Lancaster High School - Mirage Yearbook (Lancaster, OH)

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CLASS POEM A shining world is balanced in our hands; We feel the pulsing of its crystal tides; We see the greenness of the lovely lands Traced in clear colors on its gleaming sides. If our hands should tremble in their trust. And the bright ball be tumbled from its place. If it should slip and shatter into dust And trickle soundlessly Into infinity. Swirling with the winds of empty space. We, standing empty-handed, would be left With nothing else to dream our dreams upon. Our hope and love alike would be bereft Of the perfected beauty they had spun. We shall not trust our faltering hands to hold A future of such bright fragility. But safely in our hearts the vision hold And it shall be a light Through the storm and night. Till we shall bring it to reality. —Lucy Turnbull

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CLASS WILL We, the Senior Class of 1948, realizing that we shall soon depart from these corridors of know- ledge to take our individual positions in this troub- led world, do hereby leave our outstanding quali- ties and abilities to those we have chosen as wor- thy of them. We sincerely hope that the fortunate receivers will uphold these most highly valued characteristics, so they, too, may leave behind them their most-prized possessions. ARTICLE I. To our everlastingly cherished fac- ulty, we bequeath our deepest gratitude for the patience and the tolerance they have shown in these past four years. ARTICLE II. To the janitors and janitresses, we express our most hearty thanks for the untir- ing effort they have put forth to retain, at all times, the neat appearance of our halls and classrooms. We also appreciate their continual striving to educate us in the importance of clean- liness and well-kept surroundings.. ARTICLE III. To the juniors, we leave the bright arid cheery atmosphere that is created in the civics room. Any bewilderment as to the nature of this sunny environment may be solved by one nonchalant glance at the neckties of Mr. Snedaker. ARTICLE IV. To the sophomores, we bequeath not only the anticipation of becoming upper- classmen, but also the willing spirit to build and strengthen the desirable activities that Lancaster High School has to offer. ARTICLE V. To the freshmen, we bequeath the honored position of lending a helping hand to the “inexpcrienccd,, eighth graders upon their entrance into high school. ARTICLE VI. To the incoming class of '52, we leave the everlasting maze of corridors and the customary new acquaintance with both stu- dents and teachers. We wish you the best of luck in the four years to follow. ARTICLE VII. We of the Senior Class, who are about to be graduated, do hereby make the following bequests: I, Jackie Kerr, to anyone capable of asking them, my impossible questions. I, Mary Jane Bohlander, to Pearleene Keller, my quiet and reserved manner. I, Norma Schisler, to Jane Ann Pursell, my height and physical structure to “tote” the flag. I, Bob Schneider, to Harold Kclch, my photo- graphic ingenuity. We, Evelyn Schilling and Bruce Boyer, to Joyce Lewis and Leon Wolford, our charm at the key- board. I, Nancy Acton, to Cynthia Brincr, my “fiery locks. I, Freddie Await, to Jim “Fat“ Reid, my small stature. I, Carol Zimmerman, to Mary Elizabeth Ran- dolph, my “gleeful giggling. We, the Brown twins, to George Yoder, the managership of the stage. I, Jim Slagle, to Dave Crook, my grace on the dance floor. I, Lucy Turnbull, to anyone with rhyme and rhythm, my poetic skill. I, Johnny Lerch, to Bill Hermann, my dynamic personality within so small a structure. We, the athletic girls and boys of the senior class, to those who will succeed us in the field, our good sportsmanship. I, Dick Braddock, to Bill Arledgc, my blond, curly hair. I, Warren Martin, to Bill Thomas, my title of “hot lips. I, Jackie Goodwin, to anyone worthy, my newly discovered dramatic ability. We, Eleanor Bailey and Carl Halsey, to Donna Hunter and Carol Brown, our artistic touch. I, John Towt, to Tyge Irskens, my scientific knowledge. « I, Jim Wcsthovcn, to Ronnie Pugh, my “reet clothes. ARTICLE VIII. We, the Class of 1948, be- queath to every student who enters Lancaster High School, the proud feeling that is created on being enrolled in the best high school ever. It is our desire that each class to be graduated from these halls of learning will feel as we do— fortunate to have attended such a high-rank- ing school. ARTICLE IX. Because of the valuable treas- ures being disposed of, we do hereby name Miss Griffith and Mr. Snedaker executors of this our last Will and Testament. In witness whereof, we have hereunto set our hand and seal this third day of June in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and forty- eight. (Signed) Class of 1948 Marian Smith, Chairman Jo Ann Wcsthoven Sam DeMerell

