Jersey Shore High School - Orange and Black Yearbook (Jersey Shore, PA)

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JERSEY SHORE HIGH SCHOOL 21 There was a loud knock on the door, and J. M. unfortunately was sitting nearest the door and as the age of chivalry and knighthood had not passed CCursesl J, J. M. got up and opened the door. A little girl with an exceedingly vacuous expression on her face entered and said to him, ls diss the nrst gwade? He politely murmured, HOh, yes, and reseated himself. Little girl, said the teacher, go to the back of the room and take a seat. No, I don' wanna, said the little girl, I wanna sit with this boy, and she walked over and sat down with the embarrassed J. M. What's your name? said the little girl, Mine is M. B. Get going, you little Vixen! whispered J. M. threateningly. No, said M. B., I Wanna sit with you. Oh, you won't go, huh? said J. M, He reached out an ungen- tlemanly hand, grasped M. Bfs hair, and began forcibly to eject the little girl from her seat. Julius Max Simon! said the teacher, you go to the oflice and stay there until recess. I'll teach you to pull a little girl's hair! And with this command began a new and interesting chapter in little J. M.'s life, the ending of which still hinges on the generosity of the faculty of Jersey Shore High School as to whether they'd like to see his beaming physiognomy around the building another nine and a fourth months after June 7, 1938! .I sl ll 44 u MY PRAYER BETTY ROBISON Dear God, It is with humblest heart That I have surrendered to you My soul. I have experienced sorrow and have sinned. But even in my blackest moments, You have been my light. When I was in need, You did not fail to comfort me. Keep on guiding my steps aright Through the treacherous paths, That I may, upon end, Come to Thee with a pure and loving heart. Amen.

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20 THE ORANGE AND BLACK J. M. did not learn to walk nearly as easily as he learned to talk, because of the corpulence of his body: he weighed twenty pounds in his tri-cornered trousers, and his legs would simply not carry the load that was thrust upon them. Years passed, and little J. M. grew from a crying, fretting infant to ia beautiful smiling baby with a marked ability of attracting and hold- ing the attention and affections of the weaker sex. Among his con- quests at this tender age of two years were two very vivacious young ladies, H. L. and E. M., but I am happy to state that J. M. emerged victorious from his jousts with Dan Cupid. About this time an incident occurred that was very disturbing to J. M., namely, a battle for his affections. It seems that little J. M. was no longer interested in H. L. and began transferring his affections to E. M. Consequently H. L. resented this slight and engaged E. M. in prac- tically mortal combat for the right and distinction of solely receiving his affections, or if you please, being his prima donna. After witnessing this battle for hisfaffections, J. M. resolved that this must never happen again, and finally, after four days of meditation he figured out this phi- losophy, A woman is only as pretty as cosmetics will make her. The next several years passed without incident in the life of little J. M., excluding the fact that his parents moved from the upper part of town, where the foul breezes blow, down town where the very air is a sweet nectar and life itself is made sweeter by the beautiful environ- ment. The following fall a startling realization suddenly dawned on J. M. - he must start to school in September! School - that place from whence came tales of horror, tales of lessons so arduous and long that it took hours to prepare them, tales of teachers so severe that you would be whipped for simply breathing! Little J. M. discussed the bated sub- ject with his friends and playmates, and they decided that on the open- ing day of school they should all go to school together in a group, a sort of mutual protection plan. Accordingly on the second day of September J. M. and five of his friends walked with fear and trepidation to the brick pile known as the Broad Street School and entered the fatal room. In the room was a group of perhaps twenty children of various sizes, shapes, and descriptions. J. M. had just seated himself when he heard a loud wail of protest from the hall and heard a voice say, Now, S ----- , you must go into that room. No, mamma, I don' wanna! I'm scared of that lady! Just at that moment the lady entered with her little girl, who was still clinging desperately to her mother's dress. Hey, Simon, asked Ed Schmidt, who's that little cutie? I don't know, Ed, but I believe it's that little H ----- girl that lives across from the high school, replied J. M. Boy, isn't she the squalling brat, though! CAlas! He did not suspect that the squalling brat would grow up to be a quite popular young lady, well known for her ability to break masculine hearts, a Borgia, if you pleaseb.

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22 THE ORANGE AND BLACK EIGHTEEN YEARS HAVE PASSED Cl-IARL GETGEN WAS born November 1, 1919 at Uncle Tom's Circle Star Ranch. Twin Falls, Texas. I was christened Dareth Gainesworth Getgen. I do not remember anything of my life there, because I was only thirteen months old when we left the Red River and went to the D-O- Bar, Dad's brother Dareth's ranch in southern Texas. Mother and Dad came North to Jersey Shore, Pennsylvania QWher- ever that waslj and left me with Aunt Ida and Uncle Dareth. I stayed with them in Texas till I was four years old. I had a pony of my own and ideas of being a cowboy like Uncle Dareth, but Aunt Ida soon abol- ished these. Her son, my cousin, Baten Worth, was gored to death by a breeding bull which broke loose one morning. This hit Aunt Ida hard, because he was her only son. About a year after his death, Aunt Ida had to have a change of scene to recover from a nervous breakdown. Uncle Dareth moved to Arizona to his birthplace. It was a great change from the rolling plains of Texas to the mesquite and Chaparral brush of Arizona. After I got used to the change, I liked Arizona better than I did Texas. It was here I saw my first real round-up. Uncle Dareth was recovering from a broken arm, and so he took me on my pony to watch. Everything was hurry, hurry, hurry, but the maximum efficiency of a round-up crew was acquired. Everything moved along smoothly till I was six years old. Uncle Dareth decided it was time for me to get some book learning: so he en- rolled me in the school at the little town of Split Rock, about ten miles from home. I didn't like school so well: so I was always inventing new excuses for staying home, from headaches to slipping stones under my pony's shoes. There was no one else my age near to play with, and I sought my own amusement, which sometimes led to trouble for me and the men. I remember the worst trick I ever did was done unintentionally. I went out to the South corral one morning to see some new colts. I played around the corral for a while and then left, and forgot to close the corral gate. It was not discovered till afternoon, and by that time the horses were scattered over the range, with the young colts making a prospective supper for the coyote. It was a good thing there was no preacher within a mile radius, or his face would have been red when this was discovered. It was about l 10 degrees in the shade, and to run horses is hard on theml Another favorite habit of mine was getting water in a bucket and soaking the men's ropes in it. If there is anything a cowboy hates worse than walking, it is getting his rope wet. One day a letter came from the North, and Aunt Ida informed me I was to go East. I didn't want to go, and she didn't want me to go. but Mother and Dad had their way, and I came East.