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

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I, Jean Leeteh, leave my ability to lead an orchestra at Chatsworth, also my love for “Louie’s” to Reva Wiser. I, Erma Wallenstein, leave to Helen Green my incessant stool-pigeoning, my love for Home Economics, and my Ned Sparks smile. , I, Ernest Johnson, leave my subtle approach to the fairer sex, and my numerous feminine pursuers, to Jewell Shoemaker. I, Charles Wilken, bequeath to Carroll Besgrove my Alan Ladd technique and Lou Costello figure, providing that he doesn’t abuse the privileges that these character- istics offer. I, Rosemary Crouch, leave my trips on the St. Louis trains, my rippling rhythm laugh, and also my partiality to uniforms to Marilyn Steidinger. I, Chuck Veatch, leave my partiality for pale, pink plaids, putrid penetrating pipes, and passion for parking, to that pompous puff of powder and snuff, Tom Carter, who is in dire need of such characteristics. I, Dorothy Carlson, leave my moronish actions, my love for myself and my inces- sant chattering to that sweet, unspoiled darling of the junior class, Ollie James. I, Ellen Vail, bequeath my pleasing personality, sunny disposition and my warm, tender spot in Dale Dameron’s heart, to Phyllis Drennen. And last but not least, we nominate and appoint Bob Nussbaum to be the sole executor of this Will, providing that he carries out our wishes as we so desire. Signed, sealed, and declared in the presence of the following witnesses. MAIRZY DOATS (Seal) DOZY DOATS (Seal) U. S. Navy (V-12 Style) Join the Navy, you high school lads. Join the Navy, as soon as you’re grads. This man’s force is a mighty tough field. So join the V-12—unless you want to get killed. They told me I would see the sphere, They fed me a line, that’s all too clear. Now', I'm seeing the world in a history book, And moidering Japs with the math I took! We live on a “ship,” three decks in all, We muster, like gobs, to the roll call, We march out the hatchway like a regular fleet. But the sign on the road says “University Street.” We have “chow” in this Navy, we hit our own “sacks,” All our slang is derived from the Navy brass tacks. We wear the jumpers, the skivvies, the “bootsies,” We’re gobs from our ears clear down to our tootsies. Don’t get the idea I don’t like it here, I love this life—let that point be clear. The studies we get, we need, we’re told. To provide us with stuff that will stop the foe cold. It takes teamwork for victory; teamwork for war. From the commander-in-chief to the infantry corps. We’re showing our parents their boys aren’t weak, We wanted our chance, and now we can speak. Let every young fellow, who’s able to take it, Join with this outfit he’s bound to make it. Only if, after awhile, he looks like he’s shot. Don’t be alarmed, it’s this history rot. A S BILL TAGG.

