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

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I, Lois Bess, leave my dislike of school and my ability to go out every night and get up every morning to Bonnie Woodward. I, Bruce Carrithers, leave my argumentative abilities, my graceful approaches, and my great athletic abilities to Cleo Bunting and Donald Johansen, hoping they will share them equally. I, Wayne Davis, leave my charms with the women (Cropsey women) to that Casa- nova of the junior class, Clinton Harris, and that handsome redhead, Donald Dunlap. I, Lyman Feldman, leave my tall “model” blonde to that roving rogue of the junior class, Ray Zimmer. I, Jim Harris, leave my fancy ways and well-groomed appearance to the Tyrone Power of the junior class, Ronald Woodall. I, Harold Hish, leave my trouble with the women and my football skills to Richard Steidinger. I, Marcella Riper, leave my custody of that new black Chrysler to Shirley Winter-v land. If she doesn’t need it maybe Jean Haid could use it. I. Nila Knott, leave my skills of baton twirling to that senorita of t'he junior class, Marie Giancarli. I, Bennie Lorch, leave my bashful way and my hard head, gained by playing center in football, to the orator of the junior class, Kenneth Broquard. I, Margaret Marshall, bestow my leadership ability and my funny little cackle to Barbara Somers and Phyllis Thompson. I, Mary Ellen Mehrings, leave my forward atmosphere and my arum major’s capo and baton to Ruth Miller. I, Dean Moser, leave my secluded parking spots and my hunting experience to Dallas Wessels and Charles Brewer. I, Shirley Moser, bestow my cheerleading ability and my bristlirg” personality to Carolyn Shult and Shirley Wagenseller. I, Thelma Moser, leave my shyness and my great ability as a chemist to Peggy Hoffman and Marilyn Peters. I Mary Ann Rathbun, leave my changed attitude toward) men to Diane DeMoss. I, Barbara Saathoff, leave my “Rock of Gibraltar” to Evelyn Bess. I, Alvin Shulman. bestow my historical knowledge and relationship with General George to Joan Kelson. I, Keith Stiver, leave my co-ed sweetheart and my poor resistance to those females, to Paul Whately and Robert Perkins. I, Harvey Traub, leave my love for sophomore girls and my experiences in Forrest to Dean Gerdes. If I lose the “Week” spot in my life, Chester Travis can have it. I, Harley Wagenseller, leave my great agricultural wisdom to Albert Tavener and Billy Snider. I, Willard Walter, bestow my bubble dancers and the interesting decorations on the interior of my car to Charles Farley and Jerry Headley. I, Shirley Waters, leave my dreaming attitude” to June Leetch and Shirley Nance. I, Barbara Weeks, leave my “slick chick” appearance to Lucille Monroe. I, Lyle Wessels, leave my charming orational ability to Sylvester Fosdick. I, Jim Wharton, bestow my “zoot suit” appearance and my most happy relationship with women to Fred Wing and Robert Zimmerman. I, Charles Whately, leave my careful driving of “the Whately Express” to the speed demons ol the junior class, Gene Spence and Harold Schroeder. I, Joe Yeagle, leave my faithfulness and great height to that peewee of the junior class, Elmer Aupperle. I, Florence Zimmerman, leave my straightforwardness and my outspoken attitude to Lauretta Nash and Arlene Zehr. 21

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were Hktd j In the fall of ’36, we began our quest for education. In ’44 we ready to enter good old F. T. H. S. Forty-four green freshmen went through the tortures of that first year. For our class officers we elected Margaret Marshall, president; Joe Yeagle, vice-president; and Barbara Weeks, secretary-treasurer. We selected Shirley Moser to lead our cheers; she has held this position all four years. Members of our class were in every activity and also the field of sports. Our second year found Jim Wharton at the helm. Barbara Weeks, vice-president; Mary Ann Rathbun, secretary; and Keith Stiver, treas- urer, assisted him. This year again found us active in other activities, including the F Club. As juniors we elected Joe Yeagle, president; Shirley Moser, vice- president; and Barbara Weeks, secretary-treasurer. During this year we added several more to the F Club. Before a sell-out crowd we demon- strated our dramatic ability with the production of “January Thaw” under the direction of Miss Marjorie Kemple. We brought “The Circus” to town at our Junior-Senior Banquet. Now to take up the roles of dig- nified seniors! As the senior class of '48 we were twenty-eight in number, and what we lacked in quantity we made up in quality. Margaret Marshall was president of the Student Council. By popular vote, Marcella Kiper was elected Homecoming Queen. Barbara Weeks, Mary Ann Rathbun, Lois Bess, and Shirley Moser served as attendants. We produced jur Crier under the leadership of Mary Ann Rathbun as editor-in-chief, and Mrs. Robert Ficklin as adviser. It is now our turn to leave the halls of F. T. H. S. and go out into the world to make our fortunes. We hope that the classes which follow us will cherish it as we have. 20

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Ao Time: 2048. Place: Sunken Park, Fairbury, Illinois. Event: A fresh rope is being placed on the gallows by a group of work- men. As we look closer, we see two figures pushing baby buggies down the walk in opposite directions. They meet, turn to look at the grotesque structure together, and then speak. Barbara Saathoff: You know, it’s been a long time since we had a hang- ing in this town. Nearly two hundred years now. Shirley Waters: It just doesn't seem right that since poor “Chuck never had a decent car when they were available, that they should string him up for horse stealing. Barbara: Yes, but that’s a mighty serious offense now since that’s the only way we have left for getting around in this world. What with the gasoline and all the other products giving out, it sure is putting a lot of people out of business. Shirley: Dean finally had to close his station, and he’s about out of his head worrying about that little blonde wife and those six kids of his. Barbara: Still, I hate to see “Chuck” go. I never went to the trial, but I heard that Lyman defended him. He’s a good lawyer, but he never had a chance against Bruce. I never did see how Bruce got to be county judge. Because he’s a Republican, I guess. Shirley: You know, “Chuck’s” going to be the first one of our graduating class to cross the great divide. Bruce ought to be ashamed of him- self. It’s like sending your own flesh and blood to the grave. Barbara: That isn’t the first time he’s pulled a trick like that either. He sent Harvey to the jug for habitual drunkenness, and you might know Harv can’t help himself running the Red Dog like he does. Shirley: His1 wife, Barbara, used to keep him on the straight and narrow but she finally gave up and left him to his “wine, women, and song,” and ran off with Harold. Harold’s posing for clothing ads now. Barbara: They really have some hot numbers at the Red Dog. Marcella danced in the chorus there for a while, but I heard Keith breezed into town and they decided to call it love. They’ve moved to Alaska so he won’t be tempted anymore. Shirley: Say, I hear a new floor show is opening up over there. And if gossip's true, Joe and Shirley are the stars. It’s been a long time since they’ve really been together. You know she was bare-back rider and he was a professional football player for quite a spell there. Since they’re married they’ve been working in a tumbling show. With all that muscle on both sides, I’d hate to see their family fights. Barbara: I wonder if there’ll be a very big crowd here at sundown. I heard that Wayne (he’s the new sheriff, you know—is gonna risk trouble in Cropsey long enough to come over and pull the trap door. Shirley: I know what you mean by trouble. Sometimes I wonder myself if matrimony isn’t a word, but a sentence! Barbara: That Cropsey country must be quite a place. It’s claimed Lois and Wayne and almost got Harold. Shirley: By the way, is Lois making a good farm wife? Barbara: Never saw better! When she first moved there she thought cackleberries were picked off bushes and a yoke was found only in an egg. But time changes everyone. 22