Johnson St Paris High School - Parisian Yearbook (Saint Paris, OH)

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but we also gained two. They were Hubert Robbins, who came here from Rosewood, and Eleanor Brough, who came from Miamisburg. We also had a new corps of teachers. Miss Gordon, of Delaware, became our English and History teacher, and such times as we had in those classes. Our classes were enlivened by the presence of Warren Pence and Harold Shank and through witty remarks. Miss Kramer, f Somerton, was also a new teacher. Miss Kramer was more strict with us than Miss Gordon, but such a bril- liant and learned class as ours could not easily be subdued and our boisterousness broke out in other forms elsewhere. Mr. Klapp, a graduate of St. Paris High School, also came to us that year as prin- cipal. We owe much to our new teachers, as well as Miss Nixon and Superintendent Turner for our success thus far. Our buds had become blossoms. Our dominant characteristics were changing with the unfolding of the larger blooms. It might be explained thus: Next year how their heads were swelling With the lore wise fools acquire. Ask them why they fail in telling. And they turn as red as fire. But red is the color of summer warmth and light and sunshine and even on the cheek it speaks of hope. JUNIOR—AUTUMN As in Nature, so in school life, “Leaves have their time to fall and flowers to wither.” The harvest soon came and we began to reap what we had sown in our Freshman year, and had car'd for so tenderly in our Soph''more ye r rt brought to us the glad Thanksgiving time, thankful that we had acquired much knowledge; thankful that we were no longer lower classmen, but would soon be dignified Seniors. This year we still had the same corps of teachers, but we received three new members, Irene Roberts, Thirza and Naomi Bodey. We also lost Charles Neal. This year wan indeed a h rvest for we worked hard and achieved much, and we no longer b'ushed when asked to explain some unexpected question. Our class meetings, although few, will be long remembered along with those of our Freshman and Sophomore days. But everything could not be smooth sailing, soon we must pass examinations if we were to become Seniors. We had passed through the stage of crimson con- fusion, we no longer were Juniors oft in doubtful wonder, Puzzling what they ought to know, Scowled like clouds of blackest thunder, Felt as blue as indiago. SENIORS—WINTER Even this stage passed on; and the fruits of knowledge were all gathered and stored away in our brains, and with the coming of winter we feel that our new seeds of understanding will be ready to come forth when again the warm days of spring return. Rugged in our young mmhood and womanhood and clad in the spotless rai- ment of winter we ventured forth upon the last road to the end of our course. We began our Senior year with twenty- three members but lost Hubert Clem and Eleanor Brungh, receiving two new mem- bers, Theban Emrick from Granville, and Mildred Mitchell. We have a new principal this year. Mr. George Carl. Also another teacher in High School, although not a new teacher in the school. Mi’s Colvin crme to us to fill the vacancy of Miss Kramer. Those who graduate this year are: Genevieve Brown, Ruth C'emnnns, Thirza Bodey, Nellie H 'hn, Mildred Ginn, Ruth Rider, Mildred Mitchell. The'ma Emrick, Irene Roberts, Naomi Bodey, Harry Sprague, Hubert Robbins, Theodore Harter, Harley Pence, Clydus Steinberger, Herman Smith, Harold Shank and Warren Pence, Thus with twenty-two faithful members of class ’23 about to graduate, we leave dear old S. P. H. S. We are leaving our school life of struggles and triumphs for life’s school. Whether it will be triumph or struggles we know not. Thus we enter life’s school as Freshmen no longer green or red or even blue. For the last year satisfying Must all shadows surely blow. Senior life is purifying And we pass, as white as snow.

