Hasbrouck Heights High School - Coronian Yearbook (Hasbrouck Heights, NJ)

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N amc CLASS DIRECTORY CONTINUED, Desire Russell Gokey May Greenstein Vivian Ham Howard Hettger Julia Kelemen .Carl Laluniia Henrietta List Tessie Magocsy Ethel Nicholas Marion Rafi Russell Rliinesniith Theodore Ruckert Mary Steegar Miina Stevens Alias Prominent Hobby Trait Goke Dignity Bluffing May Size Music 29 Vivie Goggles Shorthand Schrap Bristles Guns Jackie Quietness Speaking to ET C, J, Protesting Debating Heinie Boisterousness Spanish Tess Sedateness Studying Et Blue eyes Teaching' Marion Bobhed hair Driving a car Rusty Brown Playing banjo Ted Blonde Kidding Mary Llary Hair Staying at Peg's Mimie Quiescent Study periods To he a wireless operator To he a pianist To rival Miss Eckberg To bag a silver fox To be Mrs? To be a lawyer To declaim To be a milliner To be a housewife To go to college To smoke a 31.00 cigar To drive a Packard To put her hair up To tune a Uke

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CLASS DIRECTORY Name Alias Prominent Hobby Desire Trait Virginia Barnes jinny Smiles Dancing To be a private secretary Margaret Beales Peggy Height Making fudge To play basketball Michael Bilas Mishfool Singing Playing ball To hit thorne run William Bridgewater Billy Eyes Making love N0 work Dorothea Calhoun Dot Cnrls Singing T0 be prima donna James Cliastm-y Jimmy Blushing Biology To be an ostcopath Pctcf Cohen Pete Telephoniug Chemistry To be an M. D. Vvanncc Conover Doc joking Lflaflllg To be a chauffeur Rllfh Cvylv Rudie Making eyes NVorrying To he a Spanish teacher 5l1'l7llf'l1 D?U1lf'lS Dibby Ai-gning Dfillillg To dance every night Francis Dominick Dom Women-hater Writing To be an editor Anna Fish Ann Talking to May To shimmy To teach Marinus Galanti Garry Ya-he-e-e To be late To be a jazz artist Y-p...V

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f f E E .LLI Ill! Ll TRUE AMERICANISM The mist rested heavily on that dismal gray morning in May. It was early, the sun had just begun to creep above the horizon, and, piercing the enveloping fog, cast its rays upon a scene, already too familiar in the hearts of many. lt was lfranee, stricken France, in 1919. The sun- beams, stealing thru that curtain of dew and damp, fell upon a man's face. He was lying on the battlefield of Mons, still, silent, his features distorted, his head bloody. As the mist lifted, the form of another man could be seen, silent, still, prostrate. lioth were wounded, near to each other, yet between them lay a gap-one was a Yank: the other a llun: one a private: the other an ofiicer. The sun was high in the heavens when the eyes of the American private opened. l-le looked about, raised himself on one elbow and clutched his throat with his fingers. For twenfv long hours he had been lying there, with a bullet in his right shoulder, another in his knee. Twenty long, dark hours-without food or drink. 'His fingers tore apart his collar-band: he was dying-dying of thirst. Oh! where were those companions of yesterday? XVhy didn't they come to help him? .lust then he heard a sigh, the sigh of a sufferer. He was not the only one who had fallen before that storm of fire. Again he heard that sigh: it came from someone on his left. lie turned his head, and there, scarcely a foot away. lay an officer, in gray. Ah! A Hun, perhaps the one who had wounded him! Making a mighty effort, he raised himself once more. XYhat was that? A Hask-the Hun was grasping a flask. Thru the mind of the khaki-clad lad passed thoughts of a drink, water, and end to his thirst. He leaned over. stretched out his hand and took the bottle from the fingers of his neighbor, and, muttering a short prayer of thanks, raised the bottle to his lips. He was about to drink, when the German awoke and cried for help. A drink, my God. a drink! he pleaded. I am dying: help me. save me. Uh! God, give me water! The Yank paused, he took the fiask from his lips. Here was a man, about to die, the blood streaming from the bullet hole in his head. He asked for help, yet he knew that he couldn't live. And there was the lad in brown: Wounded, yes, but he might live: help would reach him, he felt sure. He raised himself a third time: but how hard it was, his strength was ebbing slowly away! tirasping the flask tightly in his hand, he moved it towards the fainting one's lips. Comrade, he said, drink: this is yours. l-le drank, and when he had finished, stretched out his hand and grasped the other's tenderly. My son, he said. I am going: yet with me I will take the memory of an American friend. l'lTfI1ITTI