Blue Note Boys are playing? I hear he’s been awarded the title ‘King of Corn,’ and was chosen the most un- promising band of 1963.” “Did you read in the paoer the other day about Junior Bunting’s amazing new theory? He says when you’re out hunting and you see a flock of ducks flying overhead, don’t shoot—save your bullets for defense. The fall will kill them anyhow.” “Sneaking about hunting, remember Francis Winterland? He has a job every season as ? duck decoy. But he can’t fool the ducks; they know he's quacked.” “I hear Virgil Price and Francis Paternoster have set up a fiendish part- nership. Virgil’s an undertaker and Francis, who’s a doctor, accidentally slugs his clients over the head with a brickbat when their backs are turned—• and—well, you can draw your own con- cussions.” “Did you hear that Dugie Scouler won the booby prize in the annual Beauty- Physique contest in Florida,” “Yeah, and speaking of physique, what ever happened to Mary Fuller?” “Oh, she’s just published a new book called ‘What to Do When Men Get Fresh,” or “How to Stay Respectable, in Ten Easy Lessons.’ Tsk, tsk, and she in the market for a husband!” “Ray Bess and his wife, the former Mary Hurt, have split up. They’re hav- ing a terrible time dividing up the twen- ty-eight kids. But, after all, they say the first twenty years are the hardest.” “Yep. That’s marriage. Did you hear the rumor that’s going around about Wilma Jean Munz and Pauline Zimmer- man? It seems that they’ve lost all hope of ever catching any men, and have devoted their lives to missionary work among the heathen in darkest Africa.” “Say, did you hear about poor Rose Noble? She was so broken up over Grip Porter’s firing her, and her husband Floyd Masters’ running away with an- other woman, that she hanged herself from a chandelier with a silk stocking.” “Who was the other woman?” “Oh. that old vamp, Vivian McHatton. She’s been trying to hook him for nigh onto ten years. Even promised him a half share in her pig farm if he’d marry her.” “Say, George, whatever happened to Lillian Woodard?” “Oh------” (George whispers something in Wayne’s ear). “O-o-o-o-h-h-h-h-!-!-!-!” “I sorta make it a point to look up our old classmates. Why, just t’other day I found Frank Merrill doing some deep sea diving. Tsk, tsk, he was such a nice boy. He went down 500 feet, but forgot to connect the air hose.” “Too bad! Say, a couple of years ago I was down in Peoria, and stopped in at that night club, ‘Talk of the Town.’ Dick Deputy was master of ceremonies there, but he told a clean joke, and they 26