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CLASS PROPHECY Athens (not University) State Asylum May 1958 SCENE: Office of a famous psychiatrist who, having delved into the minds of two patients, pre- sented their case histories to the hoard who dc- cided that they had the incurable disease “night' mareosis A member of the board, Dick Camp- bell, happened to recognize to names of the two helpless beings. What! No, it can't be—not Nancy Aten and Gcri Jewell! No—he was not mistaken. They arc the inmates of the so-called “Nuthouse. But how did all this happen? So, wanting to find what circumstances led to their insanity (poor souls), in his investigation he came across some old papers which gave the needed information. This is how it all began. It was two years ago in the big city of Detroit, in the studio of Radio Commercial Song, Inc., managed by Gcri Jewell when she received an invitation—via atomgram— to the wedding of two old classmates. Having made certain that she wasn't otherwise engaged, she called Nancy Aten who was a radio script writer for the program called “You Lose If You're Smart. Because they wanted to make definite ar- rangements for their future trip, they decided to dine together. At seven-thirty sharp they met at the Deeshwa- terc Cafe, owned by Helen Ruth Boyer and Vir- ginia Simons. They were assisted by James Snokc and Dan Mattox. While eating bitter-sweet sauer- kraut with pickles and cheese, they made plans to take the ten o'clock S.A.S. (safe and sound) rocket ship. In their casual conversation they discovered that Don Gillulcy and Herb Schumacher were both third vice-presidents of the I. M. Pickled Co. Having some extra time, they went to the Good- win (Jackie) theatre. The cashier was Howard Ball. Not finding any seats, they were about to give up when the usher, Doris White, by no less than a miracle, located a couple of vacant scats. En route to their seats, they stumbled over the feet of Jack Hauser who was enjoying the success of his best seller, called “Knights of Sherman” or “Kids of Satan. The movie was called “Spring Is Here,” adapted from its sequel “If Winter Come .” It was produced by Kenny McLaughlin and starred the matinee idol of the bobby sox parade, Bruce Boyer. Playing opposite him was Norma Lee Fries- ncr. After the last torrid—not horrid—scene, a stage show was given as a special act. At first glance, it looked like a group of ordinary chorus girls dressed in the usual costumes. But looking again at their bony, knock-kneed legs, they were shocked to sec that what seemed to be chorus girls were really boys. Hurriedly they looked at their programs and found that those girls participating in the Swan Ballet included Sam DeMcrell, Jim Johnston, Bill Eyman, Jim Crook, Ed Young, and Jack Amcndt. After a good night's sleep, they concluded that it must have been a dream. Gcri quickly packed, rushed down to the lobby where she was stopped by the manager, Lee Reid, who checked to sec whether she had taken any hotel souvenirs. She hailed an Ixat taxi, driven by Lowell DcLong, who was the boy that always had the answer to the question: What is the shortest distance between two points? On her way she picked up Nancy and ?hcy rushed on to the airport. They were going 200 m.p.h. when a policeman, whom they recog- nized as Bcrnadinc Griffith', overtook them. They told her they were going to a wedding, not a fire. She then provided a police escort composed of Joan Boystcl, Don Heft, Tom Gill, Jerry Morgan, and Martha Jo Nichols. Running for the rocket ship, they bumped into Joan Herrold who was an F.B.I. agent trying to travel incognito. The stewardess, Jim Wcsthovcn, was just closing the door when he saw them run- ning toward the plane and he helped them aboard. As they were leaving terra firma, the co-pilot, El- eanor Clements, came back to sec that everyone was comfortable. They had barely relaxed when the pilot, whose voice they recognized as Ted Cole- man's, informed them of the landing. They landed at Port Lancaster which is run by Jo Ann Wcst- hoven, assisted by Marijean Bruney. They felt they needed a cup of coffee after that long trip— one minute—terrible, isn't it? Jim Slagle served them delicious electrocuted dogs with their drink. Their baggage was grabbed by Joan Erickson who was making a small fortune from the tips. The