Lake Stevens High School - Pilchuck Yearbook (Lake Stevens, WA)

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By this time we had arrived at the newspaper office. As we opened the door an impressive sight met our eyes. People were hurrying here and there, noise every- where, but over the confusion rose a voice that could never be mistaken for anyone else than Bob Lund. It turned out that he was the Sports Editor of the renowned tabloid. A door at the far end of the room attracted my attention. As I moved toward it I saw marching across the glass in big bold letters the words—“Editor—Mern Hegge—Private . I bethought myself to go in and chew the fat with the old boy, but as I raised my hand to knock, the door burst open and out ran Iva Rider with the esteemed editor close on her heels. I stuck my foot out and caught Mr. Hegge on the up beat. As he looked a trifle dangerous to be near after that spill, I thought it best that I move on. In short, I took a powder. Irene inserted her ad and we ventured out into the city streets once more. As we passed the corner drugstore we decided we would like to quench our thirst with a coke or something. As we waited for some service, my companion scared me out of nearly a year's growth by shouting “LOOK” and thrusting a magazine under my nose. There on the cover was a picture of Cleon Plumley. Underneath it said “For more information turn to page 16”. We did, you may be sure. There was a long account of Cleon, stating that he was making his debut the 20th of next month and would go on tour immediately after so that everyone in the United States would have the opportunity to hear Cleon Plumley and his “Golden Strings . My companion and I decided we would like to go cut that night, and around 7:30 we started making the rounds to see what was cookin’. We dropped in at the Coconut Grove of this city. There on the platform was Betty Lou Kinney dishing out the boogie woogie as only she can dish it. We gathered by eavesdropping here and there that the music was by Betty Lou and her P-39’s. She called them that because they were a slick and smooth band with lots of soup. Betty Swanson was in her band too, pushing a mean bow across a defenseless cello. They were pretty smooth all right and I was about to fall asleep on my partner's shoulder when a voice sounding oddly like Berenice Withrow's was lifted in song. We decided to push on and see what else was doing. We walked sedately out of range of the music and up onto the sidewalk again. Across the street was the Civic Hall. There a gigantic sign announced that Frances Kleisath and her “March- ing Maids of which Beatrice Bcrgwall was the star performer, had found it possible to play this city after all, and would appear the following Saturday. I made a mental note of the coming performance and, in my usual scatter-brained way, started to step cut into the street without looking when a horn blared at me. I jumped out of the way just in time as a light blue convertible careened past me. I looked after the now quickly disappearing auto to see what the driver looked like and was shocked to see it was piloted by Marcia Muzzall. With her, and proudly waving a college diploma, was Mariece Solberg. Gee, she made it through college after all!

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The stewardess opened the door so that the passengers could file out. Jim told me the stewardess on this liner was Marilyn Prentice. I moved closer to get a better look. Sure enough, it was. She was talking to someone, and out of idle curiosity I glanced at her. Again I was surprised! It was Kathleen Taro. I hurried over to the gate so that I could stop Kathleen as she went through. She told me she had finally achieved her goal and was employed as a chemist at one of the DuPont fac- tories, and that she had written and published several books. Also on the same plane was the great young football coach of Notre Dame, Harold, better known as Hap” Anderson. We talked for a while, and I found out that Alta Redman was one of the yell leaders at Northwestern and was the team's mascot. Notre Dame had a game scheduled with Northwestern for the fol- lowing week. I had the impulse to ask whether it was the game or Sunny that caused that gleam in his eye, but I squelched the desire hurriedly. Just then the pilot came toward me. I groped for my glasses so I could be sure of what I saw. Yes, it was Bill Kleisath! I was so busy gaping at the silver wings on his shoulder that I didn’t see the co-pilot walking toward our little group until Jim jabbed me in the ribs. Still somewhat dazed by the gleam of Kleisath's wings, I turned my head and saw Jim’s other half, Jack. Gee, it was really true—Jack Mosman, co-pilot! Boy, was the class of '43 ever doing itself proud! We ambled over to the administration building. A tall blonde girl was talking to a group of people trying to persuade them that Florida was better than Michigan to travel to because it was farther away. Ida Hays. I said hello and she smiled and pointed to a dark haired girl who was busy typing something that looked terribly familiar. The girl sitting looked up as she reached for a little bottle sitting beside her typewriter. I was delighted to see that it was Irene Wahl. Then I laughed for, after pushing my glasses up on my nose where I could see through them, I saw the familiar looking object she was typing was a stencil and the little bottle turned out to be the ever present correction fluid. Poor Irene! Even out of school she was still cutting stencils. It was almost her quitting time so I waited for her and we walked down town to the leading newspaper office. She had lost a stylus and wanted to insert an ad for it in the lost and found column. She told me all the latest news as we were sauntering along. Frances Erickson was the editor of “Glamour” magazine and was doing very well for herself. Calvin Prentice finally gave up his half of the noble Model A to his brother and had been persuaded by that super-salesman. Bob Nourse, to buy a slightly used Jeep. Don Gilbert had a radio master-mind quiz program on station LSHS on which Clyde Peterson was one of the master-minds. That just goes to show you never know how people are going to turn out. Loyal Watkins was the receptionist and private secretary to Bob Baber who happened to be president of the station. Ray Anderson had decided he wanted to inflict the misery he went through on someone else, so he was attending the University of Washington Dental School.

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A taxi slid to a stop at the curb; the door opened and out stepped Charlotte McLennan. Her hair was fixed as I had always known it, and it had made her famous. She was in Hollywood now and after a long hard struggle she was one of ten top stars. I watched her go by and saw that she was going to the premier performance of “Hot Tamalie” starring the love of the nation, Kathleen Kirby. My companion and I decided we would like to see that so we ventured in. We stood at the entrance and looked around to see if we could recognize anyone. We crawled over several people and finally I dropped into the seat beside Betty Cooper. We exchanged talk, and during the course of the evening I learned that she was very happy and that she and her hubby had moved into a cute little house in the city. I also learned that Eva Newman was P. E. instructor at the largest high school in the dty and certainly liked her job. I asked her if she knew what Nadine Schuster was doing now and she said that Nadine had a job with the Chrysler Corporation driving new cars so that they would be broken in by the time the customers received them. Sounded interesting to me. She said lone Sawyer was a model at Macy’s in New York City. Pretty good. Alyce Tastad was a demonstrator for Coty's cosmetics and traveled all over and was able to see a lot of country. I was also surprised to hear that Betty Logstrom was the private secretary for Cecil B. De Mille. As the evening was thinning out into dawn, and I was getting terribly tired, I told my companion to take me home. In the cab, we turned the radio on and got the rebroadcast of “The Woman’s Angle” by Dorothy McDaniel. So Dorothy was a woman commentator! She announced that Barbara Tedford was doing a wonderful job spreading good will all over South America. I remembered Barbara had a mar- velous knowledge of Latin, Spanish, and other languages. After Dorothy had signed off for the night, a man announced that an exclusive dress shop was opening in the near future, and for the women of the city to be sure and watch for the date. It was to be under the sole management of Eunice Pruehs. When I finally flopped into bed, I thought over all I had seen that day, and I had to admit as you will have to admit, that the Senior Class of 1943 turned out much better than anyone expected.