Fairview High School - Challenge Yearbook (Fairview, PA)

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Page Twelve THE CHALLENGE May, 1936 'SENIOR CLASS WILL We. the members of the Class of 1936, being in a super-eminent state of mentality and the proud possessors of such fine qualities as per- severance and high ambition, before leaving this beloved school with all those so dear to us, do, with all humorous intentions, draw up this document as our last will and testament. Because of extreme necessity, and in the light of the passing fantasies which will fade as we leave these dear portals, we wish to make this document public. Article I-To our Alma Mater we leave our beautiful pennant, symbolic of a desire for higher goals of achievement. Article II-To the Juniors we leave the hope that they may have a prosperous senior year and one as significant as ours. We also leave them the spirit of enthusiasm C75 present in all our classes and comfortable seats to sleep in P. O. D. The Senior girls leave the Junior girls their ability to talk in Senior home room and get away with it. Aritcle III-To the Sophomores we leave that sense of dignity necessary for business trans- actions in their pre-graduation days. To them we also leave a spirit of enjoyment to the nth degree of all school fun and recreation, and that spirit of generosity in which we find them lacking. Article IV-To the Freshmen we leave our exceptionally pleasant manner and mien, and the hope that they will not be stricken with a shortage of the male sex as We were. Article V-The following are personal be- quests of the class members: Virginia Anderson leaves her daring exploits to I. Edwards and her art of making-up to Grandma Hartley. Bob Barron leaves his way with the women to Jack Holland, and his dancing ability to be distributed among the needy members of the Junior Class. Betty Getz leaves her brains to anyone who's dumb enough to take them. Evelyn Getz leaves her dieting to Agnes Rettger, and her typing ability to Mr. Hauck. Harold Goodenow leaves his accounting abil- ity to Ernie Leopold. Edna Leffler leaves her quietness to Wilma Furber and her marks to Bud Weislogel. fYou'lll need them, Bud.l Betha Lewis leaves her piano playing ability to Doris Pieper and her walk to H. Carlson. Esther Light leaves her sweet smile to Mar- garet Essick. Erma Locke bestows her snappy comebacks on Katherine Ruhl and her limberness on Helen Hartley. Hon McCray leaves her ability as an all round basket ball player to Gladys Baur and her dancing ability to Owen Grubbs. Irma Muller leaves her curls to Elsie Gus- tafson and her car to the fast-moving W.P.A. workers. Charles Rood leaves his ability to get along with Miss King to David Schwartz, his argu- ing with the teachers to Junior Place: and his laugh to John Bardsley. John Ropach leaves his quiet way to Gladys Walter and his modesty to Peachey Dushole. Alice Sisson leaves her ability as a conversa- tionalist to Katherine Ruhl. Harriet Swalley leaves her ski pants to Mar- abelle Barron. LeRoy von Treptow leaves a dent in the orchestra, because he furnished all the windg and leaves the length of his name to Max East. Ellinor Weislogel leaves her tired disposition in P. O. D. class to be divided among the Sen- iors of 1937 fjust in casel. Catherine Williamson leaves her ability to blow up the Lab to the next Chem class and her red hair to Jack Holland. Kenneth Young leaves his neat waves to Mr. Moore and Alton Skelley, and sadly parts with Charles Rood. SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY As a reporter on the New York Sun, I've met a great many people and enjoyed it all tremendously. But during this past week, I've had more than my share of pleasant surprises in that I'Ve seen or heard about all of my old classmates from Fairview High School. The unexpectedness of these meetings made them all the more enjoyable. Last Thursday evening was the opening night of a much-advertised musical comedy, and I was assigned to get an interview from the star, Virginia Gable fMrs. Clark Gable, Jr.l Rather calmly and indifferently, I rapped on the door of her dressing room. A trim maid let me in: and after I had stated my business I was told to wait just a few minutes. Finally, I was shown into another room, and there, amid a sea of flowers of every hue, I saw Vir- ginia Anderson! We chatted a while of this and that, and Virginia told me that she had had dinner just the week before with Esther Light who is married to a Hollywood motion picture producer. It was nearly time for her to go on, and so I wished her luck and depart- ed. Incidentally, the papers the next morning gave very complimentary reviews of the show, and from all indications it will have a long run on Broadway. But to get back to my story. Just as I closed the door of her room, I saw a man running towards me pell mell. All at once, he t1'ipped and fell. I went over to help him to his feet, only to discover that it was Leroy von Treptow. Virginia had mentioned talking with him, but she had forgotten to tell me that he was the director of the orchestra for this particular show, and I had to learn that important fact while he was brushing back his hair and regaining his poise. Although it was almost time to start, he couldn't find his batong and that had been the reason for his

