Hauser Junior Senior High School - Jetstream Yearbook (Hope, IN)

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to the wild sound of bongos, we realized that the Bearded Bongo Beater was our old friend, Larry “Boom-Boom’ Rednour. At his side sat Tom Flora and Virginia Moore, mumbling some way-out poetry. As we turned to leave, a rough-looking character ordered us to sit down. As we shakily obeyed, we discovered he was none other than Giant Jean Sneed, who had recognized us as his old classmates and wanted to chat. He asked us what we were doing now.and since this would have led to embarrassment, we quickly asked him what he was doing. He said he was happily married to Betty Gabriel and shared this thriving business with his cousin, Jeanette Sneed. He further stated that his chief cook and bottle washer was Franklin McClintic, a confirmed bachelor, even though Jeanette was trying hard. He then told us that his three most regular customers were Patsy Guthrie, Ellen Drake, and Barbara Simmons, who were working madly on their new novel, BEATNIKS AT HOME. As we sat, deep in conversation, a firm hand tapped us on the shoulder. With dreaded certainty, we turned to look into the stern and determined face of Melvin. Having had a quite satisfactory vacation, we decided to return with him, willingly. As we began our homeward journey, we passed three tired-looking men. After a closer look, we found them to be, Edward Stone, Robert Tempest, and Tom Trimnel. After Melvin’s consent, we were permitted to speak to them. They told us that they were engaged in an around-the-world hike, and had only 11,000 more miles to go. We wished them “good luck and fallen arches,’’ and then went on our way. Near sundown, Melvin finally allowed us to stop for food, at a roadside restaurant. As we sat down at a table, we were greeted by Adella Bey and Betty Hedrick, who told us they were the co-owners of this cafe and were very satisfied with it, even though we were their first customers in six weeks. After we had eaten, we then knew the reason for their lack of business. We started out again and soon found ourselves in front of our beloved home. Standing at the gate, waiting for us with open arms, was our new prison guard, Karen Jordan. Oh well, back to the rock pile.

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Ponder were the only doctors for miles. Tom was married finally to Lynn Ray, now deceased. (She took some of husband, Tom’s, medicine.) Carol spends very little time in her office. She’s too busy trying to find a man. We left suddenly because of howling dogs in the distance. (Drat that Blackburn.) In our rapid retreat, we noticed a sign stating that we were now traveling on an Ever-road , designed by a former Hauser graduate, Gloria Everroad. We soon reached the outskirts of a bustling metropolis, Calhoun City, named after its distinguished mayor and local hero, Alfred E. Calhoun, II. We decided to stay awhile and pay Alfred a visit. Upon entering his glamorous office, we were greeted by his secretary, Dorothy Hollman. She informed us that Mayor Calhoun had won the election by a landslide, over Buddy Rich, and that Buddy is now drinking his life away in disappointment. As we sat talking, we noticed a familiar figure washing the windows, and upon inquiry, we found that it was Margaret Ferguson, an old classmate. Then, because of that old familiar ring of barking dogs, we made a hasty departure down the fire escape. As we reached the bottom, we quickly, hailed a taxi and discovered the driver was none other than Mary McIntyre. While she hurriedly drove us to the bus station, she told us that she bought all of her gas at the “Pay More, Get Less’’ gas station, owned by Janet Lucas and Joyce Titus, both of whom are married to Mike Stafford, now in hiding. As we passed the local park, we saw some one spraying the bushes. We discovered that it was none other than the bush of all bushes, Eugene Bush. Having no time to stop and chat, (because of guess-who), on we flew to the station. Upon reaching it, we hopped out, and after borrowing bus fare fromour former classmate, Kenneth Mote, who is now an internationally-known musician, we quickly purchased our tickets from Dorothy Dykes. We asked Dorothy how long she had been selling tickets and she said, “Oh, I’m not really a ticket saleswoman, actually I’m personal barber to the now-famous actor, Otis Webb. I’m only selling tickets because Otis is letting his hair and beard grow long for his portrayal of “Big Otis”, on the OK commercials.’’ As we bid farewell to Dorothy, we jumped on our bus and then jumped off again, when we discovered the bus driver was Gary Robertson. However, we had no choice, but to get back on, as we again were hearing the dreaded bellow of Blackburn’s Bloodhounds. We shakily took our seats, and found that our neighbor was Barbara Owens, now happily married to a prosperous Bartholomew County farmer. (Guess who?) She informed us that this bus line was owned by a former classmate, Richard Sons, that being the reason for the unusual name on the bus, Richard Sons Sons. She also mentioned that Helen Spicer is no ordinary spicer; she spices all of the President’s food with a smile. That just proves that what this world needs is more nicer spicers like Helen. As Gary turned to agree with her, a large tree appeared before us. Crrasshhh!!!! The next thing we knew, we found ourselves lying in the hospital, with the smiling faces of Judy and Julia Diewert beaming down upon us. They asked us if we were going to pay our bill in cash, or through our insurance company. When we stated we had neither, their smiles dissolved and so did the bed. We suddenly found ourselves lying in the gutter. We still might be lying there, had it not been for the assistance of a staggering gentleman, who helped us to our feet. We, in turn, had to help him to his feet. As we all stumbled to our feet, we discovered the weaving gentleman was none other than Mike Duling, the city’s leading alcoholic. We managed to gather some hiccough- invaded information from Mike, after a few hours of patient coaching. He finally mumbled the reason for his condition was the constant nagging of his wife, the former Roberta Herron. He also mumbled that he spent most of his time at Nad-o’s Bar, co-owned by two Hauser graduates, Morris and Delores Nading. He then suddenly staggered away mumbling something about it being time for the Alcoholics Anonymous Meeting. As we turned around to continue our journey, we saw a familiar figure in the distance, so we abruptly changed our course and fled the scene. Our new course took us through Grenwich Village, and being quite a ways ahead of Melvin, we decided to stop and chat with a few of the “beat” ones. We saw a sign pointing the way to “Sneedys’ Hideaway’’, and figuring this would be the easiest way to meet some of the inhabitants, we cautiously made our way down the smoke-filled stairway. As we made our entrance.