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Parisian 1923 History of the Class of ’23 Life is a full blown year, With all things in their season; Thus, in our school career, Each change hath rhyme and reason. The seasons come and go Each with its gift in hand, That we may see and know How well all life is planned. FRESHMAN—SPRING Spring is the time when all green and living things burst into life. The green grass, flowers and trees send out their green leaves or shoots. That is why we call our Freshmen year our spring. We were just starting out in High School life. We were young and green (?) perhaps but we were not the first class nor yet the last class that has been called green. Although it was the springtime of our life it was not spring in the season. The day that we first ventured forth upon our quest of knowledge was a bright sunshiny day in October, there were 28 of us. When we arrived at the new school build- ing we wandered about, not knowing where to go as this was our first year in the new building. Finally Mr. Loudenback, our teacher, came up and directed us to our room. It was then that we first felt that we belonged somewhere. But thereafter our presence was felt for we began the first month by having a class meeting at Harry Sprague’s. This was a business as well as a social meeting and we elected the following class officers: President—Clydus Steinberger. Vice President—Harold Shank. Secretary—Genevieve Brown. Treasurer—Nellie Hahn. They have served the class faithfully all through our High School life. We were also given rules to follow and were initiated, but the rules as well as the initiation were soon forgotten. The Freshman year was full of interest- ing happenings for this class. Never will we forget those days, especially the time spent in the Study Hall under Mr. Laugh- ridge. We presented a very perplexing problem to our teachers, as we seemed to know so many of the tricks of High School life which they had never supposed small Freshmen to be acquainted with. The most exciting event of our Freshman year was the unexpected elcpement of Roma Cretors Croft. Other events followed fast upon each other and before long we were passing out of the Freshman Class to become Sopho- mores. This year we lost Treva Albright from our ranks. Thus our first vear in High School might be summed up by saying of ourselves: Once came eight and twenty babies Through our magic gates to pass, Scattering “If you please” and “maybes.” Weren’t they as green as grass. SOPHOMORE—SUMMER Summer time of our lives soon came upon us with an abundance of flowers, blue skies and sunshine. Our spring flowers were gone but in their place unfolded the beautiful flowers of sum- mer. We tried so hard to hold up our heads, for our flowers of knowledge were beginning to unfold. In this way our Sophomore year came upon us. With it came many new pleasures and duties. We were no longer little Fresh- men who could be oppressed and dictated to by our lordly upper classmen, but found ourselves in the ranks of the upper class- men. We could make rules for the Fresh- men and initiate them into the ups and downs of High School life, and this we certainly did, as those Freshmen will re- member. That year we lost two of our classmates. They were Thelma Purk and Lester Heck,

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Parisian Class Prophecy Listen, O ye men and women! Listen, all ye people of Saint Paris and harken unto the words of your prophet, who now speaketh what hath been revealed unto her. For it has again come to pass as in the days of the prophets of old, that the veil of the future has been lifted and it hath been given unto me to phophesy unto you what the glories of the years to come are to be. And I heard a voice as from the heavens sav unto me. “Harken unto me; hear now my words; I will speak unto vou in a vision; I will prophesy unto you in a dream.” And straightway there appeared in a cloud the lovely and beautiful form of the Spirit of Prophesy, who pointing with a transparent forefinger, bade me look into the future. So, I, even as St. John, am able to prophesy unto you concerning the future of this, the brilliant and learned class of 1923 of Saint Paris High School. And as I peered into the dim shadows of the future I was able to discern familiar shapes and forms of those who walked with me in the good old days in S. P. H. S. in 1923. The first figure that I was able to discern among the shadows was the erect form of our noble Class President, Clydus Stein- berger. He was addressing the Senate with the same erect and noble bearing which he used so forcefully when speaking to us in old S. P. H. S. (although he had lost the familiar blush). Suddenly the scene changed and I found myself in a large city which I knew to be Saint Paris, by the school that I attended. But what a change! The city had grown apparently overnight or I had put one over on Rip Van Winkle by sleeping twenty years also, for just then I noted a slip of paper with the date June 3, 1943 written upon it. As I was staring about, astounded by the size and beauty of the city, I heard a noise and turned to a street car coming towards me. As I stepped aside I noticed that the motorm in was Harley Pence, al- though not so young as in the old days, nevertheless he still looked natural. I certainly was getting the surprise of my life for as I turned about I saw a short figure standing at the window of the Cen- tral National Bank and upon closer obser- vavtion I knew it was the editor of our An- nual who had become the banker. “Shorty” was still the dignified personage of former years. Now I began to wonder what had become of the girls that I had known so long ago when I suddenly came upon the prettiest bungalow near the suburbs of some great city. As I stared in amazement, a youthful looking housewife came out upon the broad veranda. I at once recognized her as Nellie Hahn, but before I could speak to her the scene changed and I found myself in a strange and foreign country. It must have been India for the people were dark and their customs were strange. I began to wonder why I should be there when I saw a mission house nearby; as the door was open I decided to enter. Presently 1 s w a young lady talking to a group of small children. I soon recognized her as Thelma Emrick. I soon found myself back again in the U. S. I was somewhat tired after my jour- ney so I thought I would go to hear the New York Symphony Orchestra. I thought it must be good because I saw advertise- ments about it almost everywhere I turned. Imagine my surprise to see Mildred Mitchell playing the saxaphone and Ruth Clemmons the first violin. The scene changed suddenly and I looked upon the splendid likeness of Warren Pence. “What was Warren up to now?” I wondered when my eyes turned to the writing beside the picture. It read “Warren Pence, the Great Juggler and Sleight of Hand Perform- er will be seen tonight for the last time this season in one of the Greatest Sensations of the times, as he soon leaves for an extended tour of Europe.” So that is what had become of Warren. I picked up a imgazine and began to read an article on “My Experience While On a Tour of the Tomb of King Tut.” It was certainly interesting and just to think that