Linden High School - Bulldog Yearbook (Linden, IN)

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'PxofiAecy One cold winter evening as the wind and snow beat against the side of my cottage I gazed into the dancing fire and there seemed to appear the familiar faces of the gang at Linden High School who graduated in 1956. There appeared the face of Fred White singing the part of Romeo in the magnificent opera of Romeo and Juliet. When the curtain went down on the second act, whom did we see shouting orders for the next act? Nobody, but our own Allen Waltz. I later dis- covered Allen was happily married to the lovely Sharon Cleveland. They owned two goldfish, thirteen cats, a Pekingese, and lived in a trailer with doors so low Sharon cracked her head every time she entered. Then to my vision came the image of Russell Grenard in a coal mine with the sweat up on his brow, loading sixteen tons of coal each day. The picture of a chemistry lab. then came to view and there stood Carl Schaeffer looking at an assortment of chemicals, wondering just what chemical to use next in an experiment before his snickering class. I closed my weary eyes a moment to rest. When I opened them a wondrous sight greeted me. There was Mary Sue Smith on the beach at Miami, Florida, where she was working for a travel agency. I noticed Mary Sue talking to a vivacious blonde. I could not quite identify the striking person. As my eyes peered more earnestly into the leaping fire, I saw the face of Sandy Todd. As the wind caught their voices, I heard Sandy say she found five dollars combing the beach that morning. Into the face of the fire, next, came the map of the world. My eyes then went to the southern part of Texas and on the wide open ranges. I saw a covered wagon with a woman holding a child in her arms. Walking behind the wagon, I saw a tall, lanky, bow-legged cowboy. In his hand was a Geiger counter. I was squinting for the Texas sun was in my eyes and I could not see who the people were. The sun suddenly went behind a cloud and I saw that it was Jim Clements and his lovely wife Dorothy, and Jim, Jr. They were prospecting for uranium. While my eyes were on the southern part of the continent, I saw the top of tall oil wells silhouetted against the purple horizon. As I came closer, I saw a man with oil smudges all over his face. From the dusk of the evening came a woman with dark hair flowing in the evening breeze. I knew her to be Barbara Stewart, Bill Vail's new bride.

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When we became sophomores, we proudly received our class sweaters which we had looked forward to for years. We earned money by having paper drives. In the later part of this year Etta Linedecker joined us but left the end of our junior year. Still marching on, we became jolly juniors with enthusiasm over getting our class rings, putting on our play, selling magazines, and concessions. Our junior year was a thrilling year for we sold the highest record on magazines. Our junior play, which was a hit, brought a full house. We had suddenly turned into a mad bunch of hillbillies doing Hillbilly Weddin'. We honored the class of '55 at a recep- tion held at Turkey Run Inn. We had be- come very anxious and inquisitive as to what it would be like to be a senior, but we knew if it were to be anything like our junior year it would be wonderful. Hillbilly Weddin”' Reception' At last the year had arrived for us to wear the traditional senior cords and to sit in the senior row. Sharon Cleveland and Fred White joined us from Bowers. We sold Christmas cards to make money for our trip. The senior boys and girls that had been in athletics and in band received their award jackets. On April 13th we presented You Can’t Take It with You. ” We feel that if the next twelve years are as happy and successful as the past twelve have been, we will have success in life. REMEMBER CLASS OF 1956, The Motto -- Forward Ever, Backward Never.

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They had moved to the South where Barbara had established a Beauty School and Bill had to drill more oil wells each day to pay for this fabulous school. In California -- Hollywood to be exact -- I saw Dick Hunsicker sitting on top of a flag pole at Hollywood and Vine eating rhubarb. He obviously hadn't been such a success on the screen so he was taking up flag-pole sitting. Suddenly I was jerked back to Indiana. I heard a male voice singing loudly Mule Train, I saw Oliver Lambuth piloting a Ford tractor around a one-hundred acre field. Coming to meet him was Mary with a cool drink — 7-Up. After drinking his 7-Up, Oliver became so intoxicated he lost control of his tractor and guess where it went — right into Ramona Eutsler's flower garden where her twelve kids were running around playing with their parents' race horses. The tractor ran into the fence — but instead of suing Oliver, Ramona made him drink every bit of his 7-Up, right down to the last drop. Steve Storms was a sophomore at Yale University majoring in math. He planned to come back to L. H. S. and replace Mr. Lyon who had retired — I couldn't believe it either. As the flame jumped high, an old school house in Georgia appeared with patched windows, an old stove in the corner, maps, books. Behind the desk I saw Norma Whitlow earnestly teach- ing the little black folks their ABC's. I wondered what Freda Barton was doing to make history. There she was giving a speech before a mass of people in Washington. Why, she had just announced she was going to be the first woman to run for the presidency of the United States! While I was dealing with big shots in Washington, I saw Velma Sue Martin. She had just been elected the new president of the National Society for Lonely Hearts. Moving on down to Skunk Hollow in the hills, I saw Carl Snyder. He was dog-catcher. Justice of the Peace, sheriff, mayor, and with his wife Shirley, owned the post office and general store. I saw a tall grain elevator in the next town of Podank Center. There were dozens of children running around. This was the humble home of Delores Guinn and need we say whom? I saw a weary cowpoke wind his weary way around a huge boulder and suddenly his hat was blown into the air about six inches. From behind a tree popped Pat Miller with a smoking gun. She had thought he was a revenuer. I stared into the fire and saw the face of the Senior sponsor, Mr. Hill. He was now presi- dent of Wellesley College and had a brilliant career ahead of him. I was, oh so tired, with having seen so much of my beloved classmates. I closed my eyes and drifted into a deep sleep while the smoldering fire slowly died and faded into oblivion.