Greensboro High School - Bulldog Yearbook (Greensboro, FL)

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SENIOR CLASS HISTORY ( continued) Mrs. Tommy Green was our teacher in the sixth grade. Our books were harder and larger than before, but with such a swell teacher we passed to the seventh grade with flying colors. We had our Easter picnic at Fletcher pasture again this year. In the seventh grade our teacher was Mrs. Carl Smith. We were Joined this year by Mary B Smith. We thought we were the stuff since we were in Junior high school. Our home room teacher in the eighth grade was Mr. C. A. Harrison. We had loads of fun this year, changing classes and acting as if we were grownups. Celia and Elizabeth kept us entertained In the home room periods. They ran a contest to see which one could make the most trips to get a drink of water. Betty Jean Cross Joined us this year. Mrs. Brooksie Godwin was our home room teacher in the ninth grade. Our teachers seemed to think we were a little too noisy this year, and since we were inclined to disagree with then we often wondered why we were presented so frequently with passes to detention hall. Mrs. C.L. Fowler was our Sophomore sponsor. This year we had our first swimming party at Lake Mystic and luckily none of us was drowned. Next year we were Juniors, and the class was sponsored by Miss Margaret Johnson, who loved fun but not quite as much as we did. Our Junior play, THE CAMPBELLS ARE COMING, was a humdinger. We entertained the Seniors at Long Beach, in Panama City, and we actually didn't get sun-burned that year. The most exciting day was that long-waited-for day in April when our class rings came. Of course they are the prettiest ones that were ever made. Juanelle vaughn, from Orlando, Joined us this year. Then came that glorious day when we became Seniors, Ifergie Cteson Joined our happy class. All The privileges were taken away from Seniors this year, but who cared? We didn't want to be dignified anyway. Our Senior play was THE MINX FROM MISSOURI, and it really went over with a bang. Mr. E. Forrest May was our sponsor that year. Now we can safely say that we enjoyed our twelve years at Greensboro High School, and the memories of these past years will always be dear to our hearts. SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY I am a ghost. I was killed by the noise made by the class of ,lf9« Back in that year I was a healthy, normal human being. I worked and played and loved and worshipped. I enjoyed shooting firecrackers on holidays and waking to the noisy roar of trains at midnight; and I liked the quiet seclusion of a country walk and the serene dignity of an empty church. I was at home in the noise and bustle of a crowded street or in the pages of a good book by the fireside on a winter's night. I even liked to study—a little. I didn't make A's, but I had a good C-plus average, and I could shoot as many goals as any boy on the B-Team. I was normal and healthy and haPPYi and life seemed to stretch out before me in endless vistas of high promise. Then I heard the Seniors, I was walking down the hall one day, and my girl had Just told me that she loved me, and it was good to be alive. Then—I heard them. It was an awful scream or mixed emotions and seemed to come from many voices, all blended discordantly into one mighty screech. 13

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CLASS WILL We, the Senior Class of 19 9, being the noisiest of classes do hereby make our last will and testament. To the whole school we will our friendliness and athletic ability To the Juniors we will our classroom and all the memories which it brings to mind: our desks which are badly abused and seem uncomfortable after the first sitting; and our huge chunks of bubble gum stuck beneath the desks. We have chewed the gum faithfully throughout the year, and we hope you will enjoy the taste that remains. Also, we leave you our books which are tattered and torn; our black-boards which will last forever; and our grand case of laziness which is unparalleled in the history of the school. Finally, we make the following personal bequests: I, Margaret Anne Bateman, will my shortness to Jane Suber. I, Vergie Chason, will my ability to learn history to Bernice Edwards. I, Celia Chason, will my ability to get elected to Edith Cumbie. I, Edna Clark, leave my ability to have a slim figure to Lilia Smith. I, Edsel Clark, will my ability to play a clarinet to Norma Bowen. I, Betty Jean Cross, leave my ability to keep calm to Ellie Mclver. I, Neel Cross, will my superb driving ability to Ellis Hill. I, Joe Cowen, leave my ability to write to Reginald McPherson. I, Elizabeth Dean, will my dumbness to Vergie Ola Eubanks. I, Sally Dykes, leave my sweet disposition to Robert Boyd. I, Lomar Mclver, will my quiet ways to Ida Pearl Alday. I, Bobby Rowan, will my ability to work Algebra to Herman Rowan. I, Mary B Smith, will my ability to make speeches to Gene Faircloth. I, Juanelle Vaughn, leave my silent tongue and generous mind to Sara Flotchsr• I, Donald Ventry, will my ability to make A's to Dan Garner. SENIOR CLASS HISTORY We began our journey after knowledge in the year 1937. The class was quite large, so we were divided into two classes. Mrs. Martha Green and Miss Daniel were the teachers of those two classes. The happenings of the year must have made a great impression on Joe Cowen, for he can't remember one single thing about it. In the second grade Miss Kathleen Strange was very patient with us as she taught us to print. We were sorry when the time came to leave this grade, but we were curious about the other grades. Miss Sara Howard was our teacher in the third grade, where we were joined by Sally Dykes from Quincy. In this grade we started learning our multiplication tables, and even now Edna Clark declares that is why her head aches so often. In the fourth grade we were taught by Mrs. C. A. Harrison. This year there was another addition to our class—Bobby Rowan. Bobby liked to pull Joe's ears, and Joe liked to pull Bobby's ears. They seemed to wonder if ears would come off The next year Mrs. Kenneth Maxwell and Mrs. Annie Muriel Fletcher greeted us in the fifth grade. We were now learning to work with fractions. All of us enjoyed our Easter picnic at Fletcher pasture. 12

