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

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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

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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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Many years had passed since I had last heard of my fellow classmates of 1919 and I had often wondered about them; as one who grows old will wonder about the friends of his youth. Hearing of the Crystal Bowl and of the wonders which it could reveal I determined to put it to the test of informing me of my old classmates. So suiting the action to the word 1 got out my little plane and headed for the clairvoyant. After explaining my errand to the Mistress of the Bowl she gave me entrance to my Mystery Room and told me to gaze my fill. So I looked into the Crystal Bowl and after a few minutes the first thing to reward my patience was a glimpse of the president of our dear old class. Tip Carlson. He stood upon a brilliantly lit stage and from the movements of his lips I took it he was singing, and to a rapt audience. That vision quickly passed and was replaced by one that was familiar yet unfamiliar to me. One thing was sure, I was in Jacksonville again- Then it dawned on me that it was the once new and wonderful High School building of which we as Seniors had only heard tell, now somewhat the worse for wear and age. The scene moved inside the building and to a room where a number of people were gathered- From all evidences it was a teachers’ meeting, and with a start I recognized Elson Pires, Irene Groves, Louise Struck, Mable Tholen, Martha Priest and Roger Carter, the latter a living image of his father. Upon turning my attention to the principal who was presiding over the meeting I almost knocked the Bowl from its moorings for despite grey hairs, wrinkles and a greatly increased avoirdupois there stood Sid Hoblit beyond a doubt, behind the principal’s chair! Before 1 had time to recover from my surprise at this the scene passed and I was succeeded by one which puzzled me not a little at first, then I realized I was being shown through a residence street of my native city, the Page Thirty-one