Lancaster High School - Mirage Yearbook (Lancaster, OH)

Page 28 text:

CLASS WILL We, the Senior Class of Lancaster High School, Class of 1951, realizing that our days are numbered and that we shall soon take leave of the scene of events in this sanitarium for the treatment of ignor- ance, do hereby make, publish, and de- clare this to be our last will and testament. ARTICLE I—To the class of 1975 we leave all our hopes and visions of escala- tors and elevators. ARTICLE II—To the faculty we be- queath our sincerest thanks and appre- ciation for their patient understanding and the assistance they have given us in our trials and tribulations in the struggle with the finer points of education. ARTICLE III—To the juniors we leave the supreme honor of being seniors, with all the authority, respect and dignity that go with the title. ARTICLE IV—To the sophomores we leave the glamour that goes with being upperclassmen. ARTICLE V—To the freshmen we be- queath the feeling of exultation that comes from no longer being the scum” about our halls of learning. ARTICLE VI—To the incoming class of '55 we bequeath a cradle and hope that they will be happy in their infancy. ARTICLE VII—To the janitors we be- queath a razor blade and some sand- paper for the purpose of removing the chewing gum and the airplanes drawn on the desks in Mr. Payne’s room. ARTICLE VIII—And now we come to the most important bequests of all—those treasures which are given by the outstand- ing members of our class. I, Jack Behrens, leave my terrific jazz drumming to anyone foolish enough to want it. I, Marty Griffith, leave my vivacious personality to Sue Alfred. I, Allan Vlerebome, bequeath my radio show to Suzanne Spangler. I, Pete Arent, bequeath my football uniform to any three players who can fill it comfortably. I, Phil Gehres, to Dick Pifer, my jeep. I, Carol Ochs, to Jo Ann Waugh, my talent for making Mr. McIntyre turn around and look at the violin section in amazement. I, John Rauch, leave my abundance of brains to Sam Smith. We, Pat Carnes and Paula Clump, bequeath our ever-ready smiles to Jo Ann Helser and Mary Kay McLain. I, Kenny Nihiser, to Bob Blackstone, my ability to sleep soundly while appear- ing wide awake. I, John Kistler, leave my leadership in all scholastic activities to Charles El- linger. I, Phyllis Lowry, to Lorna Nixon, my fiery red hair. I, Jim Waugh, leave my ability to slay ’em at a glance to John Oster- hage. I, Bonnie Kitsmiller, to Vivian Stebel- ton, my cheerleading ability. I, Jim Miller, bequeath my height to Jim Wolfinger. We, the Senior Class of '51, to all succeeding classes, the happy days they will spend as students of L. H. S. We hereby name Miss Griffith sole executrix of this, our last will and testa- ment. In testimony whereof, we hereunto set our hand and seal this first day of June in the year of our Lord, one thousand nine hundred and fifty-one. (Signed) Class of 1951 Tom Smith Page Twenly-four

Page 27 text:

PROPHECY ie Beatty, Oby Lue Bixby, Barbara Bren- stuhl, Joyce F. Clark, Marlene George, Barbara Hudson, Phil Gehres, Eugene Combs, Dick Clark, Ernest Hedges, Ralph Hendrickson, and Dick Huffine. The girls are practicing up on the latest waltzes and the boys are practicing the two-step. They have told me they are better than the Rockettes. Our choir had an important part to play, too. It consisted of Jean Anderson, Joan Arledge, Betty Drumm, Joan Raines, Jean Neiser, Jane Blake, Tom Brenstuhl, Bruce Haning, Allan Vlerebome, Jim Nigh, Don Nichols, and Bernard Mum- ford. They sang Music by the Angels,” written especially for them by Vonda Beavers. The organist was Bertha Boggs. Joan Miller, Leah Moore, and Alice Poling were selling the tickets. Delores Poling and Jayne Probasco were taking them. Dorothy Reed was selling popcorn at one side and at the other side June Sesslar was selling Ice-Cold Water. (That really sells like hot cakes down here.) Eloise Reed, Patty Shaver, Florabell Shri- ner, and Betty Snider were the ushers. Carol Ochs was the curtain puller. Mark Benson, Mert Brown, Dick Waugh, and Patricia Reid were selling toasted marshmallows and joking about how we would look sometime. Just before the play started, down the aisles came Tom Kuhn, Kenneth Lytle, Bill Markwood, Francis Mowery, Don Patton, and Bud Peck. They were throwing all kinds of little trinkets, and they were dressed up in clowns' uniforms. After the first act Louise Reid, Marie Spires, Ruth Stein, Ellen Valentine, and Garnet Yantes entertained with a tumbl- ing act. After Act Two Cherie Thrush, Mary M. Thrush, Carolyn Wachter and Carolyn Stevens wrestled. Delbert Shut- tleworth was the referee. Paul Stouder was the timekeeper. They had the referee pinned within three seconds. After Act Three Pat Conklin, Marilyn Watters, and Lora Wittman sang Branded by Nor- ene Appel, Don Compton, and Jo Anne Davis. Well, here come Patty Fisher, Martha Hightower, Evelyn Hoshor, Betty Hommel, and Edna Kemper with a wheel- barrow full of ashes. I will have to sign off to open the gate for them. We keep it locked, you know, for we don't want anyone who doesn't belong here. Be seeing you around—or will I? Until then, Bob Goodman, Gatekeeper Pag® Twenty-three

Page 29 text:

CLASS POEM WE ARE THE YOUTH We hold the future in our hands, We are tomorrow’s strong; Should our hands falter in their trust, Should our feet stumble in the dust Of struggle, Let us distinguish right from wrong. We are the youth the world is seeking, We are tomorrow’s winners; Should our efforts be in vain, Should the knowledge that we gain Prove useless, May the shield of faith grow strong within us. We are the youth to whom men turn, We are tomorrow’s wise; Should our learning be for naught, Should the dreams which we have sought Be shattered, May we know peace of heart and mind. We are the youth to conquer wrong, We are tomorrow’s leaders; Should our eyes grow blind with fear, Should we fail when duty’s near At hand, May we find strength to carry on. But let us not say “should we. We cannot fail, we must prevail O’er right and wrong, The weak and strong. We are the youth to bring the world to light, To bring to reality a future long and bright! —Mary Margaret Thrush Pago Twenty-five