Galion High School - Spy Yearbook (Galion, OH)

Page 9 text:

' 2' WM H i MSE' , '21-J-pm... ' If, f gm - 1 L E B7 DAY Morning sunlight on red brick walls. From all directions students converge upon the focal point of their day's activ- ity, Galion High School. They congre- gate on the steps and talk. They whistle at other students. On winter days they may throw a forbidden snowball. In the balm of early spring they do such juve- nile things as play with yo-yos or blow brightly colored bubbles. These are the sights of our school by day. A bell rings authoritatively and they rush into the building as if they were wildly eager for knowledge. The steady hum of many voices, the lilt of laughter, the clang of locker doors being slammed, the jubilant Hi to welcome a fellow student, the polite Good Morning as a faculty member passes. These are the sounds of our school by day. The quiet bell. Where's the quiet? The tardy bell. Where's McManes? The morning announcements. Classes. How long until lunch time? The rush for food. Back again. Intramural games. Romance in the halls. Activity period. Club meet- ings, committee meetings. Who'll take my home room, Mr. Pickering? Classes. How long until four o'clock? The welcome bell. Football practice, play practice, bas- ketball practice, make-up work. I can't stay for detention. I have to work. A coke, a milkshake. See you tonightf' This is what little Ish found by day. Bewildered he was as he hung up his head piece of feathers and put the picture of his favorite pin-up girl on his locker door. Sixteen nights, Ish. Read that bul- letin! Donit mind the mouse. What would a locker be without a pet? Get your schedule card, fella! Every day is a busy day in G. H. S.

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llfflf l.S'fl As the theme of the 1946 edition of the Galion High School Spy, we present one hundred per cent, all American, Ishlcebibbly Wattendottl, son of Big Chief of the SSSSSSSS tribe. Galion students give a cheer in his tribal tongue every time they go to a game. This has interest- ed Ish's people so much that they have sent him as a spy to our school to snoop at all events and return with a detailed report of the peculiar doings of a mod- ern institution of learning. A glance at annuals of bygone years will show that the Indian as a theme has 'rxff - -if A 'REQ I been used a number 4 '- Z fn - Q --qi.ns.s... of times. These Indians were all noble ancestors of Ish's. But it's been a long time since t h e y i v e looked into affairs around G. H. S. So, the little fel- low pulled on his feathers, gathered up his Wampum belt an d toma- hawlc, pulled on a new pair of moccasins and came as our little visitor. What he found will make interesting stories told around a campfire amid the tall pines of his native country. What he saw will make interesting stories for all of us to tell our children and grandchild- ren in those hazy days on calendars not yet printed. .WF This then is little Ish's work. This Spy is the report he will take back to the SSSSSSSS tribe to tell them of the achievements and of the antics of an Ohio tribe sometimes called the Galion- ites, sometimes called the Orangemen, sometimes called the Tigers. He will curdle their blood with tales of warriors who play under flaming lights before mobs who utter yells more blood curdling than any Indian war whoops ever heard. He will tell them of teachers constantly on the war path imposing sentences on defenseless students more terrible than any tortures devised by the redskins. He will demonstrate strange dancing called jitterbugging, more fatiguing than any dances done by his people to cele- brate a great victory. He will give ac- counts of peculiar rituals in a variety of organizations. He will try to describe musical instruments widely different from the tom-toms of his race. He will try to explain the queer language of the young Galion High School crowd and find it untranslatable. As a climax he will show the pictures of the beautiful young pale faced maid- ens and the dusky Indian beauties will writhe in jealousy. And finally he will impress upon the youngsters of the tribe the vast learning of these Galion students. He will awe them with tales of the rigors of studying far into the night, of reading huge volumes, of writing long papers. So, review the year with Ish as we show him in his native garb as he spies on G. H. S.

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MORNlN6 MUDDLE Alarm clocks jangle in hundreds of Galion homes. Sleepy protests are of no avail. Yawns, sighs, the stretching of aching muscles-another day begins for the G. H. S. gang. Breakfast. For our slim co-eds that means a glass of orange juice, preferably sipped, as Veda Dysing- er demonstrates, during the ritual of the morning hair-do. For our huskies, not so slim, a man-size meal. Make it pan- cakes, toast, rolls, and fruit. From every direction they stream to- ward the mecca of knowledge. The school bus arrives, groups gather on the steps, a janitor raises the Hag. A bell rings loudly and the crowd jostles its way into the building. G. H. S. is open for busi- ness again. The quiet bell-wrongly named, we assure all the uninformed. Romantically inclined couples linger until irate home- room teachers shoo them along. The tardy bell- Good morning. The an- nouncements this morning-. A speech student is on the air to tell of the events of the day ahead. Lorrine Decker is the lady of the microphone and Juanita Da- vis is evidently contemplating a commer- cial about the youth center. Another bell-classes begin. But in one home in the city a sleepy head is just emerging into consciousness. The hands of the clock are at 8:53 and Joe Mc- Manes, champion late riser, begins to think seriously that maybe he'll get up and go about the business of getting him- self some learning. The remains of last night's lunch are by his side, the literary masterpiece which kept him reading late is in plain view. Get going, Joe. Time's a wasting! Sewing class. Learn to sew a straight seam, girls. You are the future of Amer- ica. Some day you'll be copying the latest Vogue creations. World History-and map study. Miss Tracht is asking Osborne some tricky questions, but she can't stump that chap. Van Meter with the intensity of a budding young scientist performs an ex- periment in the chemistry lab. Dozens of classes are busily at work- English, Latin, Spanish, mathematics, biology, physical education-the educa- tional machine is at work on its victims. Well, no-slight error-one victim hasn't yet reported for action. Campus deserted, silence over all and McManes arrives. Don't worry, Joe, it's detention anyway so why waste precious energy. The morning hours pass-swiftly at Hrst and then slacken as lunch time ar- rives. A first aid class learns to revive those who can't stand the gaff. Decker and Harter are working on two nameless heroes. Eleven forty-just five minutes. Books close softly, like runners getting set on their marks, students slide sly feet into the aisle, poise their bodies for the spring, one eye one the clock, one eye on the door. Then the great stampede as the hungry mob dashes for chow. The morn- ing is over.