Last Will and Testament I, FRANK BARNARD, will my Chevy to anyone who likes to roll sideways down a hill rather then to coast down. I, PHYLLIS BIRKY, will my height to Ruby Taylor. I, MURIEL DOWD, will my job of selling candy at the games to anyone who doen’t mind arguing with the visiting fans. I, NANCY FRENCH, will the job of Kostang Co-editor to anyone who wants a lot of work and fun. I, HAROLD FRITZ, will my ability to get on the agriculture judging teams to anyone who likes Purdue. I. DON GINGERICH, will my Dodge to anyone who owns an oil well. I, MILDRED HIBBS, will my quietness to Ruth DeWitt. I, DORIS KNEIFEL, will my job as G. A. A. President to anyone who can talk louder than the G. A. A. members. I, MARGIE LUTHI, will my job as coke seller to anyone who doesn’t mind having their shoes full of coke. I, SAM MARTIN, will my Pontiac to anyone who can afford to keep it running. I» SYLVIA NAGAITIS, will my ability to keep my books balanced to the Kouts State Bank. I, PAUL NEWSOM, will my ability to fly to anyone who is tired of living. I, ALGOT, OLSON, will nothing as I’ll need everything I have to start farm- ing. I, DON PETERS, will my curly hair to Bill Salzer. I, JOANNE RAILING, will my ability to drive to anyone who doesn’t mind ending up in the ditch. I, GORDON REINHERTZ, will my ability to be a good Democrat to Norman Schnekenburger. I, RONNIE SNOW, will my physique to Gene Nuest. I, LOLA SUTTER, will my three years of cheerleading and my diamond to Susie Mansfield. I, VERNON YOUNG, will my ability to play pool to anyone who is saving plenty of dimes. We, the Senior Class of 53, will to the Junior class our musical ability, our leadership ability, our agriculture judging ability, our artistic ability, and our abil- ity to keep out of trouble. We, the Senior Class of 53, will to the Sophomore Class, all the books we used as Juniors if they’re in using condition. We, the Senior Class of 53, will to the Freshman class, all of our Psychology notes for future reference, We, the Senior Class of 53, will to the 7th and 8th grade, anything and every- thing left in our lockers after we leave.
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Prophecy Of The Class Of ‘53 The sky is dark, overcast and foreboding as my assistant and pilot, Paul Newsom, and I sit in our rocket ship (designed by the famous rocket designer, Lola Sutter) awaiting clearance from the tower. Our mechanic and handyman, Ronnie Snow, is bustling around making a last minute check before we blast-off to Mars. There we have decided to visit one of our dear old classmates, Mildred Hibbs, who now owns a string of restaurants across the various planets. We finally get the signal and we start counting the seconds, 5, 4, 3y 2, 1, and we’re off. As we leave the earth’s gravi- tational pull and float swiftly through space, we decide to journey on to Jupiter to see another buddy, Gordon Reinhertz. Gordie, after the Senior play, became so en- grossed in producing that he started a new “Starway” (similar to our Broadway) on Jupiter. At last our destination comes into sight on the view-o-scope and we prepare to land. We hear voices crackle over our spacephones. Hmmmmmmm? It surely sounds familiar. I know!!!! Muriel Dowd!!!! We inform her that we’re her old classmates and inquire how she ever got to be employed in the tower. After explaining that she is now married and has taken this part-time job in order to support her loafing husband, Muriel agrees to meet all of us later at Mildred’s for dinner. We land, collect our things, and step out onto the “terra firma” of Mars, where another familiar face greets us. Frank Barnard steps forward to take our luggage and informs us that he is using this means to get enough money ahead to move on to Jupiter. He says that he has seen all of the U. S. and he is now sight-seeing on the planets. We hail a cab, or, as it is now called, a jet car, and proceed on to Mildred’s. We happen to glance into the rear-view mirror and meet the gaze of Sam Martin, who tells us that the jet car he’s now driving runs a little better than his old Pontiac, and that it’s a lot faster too. We come to a stop, pay our fare, and ask Sam if he won’t join us for dinner. He agrees and we trail into the restaurant. Mildred greets us and tells us to sit down. Her headwaiter and manager, Harold Fritz, comes over to take our orders. After being co-editor of our yearbook, Harold felt he could be a good manager so Mildred hired him to help her. Our orders are taken and we hear a voice with a faint Swedish accent repeat them. We ask who the cook is and we are informed that Algot Olson decided to take Home Economics instead of Agriculture when he got to Purdue. His Swedish dishes are famous throughout space. In a few minutes we are joined by Muriel, Sam, and Frank. After we have finished eating and are enjoying a second cup of coffee, we discuss old times and all the mischief we used to get into at old K.H.S. After good-byes are exchanged, we find a suitable hotel and check in for
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