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Page 18 text:
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Senior Class Prophecy Let’s gaze into the crystal ball and predict the future of the Senior Class. The year is 1965: Kingsville is a great seaway port. As we travel through the town, we notice the many changes. The Hotel El Lako—that looks like a nice place where we can spend the night. Let’s go inside. Wait a minute! That doorwoman looks familiar. Why it’s Annabell L’Amoreaux! Annabel! says that she has been working here for three years. We are curious to know who owns this lavish hotel, so we ask the desk clerk. Not really! The owner of this hotel is none other than Bill Mc- Garry. There he is now. We chat for a while; Bill tells us that one of our classmates, Bette Risley, is married to the left-handed fiddler who is now starring in his floorshow. staring in his floorshow. After we reserve a room, we head toward the harbor. That fellow sitting by that building looks vaguely familiar. We are surprised to see it is Bill Carlson—he’s working for the Kingsville Fish Company—mending fishnets. Oh, there’s an ocean liner. What do you say we go aboard? What a coincidence! Frank Clay- man, the All-American playboy. Frank informs us that he has just returned from a vacation in France. He says that on his trip, he saw Nancy Carter, who has just made her first million dollars playing the stock market. She is living on Fifth Avenue in New York now. What do you say we have a milkshake? There is the soda bar. Guess who’s behind the counter. That’s right, Virginia Good. What an exciting job That’s irght, Virginia Good. What an exciting job —she sees the world through “a floating drugstore window.” Was that a scream? It certainly was. What are all the women running from. It must be that little man down there. That little man is none other than Donald Edixon. What happened, Don? “Oh, nothing really. I just caught another rat. You see, I am the rat exterminator on this liner.” Let’s continue our tour. It was really interest- ing to see how our former classmates are getting along in the world. Oh, no! Dale Hayes, what are you doing to that boat? You’re taking it apart. What for? Dale says that he works for a reclamation company—in oth- er words, he’s a boat wrecker. There’s John Holcomb on the end of that pier. He paints the piers for the City Dock Company. John is very excited. He has been asked to judge the annual beauty contest this year. Congratula- tions, John. That looks like Wilma Louden down on the beach. That girl she’s talking to looks familiar, too. It’s Mary Jo Loesch. Mary Jo is a life-guard, and a very pretty one, too. Since she has taken this post, there have been many attempts at drown- ing; but, thanks to Mary Jo, none have succeeded. Wilma says that she spends her summer as a beachcomber, and in the winter she goes to Florida and does some deep sea fishing. The beachcomb- ing position must be a money-making proposition. That looks like Ruth coming toward us. Ruth tells us that she is in training. Next summer she plans to swim across Lake Erie. In the meantime, she intends to practice on smaller bodies of water such as the Ashtabula River. We’re back up town again. Is that Bill Schreck standing in front of the bowling alley? Yes, it is. Bill is a well-known poet now. He writes poetry for the Ladies’ Home Journal. Bill has had an enjoyable afternoon bowling and talking to the owner who is Russell Westcott, no less. It seems that Russell didn’t get enough bowling in his sen- ior year at old K. H. S. Evelyn Hinkle, whom we met at the hotel, tells us that Wilson Osburn owns a speedway just south of town. Evelyn is in town this week for a special racing event. Wilson is letting her race her trained snails at his track. We hear that Ronnie Means is also interested in racing. It seems that he won the “purse” of $21.63 in the stock car event last Saturday. Who is that getting into that limousine? It couldn’t be, but it is, Arthur Wilkinson. He is on his way to the airport to do some flying. He owns his own plane, you know. Art is mayor of this fair city. He surely reached the top in a short time. It’s getting late, but we have one more stop before we go back to the hotel. The school. It’s still the same old, wonderful school. It’s after four o’clock, but let’s go in anyway. There is the prin- cipal’s office, and look who is sitting in the chair behind the desk. Fred Roerdanz. Fred is the prin- cipal now. He worked his way up from the bot- tom; he started as a janitor and went to night school. At dinner, Bill McGarry says that there is go- ing to be a wonderful show on TV, and we are invited by the owner to come and see it. David Webster is there to greet us. You guessed it, David is the owner of TV station WKHS. We ask him what the show is about, but he says it’s a surprise. There is Ken Smith over on the set. Yes, he’s working for David as head camera man. The show is about to begin, but first the com- mercial. What’s Bill Smith doing on this show? He writes singing commercials and also sings them. Very interesting job. On with the show! It’s the “Meet the Press” show, or “It Takes All Kinds of People to Make a World.” The guest tonight is a big game hunter and his animal trainer. Do you know who they are? Neither did we at first. They are Dick Sim- mons and Helen Wolfgang. Dick hunts big game in Africa and has quite a collection, so he says. Helen has done well with her job, too. So far she has lost only one toe. Our crystal ball is beginning to cloud over. I guess this experience was just too much. It does seem that the members of the Senior Class of ’55 have done very well for themselves.
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Page 19 text:
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We, the graduating class of 1955, of the city of Kingsville, county of Ashtabula, and state of Ohio, being of sound mind and memory, do hereby make, publish, and declare this to be our last will and testament, hereby revoking any will or wills heretofore made by us. I, Nancy Carter, will my Friday excuses to Carol Ann Oren. I, Bill McGarry, will my girls to anyone who likes a long drive. We, Kenny and Bill Smith, will our tall tales about men from Mars to Richard Branch. We hope he doesn't turn green. I, Annabell L’Amoreaux, will my ability to get the news for my column (under any circum- stances) to Linda Westcott. You will need it. I, Ronald Means, will my big build and quiet- ness to Gary Bancroft. I, Ruth Simak, will my slenderness to Marian Hoover. I’ll give you a few hints how to keep it! I. Evelyn Hinkle, will my scrapbook job back to coach. I, Wilson Osburn, will my ability to get along with Mr. Scannell to Jim Burch. I, Bill Schreck, will my luck with girls to Jim Bogart. I. Fred Roerdanz, will my comb to John Meyer. Perhaps one of the girls will leave him a few bobbypins, too. I, Virginia Good, will my ability to miss so much school to my brother. Albert. I, Wilma Louden, will my smallness to Carol J. Reed. I, Bette Risley, will my typing eraser to Leroy Campbell. (You don’t get it until the end of the year, though). I, Helen Wolfgang, will my fudge to Francis Onion. I, Mary Jo Loesch. will my short hair cut to Shirley Kapala. I. Bill Carlson, will my get up and go (which got up and went) to Willie Hochchild. I, Art Wilkinson, will my millions to Bill Brooker. I, David Webster, will my loving ways to Frank Bobey. I, Dale Hayes, will my Crosley to Frank Fisher. I, John Holcomb, will my fondness for reading to Ronnie Huey. I, Russell Westcott. will my good looks to Ladi- mar Kubicheck. I, Frank dayman, will my hunting and trap- ping ability to John O’Bell. The Senior Class as a whole hasn’t much to leave the Junior Class except good arms for bowl- ing, and an ability for procrastination. (Ask Miss Sowry). In Witness Whereof, We, The Senior Class, the testators, have set our hand and seal hereto this twenty-fifth day of May in the year of our Lord One thousand nine hundred and fifty-five (1955). CLASS OF 1955
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