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

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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

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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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1919 Z5l)£ Crimson “3” 1919 houses which for the most part were decorated by a sign which proclaimed this or that inmate to be a doctor. The scene became stationary before one of the most prosperous looking of these residences and a closer view allowed me to read the sign on it. To my amazement it read: “June Flinn, M. D., Influenza a Specialty.” Without giving me time to do more than gasp at this the picture changed and I found myself gazing at a boxing match, the participants of which I did not recognize but a sign hanging on the wall soon enlightened me. “Will wonders never cease,” I thought for the sign informed me that Bill Winchester, champion heavyweight was boxing with Jack Hanson a Swedish champion. Before I had a chance to determine which one of the boxers was Bill the scene had changed and 1 was looking into a church. The audience was entranced by the fiery tongued eloquence of their pastor and I gave him a second glance. The glance became petrified for the pastor of such eloquence that his audience sat rapt was none other than John Woods, now the Reverend John Woods. After that I would not have been surprised at anything which the Bowl might have shown me. In the next vision I was being shown the bright lights of Broadway in general and the brilliant entrance to one of the largest theatres in particular. Passing inside the theatre, I perceived a packed house which was loudly applauding four girls on the stage- On closer inspection I recognized Helen Jackson, Hilda Ator, Florence Cox and Ursula Fawcett beneath several layers of makeup. The next scene had shifted to a group of buildings which upon closer view proved to be the University of Illinois. Entering one of the buildings 1 perceived a classroom presided over by a professor with a flowing beard. Something about this gentleman seemed familiar and I searched my memory to discover which one of my former classmates he might be. It came to me suddenly that it was none other than Glenn Bridgman. This was perhaps one of the least of the surprises which I had received. The scene proceeded to another room which I knew to be a Domestic Science Laboratory. A familiar gleam in one part of the room caught my attention and beneath the gleam I rceognized Virginia Whitlock as Instructor of Domestic Science. The vision faded and what next flashed before my astounded eyes was a moving picture. The first slide read: “Frank Rexroat presents Catherine Parker in The Capers of Catherine, supported by Perry Correa. Scenario by Beulah Tice.” Before I could digest this I found myself readig the cast of character's: Catherine Paige, Catherine Parker; Tom Wilkins, Perry Correa; Clarrissa Muriel (the vampire), Loretta Yeck; Archibald Van de Vere (the villian), Harry Sandberg. Without giving me a chance to see the performance of these stars of filmdom the vision passed rapidly and I was next gazing at a large number of men. and women performing upon different instruments. A signboard in the rear told me that this was the famous Jacksonville Symphony Orchestra. On closer inspection I recognized two violinists to be Mary Winchester and Marjorie Black. Page Thirty-two.