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Smoi Milk I, Tom Beeker, will my physique to Joe Moore, my table manners to Merrill Emerick, and my ability to drive to Dick Andrews and Don Trimbell. I, Melvin E. Blackburn, will my ability to play basketball to Jim Simmons. I, Gene Bush, will my ability to survive 4 years of math, science, and English to my cousin. I, Junior Calhoun, refuse to will anything because I haven’t anything to will. I, Dave Cobble, will my ability to get 3’s to Harold Sims, and my ability to keep cars to Jack Banks and my driving ability to Sally Compton. I, Judith Dewiert, will my position as Home Ec. comedian to Patti Paetzel, my deep voice to Carol Bense, and my slide rule to the waste Basket. I, Julia Dewiert, will my courage to have my hair cut to Rhonda Garris and my ability to give a speech without laughing to Terry DeBusk and Cynthia Holder. I, Ellen Drake, will my ability to drive without hitting anything except telephone poles to Zera Frazier-Bey. I, Mike Duling, will my ability to get 3’s to everyone in the school. I, Dorothy Dykes, will my ability to do everything wrong to everyone who does everything right. I, Gloria Jean Ever road, will my ability to get Business Math to Jim Lobdell, and my ability to get along with Jr. Calhoun and Edward Stone to Linda Beeker and Phyllis Walker. I, Tommy Flora, will my basketball ability to Merrill Emerick, and my speed to Ab Bey. I, Jack Franklin, will my ability to go on a date with someone without talking about another girl while I’m with her to D. V., and a dime and my class ring to Mary Lou Wilson so in 2 years she can call me up and ask me to go steady. I, Adella Frazier-Bey, will nothing to nobody, not because I am so stingy but because I’m so poor and need every little measly thing for myself. I, Margaret Ferguson, will my slim figure to Phyllis Walker, and my teachers to anyone who will have them. I, Betty Gabriel, will need everything I own in my future years, therefore I will no one nothing. I, Patsy Guthrie, will my school books to anyone who wants them. I, Sandra Hadley, will my ability to type to Donna Stader, and my bookkeeping text to anyone that will have it. I, Barbara Ann Harris, will my A’s to my sister Jeannie Harris, my ability to get along with the teachers to Virginia Ray, and my brother to anyone who wants him. I, Betty Hedrick, will my blonde streak to Mytrle McClintic and my ability to come to school 5 days in a row to Pat Sneed. I, Betty Herron, will my sweet tempered voice to Carol Bense, and my even walk to Diana Van Arsdall.