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I, Carlos Bandy, leave to that Romeo, Earl Broquard, my irresistible ways with the Chenoa women (and also a few from Fairbury). I, Glenn Booker, bequeath my Arthur Murray technique of dancing, and ALL my football letters, to my fond and unspoiled brother, Wilbur. I, Doris VonBergen, bequeath my straight, blond hair and my love for the Marine ••him” to that admirer of all the services, Rose Lorch. I, Bill Woodard, leave my indifference to the Fairbury women and my athletic abilities to that “he-man” of the junior class, Ray Fitzgerald. I, Eula Mae Bess, have nothng to leave. I will keep my nightingale voice and numerous other things in hopes that I can use them to find another civilian like Bill. I, Jo Anne Thompson, leave my excess inches in height, my school books, and my ever present giggle to that outstanding comedienne of the sophomore class, Lucetta Wessels. I, Bill Tagg, bequeath my Frank Sinatra voice and the fascination that women hold for me to that baritone of the freshman class, Kenneth Winterland. I, Darrell Peter, leave my low resistance to sailors, my Rogues Gallery of service men’s pictures, to that wolfess of the fresnman class, Cynthia Bittner. I, Dula Mae Dawson, bequeath my nasal-toned voice and my high-pitched giggle to that bang-up vocalist, Nick VonBergen. I, Bob Decker, leave my bold attituoe and Sonja Henie figure to that quiet little Eleanor Walter. I, Jim Degenhart, leave my ability to be always on time, and also my ability to attract proposals from the opposite sex to Richard Kilgus. I, Norma Young, bequeath all my jewelry which I have collected (legally and other- wise) during my two years at Fairbury to Marshall Gordon’s swap-shop. I, George Myers, leave my Veronica Lake hair-do and sour, sulky, sneering snarls, and snorts, to the sunniest soul of the sophomore class, Charles Green. I, Eugene Durham, leave my nickname, “Bull,” and all the insinuations and my “Doiothy” pin to that gent with that shady reputation, Howard Bess. I, Dorothy Wagenseller, leave my desire to remain on the farm all my life, and my ove for the kitties to that lover of wild life, Bob Ziegenhorn. I, Harvey Hartman, leave my ever lingering love for Strawn and its women and its bars to Vivian Schmidt since her interests are also centered in that locality (Bars). I, Jesse Huber, leave my curly locks and my snappy little bashed buggy, to my brother in car trouble, Wee Willie Wilken. I, Jim Rice, leave my drag with the faculty and my undying love for Fran Hildreth, to that junior who also has a drag, but with the female sex, Andy Lehman. We, Joyce and Joan Heins, leave to the next set of twins to enter high school our beautiful understanding that we have for each other, and our mulish” tempeiaments. I, Charlene Schlicher, leave my famous love triangle of Butler, Tull, and Degen- hart to one in need of such, Jacqueline Schade. I, Bob Spence, leave my inexhaustible supply of money with which I purchase the female sex anything their little hearts desire, to that millionaire, Guy Bandy. I, Nina Lou Ramseyer, leave my love for Chenoa women and my everlasting at- tempts to make C. B. jealous, to another gal with the same trouble, Phyllis Somers. I, Don Steidinger, leave my black date book filled to the gills (we mean Don) and also my basement filled to the gills with gum to the O. P. A. I, Margie Jessup, since there is a war on and we must all make sacrifices—I sac- rifice (sob-sob) Clyde Hoffman to Jean Milne for her future use in high school. I, Alden Beckley, leave my drag with Brick Young, and my role of a privileged character to Sam Runyon. I, Emma Lou Huber, leave all my Cropsey admirers, my love for the Navy, and my shady past to one with a likewise reputation, Barbara Steidinger. I, Herschel Butler, leave my deck of cards, and my supply of barrels that I keep on hand for strip poker, to that card shark of the junior class. Bette Wills. I, Florence Gerdes, leave my ability to get ready on a ten-minute notice for a date, and nothing else, for I’ll need all my resources to trap another man since Johnny has been drafted, to that lovesick sophomore, Fran Hildreth. I, Charles Miskell, leave my ability to direct traffic at nights when the high school parking lot is overly congested with cuddle-buggies to the policeman of the junior class. Byard Williams. 22

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SENIOR CLASS PLAY THE SATURDAY EVENING GHOST Tne evening of Friday, April 21, at eight o’clock, on the stage of the Central the- atre, the senior class of 1944 began the events of their graduation with the production of a three-act play. The Saturday Evening Ghost.” This comedy is an adaptation by Tom Taggart of a well known short story by Oscar Wilde. The backgrouud of the action was an old English castle, the home for centuries of the Canterville family. Lord Canterville, the only living member, rented the castle to Mr. Hiram Otis, an American business man, who brought his very American family to England to escape kidnapers and other evils of Chicago. But when they arrived, the Otis family found they had to share the castle with the Canterville ghost, Sir Simon de Canterville, a gentleman of the 16th Century who murdered his wife and had long since established priority on haunting the castle! on Saturday and Wed- nesday nights. The humorous skepticism with which the American Otises handled the situation plus the traditional belief in ghosts, typical of the English, blended comedy and satire into an amusingly gay play. Following was the cast of characters: Lord Canterville; Sir Simon de Canterville, his 16th Century ancestor .... Charles Veatch Mr. Hiram Otis............Ernest Johnson Lucretia, his wife........................Darrell Peter Virginia, their daughter .... Eula Mae Bess Sonny, about 14..........Charles Miskell Pet, his little sister....................Margie Jessup Mrs. Unmey, the housekeeper . . Rosemary Crouch Lord Archioald Archibald . . . Eugene Durham 24