Jarratt High School - Builders Yearbook (Jarratt, VA)

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Miss Hazel Pryor Batte. A hush descended upon the auditorium and as the golden notes floated out on the evening breeze, my mind seemed to float with them and soonIwas entering a tall, office build- ing. As I stood, wondering what I was doing there, I spied a very familiar-looking girl working hard at a typewriter. I walked slowly over to where she sat, and as her fingers paused on the keys, she looked up at me. When I heard her infectious laughter, I knew that this efficient secretary was----Juliette Carter. By that time I was fast asleep and could no longer hear the pro- fessor’s voice, but I heard many feminine voices blended in a dis- cussion of various topics. I found myself in an attractive living room where a sewing circle was holding its meeting. The hostess, a tall, graceful, young woman, sat down beside me and welcomed me warmly. She, too, seemed very familiar. Her sense of humor reminded me of-no, it couldn't be--but it was----Dorothy Starke. And now I seemed to be wandering about on a large, beautiful campus. This looked like--but how the place had changed: Three huge brick buildings now stood where one had formerly. I couldn't believe it but this was ‘‘dear ole Jarratt High.’’ And now I entered a lovely classroom filled with eager, ambitious students. My eyes wandered beyond them to where the instructor stood. This was a surprise: Our oniy Senior boy, James Prince, was teaching a Biology class: His favorite subject: He was lecturing on ‘‘The Survival of the Fittest’’ when he noticed a young lad fast asleep on the back row. Professor Prince marched to the back of the room and shook the boy roughly to arouse him and through a hazy mist I could hear the professor's voice saying as he shook me, ‘ Young lady, do you realize that you slept through the entire spelling con- test? This is against all rules but if you can manage to keep awake I'll call the list of words to you now. ' I was completely speechless with surprise, but very much re- freshed, as I resolved to keep awake and set to work with a deter- mination to win, not for myself but for dear old J. H. S. bdae Fall. 12

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CLASS PROPHECY Events had been crowding one another so fast, I felt as if my head were whirling around and around faster than a plane out of control plunging to the ground. Music festivals, District SCA meetings, Junior-Senior dance and Forensic meets all kad been crowded into one short week. The last of these events was taking place, the Forensic meet, at Charlottesville. I was sitting in Room 14, Madison Hall. A professor was firing words at us like bullets from a rifles i shook my head, but it just would not clear. Never had I heard such words. Was he calling words from a foreign language: Finally, in despair, I leaned my head, my poor, aching, whirling, head on my hand and gave up all hope of bringing renown and honor to my school. Just at that moment a word was called that registered in my mind. ‘‘Metamorphosis ’ repeated the professor. We had learned that word in Biology. Funny, why it should, but that word reminded me of the Senior Class. (I suppose I had worked too hard trying to make that dance a success for the Seniors.) Day after day they had worked, even drudged. All their thoughts, their energies had been to do their school work well. They had been as drab and uninterest- ing as worms. The night of the dance--will I ever forget it. How gorgeous they were, how beautiful! No worms could turn into butterflies as beautiful as our Seniors had become: The professor was calling another word (not that I cared.) Receptionist’’ I heard him say and suddenly I was in a doctor’s reception room. Mother had told me if I kept going without getting enough rest that I'd have a nervous breakdown. ‘ This must beiat;:’ thought I. The doctor soon examined me and assured me that there was nothing wrong with me that a week’s solid rest wouldn’t cure. Naturally, that lifted a load off my mind, so that I even smiled.at the receptionist as I went out. When I did, I recognized a face. Surely I knew this person. You are----but I could go no farther, for she smilingly supplied the missing words--I’m Marjorie Harrell. I knew I could never have forgotten her smile. As I stood there, discussing old times with Marjorie, an attractive, dark-haired woman entered the room. Holding tight to her hand was a pretty little girl with dark curls and brown eyes, and exact replica of her mother. After explaining to the receptionist that she and her husband had driven in from their farm to have their small daughter vaccinated, she turned and a look of recognition flashed across her face and I knew that it was none other than Margaret Mattox. I was jolted back to reality by the booming voice of the professor calling another word. ‘‘Soloist’’ he said, and I felt myself slipping into another reverie and soon found myself in a huge auditorium, crowded with people who seemed to be applauding a young girl who stood on the stage. I watched closely for I felt sure that I knew this slim, blonde girl. Then I heard a man's voice saying, ‘‘And it gives me great pleasure to present our soprano soloist for the evening-- 11

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LUCILLE ALLEN EMILY BENDALL NANCY GRAHAM WALTER HARRELL 5 EDNA HALL VIVIAN HARRELL VIRGINIA JOYNER LUCY NEAL ALTON OWEN JEAN PROCTOR RYLAN PRITCHETT LOUISE ROBBINS WILLIAM STARKE LOIS STARKE 13