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

Page 11 text:

Standing, left to right: Bruce Carrithers, Mrs. Robert Fickiin, Charles Whately, Bennie Lorch, James Harris, Nila Knott, Harold Hish. Lyle Weasels, Jim Wharton, Keith Stiver. Wayne Davis. Standing, left to right: Barbara Saathoflf, Willardl Walter, Marcella Kipcr, Margaret Marshall. Dean Moser, Mary Ellen Mehrings. Standing, left to right: Joe Yeaglo. Thelma Moser, Harley Wagenseller, Lyman Feldman, Florence Zimmerman. Harvey Traub. Alvin Shulman. Shirley Waters. Sitting, left to right: Barbara Somers. Lucille Monroe, Mary Ann Uathbun. Lois Bess, Shirley Moser. Barbara Weeks. 7

Page 10 text:

Editor.............................................Mary Ann Rathbun Assistant Editor..................................Lucille Monroe Artists......................................Jim Wharton, Nila Knott Typists . . Lois Bess, Florence Zimmerman, Mary Ellen Mehrings Advertising and Circulation..................................... . . . Alvin Shulman, Joe Yeagle, Keith Stiver, Lyman Feldman Calendar..........................Margaret Marshall, Barbara Weeks Humor......................Willard Walter, Dean Moser, Jim Harris Snapshots . . Shirley Waters, Wayne Davis, Harley Wagenseller Senior Class Editor...............................Lyle Wessels Athletics..............................Charles Whately, Shirley Moser Music.............................................Bruce Carrithers Dramatics.........................................Barbara Saathoff Student Council .... Marcella Kiper Hi Life.......................................................Harvey Traub Latin and Spanish Clubs..........................Bruce Carrithers F. H. A...........................................Thelma Moser F. F. A...........................................Bennie Torch F. Club...........................................Harold Hish Will....................................Harvey Traub, Lyman Feldman Prophecy...........................Barbara Somers, Kenneth Broquard Adviser............................................Mrs. Robert Ficklin Business Manager............................. 6 Mr. M. F. Fullmer

Page 12 text:

 lent an Ole) ( late THE BEST YEARS Four years of my life Your dear halls now hold; Tales of nardship and strife That can never be told. And of all those moments, None are so dear. As those I spent backstage My junior year. Of lessons and learning, The lovers of study; Of all my dear friends, And especially my buddy. We climbed the steep ladder With classmates and friend; And four years of plodding Finally came to an end. So great was our joy To be leaving at last, We forgot all the memories Of so lovely a past. We set out to conquer, In the good years to corne, Our world and our problems, As they confront us each one. But with shortness of battle And weariness of love. We return to that dwelling That was always our home. Then, dear Alma Mater, We remark, “How time flew,” As we realize the “best years” Were those spent with you. MOM Your Mom is the best friend you’ve ever had. And not to realize it is just too bad. She started you into the very first grade; Your very first party dress she made. She helped you through your grade school days, Made school work clear that was misty haze. That problem you couldn’t understand Was easy when she gave you a hand. Your High School days were here at last, After graduation day was past. Your Mom was proud of the honor you made, As you were the one with the highest grade. You’re ir high school now, and you’ve got your first date. “Please press my clothes, Mom, I don’t want to be late.” She had your clean shirt and your pants pressed, too, My! you were good looking; she was proud of you. She didn’t mind that to her meeting she was late 'Cause she had to get you off on your very first date. There was many a time that she gave up her fun So that you and I could have it, her daughter and her son. Gosh! how fast the years did pass, As you proceeded from class to class. And always your mother saw you through, No matter how you would feel or what you would do. All at once you’re a senior; all at once Mom is gone; Now you find out all she did and how she worked so long. School doesn’t seem the same with Mom not here, And to think that you and I will graduate this year! Think now, seniors, since you were small. You’ve not told Mom that you loved her at all. Share with your mother before it’s too late All the fun that you have had on your special dates. Tell her you love her so very much, And thank her for her wonderful touch. ’Cause Mom is the best friend you ever had, And not to know it till too late, is worse than bad. —Harold Hish —Lois Bess PEACE War? Sir, I tell you there can be no war! The grass has not yet covered the graves from the past. The mother’s torn heart has not healed. Blood is still dripping from the battle sword, And still you speak of war? Can’t you hear the whining voice of cold and hungry babes? These are our children who have never known The feel of new shoes, warmth or laughter. Have pity on them, Sir. Let them believe there is a God. Look into the eyes of man. They are blank and empty from seeing too much, There is no hate, just need for love. Sir, I beg you, give them hope, Forget the war! 8 —By Mary Ann Rathbun.