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May, 1936 THE CHALLENGE Page Thirteen mad rush. I left the theatre feeling that this had been one of the most enjoyable assignments I had ever had. When I got back to the office, I learned that I was to meet the Transatlantic plane which carried a very prominent explorer. Our Eng- lish office had telephoned about his departure and his importance, but the connection hadn't been very good, and so they weren't quite sure of the name. I arrived at the airport just as the plane made a perfect three-point landing. There was a great crowd for me to push through, but the lights made the field .as bright as day. A very shy and timid-looking man seemed to be the center of attention, and I knew he must be the explorer because he had a lion cub with him on a leash. As he ap- proached amid cheers, I recognized none other than Harold Goodenowl We talked over old friends before I tried to get the facts neces- sar for my interview, and he told me that he had seen Ellinor Weislogel, now the wife of the Secretary of the Navy, in Northern Africa. She and her husband were just setting out on a big game hunting expedition when he saw them. As he left, Harold advised me to go back and inspect the plane. I took his advice, though I didn't quite know the reason for it until I saw the pilot. I wasn't sure of her identity at first, but after she had spoken a few words, I was positive. The pilot was Eve- lyn Getz. We went into the airport restaurant, and over a barbecue sandwich she told me that Erma Locke was doing very well as an air stewardess on this same line. She had heard that Irma Muller was still a nurse at St. Vin- cent's hospital in Erie. And we found that we were both devoted listeners to the Young and Rood Radio hour which has taken the once famous Jack Benny's place on the air. She hadn't known that Charlie wrote their script which is full of dirty cracks between Kenny and himself though they are still as good pals as they were in high school. Evelyn said she had just been transferred to the New York- London plane, and so we promised to see each other often. Life went on with the usual mad rush so typical of New York, and more than two weeks passed before I saw another member of the class of 1936. We went to a reception at the Waldorf, but were so late that the receiving line had dispersed before we arrived, and since these big affairs are very confusing, I hadn't even bothered to find out who the guest of honor was. We were dancing to the music of an extra good orchestra when a man cut in with a very assured air. I looked at him in- tently after we had danced a few steps, and then suddenly recognized Bob Barron. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered that he is now a botanist who is working on a new fruit-a combination of apple and pear which the Japanese started. He promised to send me a basket of his latest crop, and then asked me whether I had seen John yet. John who? I countered blankly. Why John Ropach, of course. Didn't you meet him in the receiving line? I explained my ignorance on the ground of my late arrival, and then Bob told me that John was the new ambassador to France for whom the reception was being given! We stopped dancing immedi- ately, and finally found him, looking very smooth in his white tie and tails with a mon- ocle in his eye. We talked a bit, and John told us how he had advanced from his work as government interpreter through the various posts in the foreign diplomatic service. He still seemed a bit breathless over his new posi- tion, but remembered to tell me that he had heard Betha Lewis, the concert pianist, in a very successful performance in London. The very next afte1'noon, I went to tea with the dramatic critic who assured me that he had discovered a popular new place on Riverside Drive. The tea room was so very popular that there weren't any vacant tables, but Lynn as- sured me that he knew the owner, and asked to see her. A pretty waitress led the way to an inner office, and there sat Catherine Will- iamson! Lynn had to take a back seat, because I knew the owner even better than he did. Catherine admitted being married, but she and her husband had just moved to New York and she thought that the tea room would occupy her time until they got better acquainted with New York people. Katty had lots of news about old friends. Alice Sisson and her hus- band had just moved to Boston, Harriet Swal- ley was social secretary to a wealthy woman whose name appears in the Social Register, and Betty Getz was a Math teacher in a Long Island high school. We immediately made plans to go to the Notre Dame-Cornell football game together the following Saturday after- noon, and when I found that Katty had a red- haired young son on the Cornell team, I was rooting for Cornell The game that week end was certainly thrilling. 14-14 in the last quar- ter, and then a Cornell man plunged through the line and tore down the field with the two teams right behind him. The people in the stands went wild, and as the fellow went over the line, I received a terrific and unelxpected squeeze. The source of the squeeze was a per- son whom I had rather expected to be on the Cornell side of the field-Edna Leffler. She had been a Math teacher there, and Katty had told me that she was the new Dean of Women. Edna brought me news of the last member of our class, Charlotte McCray. We did a lot of reminiscing, and although it was only Novem- ber, Edna and Hon had their plans all made for the Olympics for the following summer. Hon was coaching for them already, of course. We came to the obvious conclusion that the mem- bers of our class had all been most successful, though I don't believe we could have prophesied their future way back in the year 1936.