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SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY (continued) I was terrified and shaken. I froze in my tracks. My hair stood on end and my eyes popped out of their sockets. Feeling a piercing pain in my right ear, I cupped my hand over it and fainted standing up. That is how Mr. Milam found me. When he saw my eyes hanging below my chin, he thought nothing of it, but when he saw the look of terror in those eyes, he decided that I needed a doctor. He rushed me down to Dr. Gardner. Dr. Gardner put my eyes back in their sockets, but he told me that my right ear drum had been blasted to pieces and that I would never hear out of that ear. He told Mr. Milam to work me out a schedule that would keep me away from the Seniors. Mr. Milam did,and the arrangement worked all right for a time, but now aid then I would get too close to the Senior room and their blaring crescendo would throw me into a state of palsy that would last for an hour. My condition, due wholly to exposure to Senior noise, grew steadily worse, and one day Dr. Gardner looked through a telescope at my torn and tattered nerves and said that it was now a matter of life and death. I chose death, but Mr. Milam tried to save my life by taking me out of high school and putting me down in Mrs. Rowan's room. My condition was improving, but one day I found it necessary to go to the typing room. Since the typing room was a good hundred yards from the Senior room, I thought I might get in and out without harm. I went all the way around on the north side of the gym and came to the back door. My hand trembled as I clutched for the knob. Could I make it? I opened the door slightly. All was quiet. I stepped inside. And then it came. It was louder than all the noises ever made rolled into one. It broke the seismograph in Miami, Florida. I was demolished so thoroughly that they never found a hair or my head. So now you know how I became a ghost. Shepard's Mill is my familiar haunt, but I spend most of my time scaring the daylights out of the members of the Class of ' +9. It was I who put it into their heads to have a reunion at Shepard's Mill. If I could get them all to-gether on my own ground, I might be able to decide upon a method of revenge, and I wanted revenge more than anything I ever wanted in my natural life. They came in 1959. Donald Ventry, owner of Duck's Amusement Center, arrived early in a new '60 Studebaker and went fishing, but he made so much noise that he scared the fish away. As the other Noise-Makers began to gather at the picturesque old mill, Edsel Clark's famous orchestra played Down By the Old Mill Stream. Then Betty Jean Cross, accompanied by Charlie Adams and his Tobacco Tabs and heard every Saturday night over WCNH, sang Jealous Heart. I have put it into Edsel's head to ask Betty Jean to marry him, so she will be singing in his orchestra in the near future. I expect some knock-downs and drag-outs in that marriage and a divorce within three months. I am going to get a kick out of seeing Betty Jean's temper clash with Edsel's iron will. While Betty Jean sang, Vergie Chason strolled along the waterfront and stroked her white Persian kitten, which she held in her arms. The third finger of her left hand was still empty, but she had a gleam in her eyes and seemed to be expecting her ship to come down the creek at any minute. I have a soft spot in my heart for Vergie and have great plans for her. She contributed very little to the noise that killed me. I turned from Vergie to see Joe Cowen rounding up his six children. Joe is the owner of Florida's largest cattle ranch. Mrs. Cowen was unable 14