Jacksonville High School - Crimson J Yearbook (Jacksonville, IL)

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(Elass TCistor? $ One afternoon, having a few spare hours, I visited the High School. As I walked from room to room the days were vividlv brought back to me when I, myself, attended the High School. That same evening, seated before an open fire, having refreshed my memory by a few old, well thumbed copies of the Crimson J, I fell into a reverie concerning the days when the class of 1919 were attending High School. One by one interesting scenes flitted before my eyes. Once again I saw us as Freshmen, How innocent and childlike we were then! I saw our party at Dunlap Springs, our victory in the Nautilus contest, and the subsequent party, at which we attempted to dance, despite the wishes of Principal Collins. Then, again, I beheld the Inter-class Basketball Tournament and our defeat, and finally the last of May and temporary freedom. Once more, this time Sophomores, and under a new principal, again I lived over, in fancy, the class party at Smith’s, when the interferring upper classmen were put to rout. Again I saw the struggle of the Inter-class Tournament and another defeat. And so, to another May. Once again my fancy painted this class, this time Juniors, one step higher in the scale of evolution. Now our country was at war; and everywhere was the excitement of patriotism. The Y. M. C. A. campaign with everyone giving the limit, and, indicative of the amount pledged, a big thermometer, which finally had to have an extension on top of it! After holidays were over we experienced another defeat in the Class Tourney, which, by the way was becoming regular- But the thing that comes to me most clearly and most vividly is the fire! Who will forget that memorable night, when we saw our building and everything in it destroyed? In spite of this, however, a few days saw us settled in our new home, the school across the alley, and hard at work as usual. May brings another campaign, this time Red Cross, in which the High School set an enviable record, one to be proud of. Seniors! At last the goal was reached, the ambition of the Freshmen, the hope of the Sophomores, and the reward of the Juniors. It is true, we had no High School building; it is true, we had an enforced vacation of several months, with the prospect of making it up; it is true, we had no societies and few of the things that make High School life delightful, but, nevertheless, we were Seniors. This year saw many changes in the faculty, among them a new principal. The first thing of importance I recall, after our vacation, was the arrival of the long looked for Senior rings—those wonderful rings, with their “white gold.” The next great event was the Junior-Senior Banquet. Well do I remember the rumors, the counter rumors, that presaged this affair, and final- Page Twenty-nine.

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1919 Ol)e (Trimson “H” 1919 Elizabeth Cogswell. “Betsy.” Favorite Author; Grace Richmond Favorite Novel; Quo Vadis. Favorite Poem; Sohrab and Rus-tum. Favorite Flower; Lily of the Valley. Favorite Occupation; Reading. Adelphian 16; Kappa Gamma 17, 18; Chorus ’16, '18, '19; “My Son Arthur '17; The New Co-Ed '18; Centennial Club '18; Crimson J Staff; Athletic Association. Donald R. Williamson. “Don.” Favorite Author; Ralph Connor. Favorite Novel; Count of Monte Cristo. Favorite Poem; Morte D'Arthur. Favorite Flower; Magnolia. Favorite Occupation; Reading. Louise Struck. “Struckie.” Favorite Author; Grace Richmond. Favorite Novel; The Star in the Country Sky. Favorite Poem; L'Allegro. Favorite Flower; Rose. Favorite Occupation; Reading. Adelphian '16; Kappa Gamma '18; Centennial Club '18; Windmills of Holland '18; Athletic Association. Page Twenty-eight.

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1919 Ol)e (Trimson “3’’ 1919 ly the night itself—in which the elements all conspired against us in vain— the “elaborate spread”, and the many eloquent speeches. At last the final glory was reached, commencement. Will I ever forget it? The speeches, the white dresses, the serious looks, the fond parents, etc. Then, with our precious diplomas clutched tightly in our respective hands, we were duly graduated and launched on the sea of life. I awoke with a start. The fire had burned quite low, in fact, was almost out. As I replenished it, for the night was cold, I mused upon my dream. Or was it a dream ? Had it really happened ? It seemed so long ago. What had become of those friends of my youth? VINTON T. WOODS. Page Thirty