Horace Mann High School - Horace Manual Yearbook (Gary, IN)

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eiiLO A hope has been realized, a goal has been reached —Seniors at last! The time draws near when with mingled feelings of joy and sorrow, we must bid farewell to the ivy-covered walls which for four short years have sheltered us as we studied our Books. Here we had our fun, our interests, and our studies. With a treasure-chest of memories of our high school days, we soon shall go from Horace Mann fully appreciative of all that our instructors have done in helping us shape our destinies. BOB LANDECK— From every angle he measures up a scholar, an athlete, and a gentleman. RUTH BRENNAN— ' Tis passing strange that one so small Has charm and courage enough for all. FRED JONES— Emperor Jones—a democratic king of men! WINNIE WINSOR— A picture painted with the brushes of loveliness and intelligence.

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Have you heard of that wonderful class, I say, That began in such a discouraging way. Worked hard for four long years to a day, And then was ready to—ah, but stay. I’ll tell you my story without delay; The story of how it began its career In the shadow of the “depression year,” Have you ever heard of that, I say? Nineteen hundred and thirty-one, That was when the class was begun, Its members unknown, and its vict’ries unwon. That was the year when the first class play With Transeau as Cinderella, so gay, Managed to carry the honors away. The class will always be proud of that day. Bunty Bain occupied the president’s chair, A better leader you’ll find nowhere. Now in speaking of classes, I’ll tell you what. There is usually somewhere, a weakest spot. During one of the four of its high-school years, A class stands back or disappears. But banish now all your foolish fears For with Craig at its head in that year of years, This class came forth with a Sophomore Hop And I’m here to state—it was far from a “flop.” The “wonderful class” was nearing the top. But time rolled on as time will do And the class both wiser and stronger grew. Oh, this was a class to beat the town And the county and all the country round, For it was so formed that it couldn’t fall down. Dwyer was chosen the new class head And the treasury, from thirty dollars in the red, Leaped up to one hundred dollars ahead. And Jones, as the “emperor,” was a man! Sported his clothes and his new sun-tan. Good, I tell you, I rather guess, This class was a wonder, and nothing less. Its play, Submerged,” surpassed the rest. With Goad and Studness at their best. In every way they passed the test. Then to finish the year in a manner gay, It presented a prom which many say. Surpassed all others of the day. So came the end of the Junior year, And the goal of the class was drawing near. ’34, it came and found The wonderful class still strong and sound. It found Landeck as president of the class, And Albin, our cheer leader, swaying the mass, It found Olgy, as captain of the team, A center who really was supreme. And Sasak and Malayter, mighty mites Of the gridiron, and so many sights That ’34 just had to agree That the “wonderful class” was a sight to see. The interclub council had quite a spat Over who would take this date and who would take that But the question was settled, and the dances began Dances of every type and plan. The first “homecoming the school had seen Was given this year, and described as “keen.” Alumni came from far and near To be present at this event of the year. And the band blared forth its message to all By presenting a very successful ball. Now the class’s career is nearing an end And its members soon with the masses will blend But reviewing the victories and defeats of the class Through the four long years that have come to pass, We see they’ve achieved what all classes at¬ tempt. The goal, throughout the years, of which they have dreamt. “As ye sow, so ye reap is a saying so true, And as we see the class go by in review. We know why they’ve won this vict’ry today, They’ve worked and not wasted these four years away. —MARY K. SCOTT 16

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(Top Row) BOB CRAIG— In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow Thou’rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow, Hast so much wit and mirth and spleen about thee There is no living with thee, nor without thee.” BETTY SCULLY— Should the whole frame of nature round her break In ruin and confusion hurled. She, unconcerned, would hear the mighty crack And stand, secure amidst a falling world. For she who bravely meets the Annual fray Stands tried and tested for another day. CHARLES LUTZ— How dear to his heart are the Annual Expenses When a fond sheath of bills presents them to view, The Printer, Engraver, the Photograph taker, And every new item the sponsor could brew. The old Horace Manual, the loved Horace Manual The Horace Mann Annual, so finely put through. MARY ELIZABETH PARKER— Haste thee, nymph and bring with thee Jest and youthful jollity, O ' er my desks so brightly go With thy light fantastic toe. And I pray thee leave with me The spirit of thy gayety. JACK DWYER— Lines written in the days that used to be Fit our good sport editor to a “T”; “He ceased, but left so pleasing on my ear, His voice, that listening still, I seem to hear.” (Second Row) VIRGINIA COLE— This lady fair, arranged the nursery, Those tiny bits we love so much to see; So well she did her task; with so much grace You’ll find no tear on any baby face. PAULA SHAW— Aided and abetted by efficient Rhea Paula’s hand ne’er faltered in her work of art, They drew all the pictures, while Bettie Lou With linoleum and knife, again did her part. So these three maids, so fine and clever Left a work of beauty and joy forever. MARY K. SCOTT— Cleverly she took the history Of each olden, golden time. Passed within these loved portals And molded it in rhyme. While she looks at you demurely From those modest eyes of blue, All the time she’s hatching up A clever verse about you, too. (First Row) DAVID RADEN— Said David to his friend, Keith Crown, Let’s sketch the teachers of fair renown And put them in our own Year Book Where he who runs and reads may look.” So these brave lads did that very thing, Let’s one and all their praises sing. JANET EDMUNDS— Meet the author of all that’s good or bad Solemn or witty, humorous or sad, That’s found upon these weighty pages. Knowing they’d live throughout the ages. She has chosen her words with pride and power And worked like a Trojan— ' most every hour. VIRGINIA CARSON— There was a sound of revelry by day A clitter-clatter of the ivory keys, A thousand words leaped joyously on the page As busy fingers tried so hard to please. This fair-faced damsel with the cherub look Typed every single word within Our Book. 18