Hall High School - Hall Light Yearbook (Spring Valley, IL)

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The next page of this memory book had nothing on it but a big snap shot. Well, no wonder it was big, look at the husky athletes who were in the group. Ann Wolf, Tommy Schatz, “Stonewall” Linker, Mary Riva, Bernice Hicks and Mary Condie—the girls’ class team, champions in their Sophomore year and second best the following years. These two items were all I could gather from this particular book, so I searched for more from another. Here I found a regular “gold mine” of material. One was a program for a school production, “The Merchant of Venice,'” given in our freshman year. On the margin I found scribbled, “Jack O’Malley made a perfect Shylock—I shall never forget the way he sharpened his knife on the sole of his shoe.” Just opposite this program I found pasted another. A program for “The Gypsy Rover.” Again, the owner had indulged in scribbling. “Mike Avon as a butler! He ought to take up that profession seriously.” Evidently the possessor of the book was a lover of dramatic talent, for as I glanced hastily through the remaining pages, I caught fleeting glimpses of “Windmills of Holland,” “May Fete,” “Rag Time Wedding,” “In Love With a Hero,” “Penrod,” and The Concert Company—in all of which, members of our class had had a prominent part. On the program for the Morris Concert I found, “Say, wasn’t that the meanest trick Miss Osmanson and Miss Phelps played on us when they kept the lights on in the bus all the way home ? And t hey sat in the back seat too—who wants to put his arm around his girl with two lively chaperones present?” In another book I found a newspaper clipping, “Bombo Nesti and Capt. “Cope” Swanson starred in the football game at the High School last Saturday afternoon, when Mendota was defeated by the score of 19-9. Capt. Swanson suffered a broken ankle in the third quarter and was forced to retire from the game.” When I read those lines I saw again the set faces of our boys as they went back in the last quarter to win. And win they did. On the same page were a number of clippings having reference to other games. This one was heavily underlined. “La Salle was beaten by Hall Twp. High last Saturday to the time of 17-13.” On L. P.’s own field too! This happened when our team was the dark horse in the I. V. Conference and when we were Sophomores. A figure in oratorical pose next drew my attention. Earl Maki-ney without a doubt. Earl was the only fellow in the class that always had something to say—and said it. Ask this gentleman and Kenny Johnston about their adventure while attending the Older Boys’ Conference at Princeton. Perhaps (?) they’ll consent to tell you. Upon turning another page the caricature of a mascot goat with TWENTY

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CLASS HISTORY (By Henry Decker) I was meandering slowly along through the lower corridor one morning, when suddenly a soft feminine voice fell upon my ear, “Oh Henry, won’t you write in my memory book?” “And mine too?” chorused a crowd of gay young damsels who quickly surrounded me on all sides. Of course I couldn’t refuse the ladies so I obligingly took theiu books and with them ( the books) under my arm, sought a quiet seat in the study hall. Slowly turning the pages, I noted here and there interesting snap-shots, newspaper clippings, references to jokes, programs from school plays, and a host of little notes beginning, “I shall always remember,” or “Can you ever forget?” I was just about to add my promised bit, when suddenly I saw this remark. “Will you ever forget the time when I was really slender?”—and it was signed Ann Wolf! Thinks I, “That must be ancient history”—this with all due apologies to Ann—and then before I realized what had happened, I was back in the land of my Freshman days recalling those good old times of real sport. Suddenly a thought struck me (as they occasionally do)—I remembered Miss Wilson’s parting injunction. She had said, “You are to write up the class history, but try to follow some new and original plan. Above all, don’t begin your account with ‘On the first day of September, forty-five frightened little Freshmen entered the portals of Hall!”’ Here was my chance. Why could I not turn through these memory books and dig up some really interesting bits of history about my fellow class mates? No sooner said than done; from that day on,‘I began studying memory books. I herewith give you the results of my exploration. The first bit of information is in the form of a note. “Dear Madelon: Say, weren’t you peeved when we got sent home this morning for an excuse because we were half an hour late? I don’t care if we were late every morning last week, it’s a shame we had to walk all that way back home. Never mind, we’ll get even some day! Yours, Bernice.” I looked at this note in surprise because I knew these girls were seldom tardy in their senior year, and then I understood. The paper was wrinkled and yellow. Yes, it had been written when these two were mere freshmen—before they knew any better. NINETEEN

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Jerry Hanney’s beaming countenance where its own should have been, glared forth. This recalled the days when “Soup” was the mascot of the class of ’23. However, he finally got tired of that honored position in our hall of fame, and grew himself out of it. It’s an even bet now between Dutchy Maurer and Jerry for the honors of class giant. But how can I give you an adequate idea of all the curious things that I found on these pages? Would you believe it, I even found one page that looked like a display window in a department store, for it had pasted upon it a huge square of pink gingham—well perhaps it was taffeta—I never have been able to tell the difference—and under this was written, “Sacred to the memory of the Junior Prom that wasn’t!” ? And that isn’t all I discovered! On one page was a funny black square just peppered full of little holes. I had to think a long time before I could decide what it was—then suddenly I recalled the day when Bernice Hicks accidentally spilled sulphuric acid on her stockings. No wonder she made such a speed record down to Mrs. Dyer and the rest room! One page caused my own ears to burn—for a few seconds—it had some joking reference to notes which were carelessly lost. But then, I decided they weren’t referring to me, but to two certain Juniors. Seniors, we have had lots of fun during these four years, haven’t we? And as I have read the pages of this history have you recalled scores of incidents which I have not deemed it possible to record? Of course you have. In the language of the memory book which has become mine after all this eager perusal of their pages, “can you ever forget?” I ask it again, “Can you?” The answer comes back in another oft repeated phrase, “The good old days of sport are ours forever.” May I add, “Long live our Township High!” TWENTY-ONE