Knox School - Rose Leaves Yearbook (Nissequogue, NY)

 - Class of 1947

Page 16 of 210

 

Knox School - Rose Leaves Yearbook (Nissequogue, NY) online collection, 1947 Edition, Page 16 of 210
Page 16 of 210



Knox School - Rose Leaves Yearbook (Nissequogue, NY) online collection, 1947 Edition, Page 15
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Page 16 text:

RUN FULL fi - I A qulffnl l 0. Jill! spans. A g,.g....., V 1 We beg you not to ask us how we got there, the place is out of bounds. You shouldn't know anything about Rum Hill because we didn't either until one day last week. We were walking along Lake Street wondering what Father Time had in store for the Class of '47, We know you will HOF believe us when we tell you that as we pondered the fate of said students, a little man dropped from a tree branch and landed at our feet. He had lavender eyes and green hair which he patted on both sides as if anticipating an early growth of antlers. Une could easily see that he was not of this world. As in a trance we followed his ellin footsteps without further ado, followed to wherever he was bound. It was late that afternoon when we found ourselves confronted by a steep and lonely hill. Our weary feet rebelled, and as we stood watching the little man for further developments, he pointed to the summit with a gnarled finger, saying, Rum Hill, Rum Hill, the top is nearest heaven -lust reach its peak, if you must seek the fate of the Class of '47. He pranced about us for several moments, took one leap into the air, clicked his heels twice, and evaporated before our eyes, We stood in complete wonderment, when no sooner had he disappeared than giant thunder clouds rose over the hill. We debated for a moment, but even though the storm grew in ferocity, curiosity won out, and we resigned ourselves to the climb. We walked silently through the rising storm, heads bowed low against the wind. Boulders of black atmosphere tumbled across the fields, casting shadows on our paths, and binding trees to the quivering earth. Far below us the lake lay tossing against its banks as if trying to escape what seemed like the end of the world. Above our heads the sky began to take on purple streaks which trickled across its spaciousness and became lost in the blackness of that un- forgettable afternoon. Lightning ripped the sky, and the sight of its bolt struck us as did the words of our little elhn companionfthe fate of '-47 'that's why we were on that hill eand now we had reached its crest. We waited, but not for long, be- cause from the sky, coming closer every minute, was an ebony bolt of atomic at- mosphere. We stared hard trying to discern what was happening in its center. Surely we must be seeing things, it couldn't possibly be Carvel Hidlay still in Vassar, thumbing tentatively through Harrison's Revised Dictionary which contains some words that Great-great-Uncle Noah had forgotten. In the corner of that dismal library, we saw Dotty Petrecca standing menacingly over her with a whip. :X grim sight indeed, but colleges have no more use for monkey business. :X new gust of wind whisked by with a definite salty tang, as we watched its vapors reveal Ann Lowry, captain of the Walloping Window Blind sailing to Pago-Pago to pick up Yiolet Albrecht, who had been lost on a desert island for live years. Among the hearty crew was Marcia Rice, who seemed particularly well suited for her post in the crow's nest because of her monotone voice which shouted crowflike from the topsails, Land-lrlOl The eager crew was greeted on the dock 104 fl io . 13. . M if l, '-ws I ,M . 1 0 N I IN, -fir A b V F' -

Page 15 text:

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Page 17 text:

E E by the exotic dancing of Yalerie Lang, who we suspect was just advertising for the Peggy Quail' Novelty Company, in her ultra-grass skirt. We should have liked In see more of those adventurers, but the cloud dis.tppe.u'ed and was followed by another which took us back to America, yy here we learned more of the class's accomplish- ments. One of the current works of Suzanne Snaith, Poet Laureate ot Pittsburgh, we find comparable only to the life she led at Knox, and we quote the opening lilies of her most important work V Love is just a burning ember, but not for you unless you're slenderf Another artist, Anita Taylor. is successor to Petty. She not only draws crowds, but is her own model in a mirrored studio designed by Nlargie Weeks, which strangely enough opens upon .1 glass-brick swimming pool, where Margie practices her daily diving feats, It looks as if the Daisy Club has gone to seed! Ham and Hack are chorewomen at Dartmouth, and 'lackie Webster was only runner-up in the 'bliss Andover Contest. Pat Cole, Phyllis Novotny, Nancie Stewart, 'lean Thursby, Betty Appel, and .Ioey llollilfe were shown at the weekly meeting ofthe Association for Perpetual Adoration of Westchester County. The members are p.u'ticularly ioyous, for through the dipf loinatic endeavors of Betty Appel, they have secured the '4Chateau as the site ol' a sub-sub-committee of the United Nations. Empty pulls floated by until one with a decided aroma of dog-food suspended itself before us. ln it we saw Nancy Gray, exhibiting a unique species ot canine, which she is training for an equally unique cause one that will raise dog-hood to its zenith. Yes, Natty Bumpo has done it again her dogs are running elevators. The lilting strains of a Samba took us to the epclusive Rio Room, owned and operated by Senorita Bobby Blewer. On the piano, the internationally renowned Sue Carter was playing the accompaniment for those rhythmic artists, Lydia johnson, Tobye Cramer, Nanson De Silva, and Peggy Pindar, who enchanted their audience with their rendition of what too much colliee has done to Brazil. As this cloud disappeared, we anxiously awaited the arrival of the next one, which revealed a scene in Lexington, Kentucky, where Dawn Burt was running her horse Caterpillar, the great-great-grandson of Hfvlan O' War, in the Kentucky Derby, Her jockey was none other than Colonel Phyllis Strauss, who after her ex- ertion was seen relaxing on her plantation sipping a mint-iulep in true Southern fashion. Further West, the cloud disclosed the metropolis of South Bend, where Kathy Keller and Beth Wadsworth were opertating a restaurant and grill, appropriately called The Bender, which caters exclusively to Notre Dame. Although it was Nliss lieller's vibrant personality which attracted the customers, it was the excellent 105 529 If s ' INA1 ' Ziff T .I 5, s ,. l X WZ I I ,JCC lil

Suggestions in the Knox School - Rose Leaves Yearbook (Nissequogue, NY) collection:

Knox School - Rose Leaves Yearbook (Nissequogue, NY) online collection, 1942 Edition, Page 1

1942

Knox School - Rose Leaves Yearbook (Nissequogue, NY) online collection, 1946 Edition, Page 1

1946

Knox School - Rose Leaves Yearbook (Nissequogue, NY) online collection, 1954 Edition, Page 1

1954

Knox School - Rose Leaves Yearbook (Nissequogue, NY) online collection, 1959 Edition, Page 1

1959

Knox School - Rose Leaves Yearbook (Nissequogue, NY) online collection, 1947 Edition, Page 115

1947, pg 115

Knox School - Rose Leaves Yearbook (Nissequogue, NY) online collection, 1947 Edition, Page 57

1947, pg 57


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