Goshen Central High School - Yearbook (Goshen, NY)

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T II E PI 0 N E E R 7 THE CLASS PROPHECY My Diary In France in 1917 July 20—The Magnolia arrived safe at Plymouth on the 15th. Reached here, Lille, this morning. Germans had retreated a few days ago. Houses and buildings in ruins. Hundreds of homeless people, crowded at the station, to receive the provisions from America. Kept busy all day distributing food and clothing. July 30—At field hospital. First initiated into present-day warfare. Bombs are flying overhead and the noise is deafening. There are men .... At this point a bomb exploded near me and from the gas, which it gave forth, 1 was knocked “sinsible,” as the Irishman says, and remained so for ten years. Evidently they sent me home, because this morning I woke up in my room as of old, and went out to take a walk. Everything was about the same except that the houses looked a little rusty and a new man seemed to be running the steam roller and overseeing the gang of workmen on South Street. As I came near, I saw another man standing by the engine, and the two seemed engaged in a hot discussion. What in the world can be the matter, I thought. If I didn’t know that Philip was at Stephens, I should say that was his voice. I’ll walk up and investigate. When I came up to them I recognized Philip Wilcox and Harold Knapp. “Where in the world—” I began, but stopped, for both had turned as white as could be and acted much as I imagine Macbeth did when he saw Banquo’s ghost. “Why, I thought you were still asleep,” one of them managed to say. “Oh no!” I replied, “I have made up now all the sleep I lost in my serior year, studying the ‘Aeneid’ and ‘Die Journal-istin.’ But tell me, how long have you two been tearing up this street!” “Oh, about five yeai-s,” Harold said. As soon as I get it laid out one way, Phil rolls it wrong and has the cement put in so badly it all has to be fixed again.” “Not a word of that it true,” Philip hotly replied. “Harold’s plans, that I am obliged to follow, are so poor that as soon as I get the street rolled, the village trustees are disgusted and make him do it over.” Each one looked as if he wanted to knock the other over, so I left them quarreling, and I suppose they are at it still. I then went on toward the center of town, and soon there came toward me the queerest-looking car that ever war, in comparison with the others on the road. It looked somewhat like a Ford, but rather the worse for wear. Suddenly I recognized Elsie Rutan running it (for it was their same car), and I hailed her. She was gorgeously attired in yellow and white, making her way to a meeting she was to address, as she was running for Governor on the suffrage ticket. She stopped, and was very much surprised to see me. After talking a little while, I asked, “But what is the latest news about the Kaiser?” “Why, haven’t you heard?” she said. He was poisoned about three years ago by

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6 THE PIONEER Harold Jackson, the illustrious president of our class, is passing the 12th year of his life in the Goshen Schools. His school life has been throughout very successful and enjoyable. It is hoped his future will be the same. Natalie Scott, our secretary, entered the first grade of the Goshen Public School at the age of seven. She -has passed successfully each year, until she is now a member of the Class of ’17. Elsie Hutan. who is now completing her eleventh year in the public school, has contributed largely toward the social life in the school. Her pleasant smile has caused her to be popular and attractive throughout her entire high school course. Harold Knapp, our talented editor, began school in the first grade of the public school, 12 years ago, and in that time, has blazed his way through the Grammar and High Schools to his goal. Philip Wilcox entered the Goshen schools in the eighth grade and has taken an active part in all high school affairs, especially those pertaining to the student body. This year he has been business manager of the Pioneer, manager of the track team, and a member of the tennis team. Our treasurer, Eleanor Pise, has been a very valuable member of our class. She has spent the last three years in Goshen High, coming here from Atlanta. All through the three years here, she has been a delight to her teachers, as well as a joy to her classmates. until now she holds the coveted place of valedictorian.

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8 TIIK PIONEER Natalie Scott, after she had got her degree in Chemistry. Now she is in the drug store down town, making a specialty of chloroforming cats and dogs.” “Goodness!” I exclaimed, “what hasn’t happened in these ten veal’s! But tell me, what has happened to the rest of the class; I just saw Philip and Harold.” “That large mansion over there, where the stock farm used to be, is Harold Jackson’s. He invented a new way of destroying submarines, and the government gave him a commission so large he retired from business. But once the thing went wrong and one of the sailors was badly injured. Flora Howell was the only nurse: that could bring him to. She did it by using some of Natalie’s new concoctions of catnip tea.” “Well, good luck to you, Elsie; I hope you are elected,” I said in leaving her. “Thank you ever so much,” she said. But what are you going to do with yourself now?” “Ah, I don’t know yet. Wait until I am thoroughly awake, then I’ll try to decide. ' —E. M. P., ’17. CLASS WILL We, the Class of 1917 of the Goshen High School, being of sound and disposing mind and memory, do hereby declare this our last will and testament. To Katherine Egbertson, the honored President, we leave some old bread-crusts to make her hair curl. To Marie Hoffman, the advice not to use so much powder in these dangerous times. To Fern Potter, the privilege to ride in Van Vliet’s Ford on six days of the week, and in their Paige on Sundays. To Gladys Seely, the advice not to giggle at every noise she hears near her. It is said, here, in school, that Esther White is violating the eight-hour law in regard to study. She had better look out, as the G. H. S. is a strict union. She—Why is a wedding so much like a circus? He—Because the woman always keeps an eye on the ring. To Ethel Seely, the privilege of being the bright star in all her classes next year. To Dorothy Collier, a seat in the Senior row, and the privilege of keeping it all the year. Last, but not least, to the one boy in the Class, Kobeit Tuthill, we leave the sole care of the girls of the Junior Class. To the Faculty, we leave the remem-brance of the worst class they have had in High School, and the privilege of giving a big sigh of relief, after we are gone. In witness whereof, we hereby, this 12th day of June, affix our sign and seal. CLASS OF ’17—E. C. R. John—What’s the name of your dog? G eo rge—G i nger. John—Does Ginger bite? George—No, Ginger snaps. Miss Mould (in chemistry)—“Now here comes something quite peculiar. Just then Phil Wilcox came in late for chemistry.