Lowell High School - Lowellian Yearbook (Lowell, IN)

Page 19 text:

Senior History People in general think that class histories are all alike, and that to read one is to know them all. But is it true? If cne becomes acquainted with the members of a graduating class and is familiar with the little things which go to make up individualities, one becomes certain that all classes are not alike, and that class histories therefore widely differ. Of course, every class believes, and tries to make others believe that they are the most talented, industrious, and thoroughly alive class that has ever existed. 1915 begs no exception to the rule. Just four years ago (not four score and seven) our des¬ tiny brought forth into Lowell High School a rew set of greenhorns, used to their own sweet liberties, and dedicated to the proposition that all classmen are created free and equal, Freshmen not excluded. Since then we have engaged in a great mental struggle, testing whether that class or any class so conceived and so dedicated, can endure four years of school vicissitudes, and come off victorious as Senio v s. Thirty-nine began their High School career in 1911, and after encount¬ ering many new branches so arduous to youthful minds, a large majority, were left to enroll as Sophomores. It takes almost a year to get familiar with the school customs, and be ready to take the initiative. So it was in our second year we began to take an active part in general functions and to invent methods by which to evade quadratics, surds and Ceasar, but still become Juniors. When we were Sophomores one of our number, Faith Viant, won first place in the Lake County Oratorical contest. It was as Juniors that it began to be evident that our class contained as many live wires as the next one. Several of our members held prominent places in all school organiza¬ tions. Our boys were “stars” in the Basket Ball teams. A number of the class were exempt from the finals and extend¬ ed their sincere condolences to their faithful comrades toil¬ ing over the examinations which were to land them over the border into the pleasant pastures of Seniordom. We are now on the last lap, almost ready to leave the cares and joys of a High School that has safely guided our footsteps through diverse and devious paths. This is no doubt the busiest year of the four since there are so many affairs inherent in graduation besides the increase of necessary work- Cur deportment in Physics laboratory is said to be almost as bad as when we were taking Freshmen drawing or in Miss McLean’s assembly. The first “E. B.” team this year is 3-5 Senior and a bet¬ ter team is hard to find. As we now separate to continue making histories for our selves, surely no one will try to be anything but worthy of the precedents set by his comrades or to be other than an honor to the Class of 1915. Lucile Dorris, ’15.

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JOE LITTLE HENRY POPPE “A good old scout to say the least.” “All great men are dying and I don’t feel well myself.” LUCILLE DORRIS “Just the airiest, fairest slip of a thing!” GLEN PLETCHER “If she laugh—it is the trill Of the wayward whippoorwill.”

Page 20 text:

In When I was in “Bosting” in 1920 with a company of Ly¬ ceum entertainers we were requested to give a few numbers at the World’s Exposition which was being held there at the time. While waiting for the afternoon’s performance I visited the Indiana building in which I met Fay Hoshaw, celebrated artist and designer of the building. Fay led me to the liter¬ ary department and there I found the article on “The Soul of a Woman” by the great journalist. Fern Hayden was ex¬ hibited as first prize. Henry Poppe was also enlisted in the hall of fame as “0. Henry” the second. With the opening of the programme I observed a pro¬ cession of fine saddle horses headed by the owner Joe Little on the winner, parading around the track but it was soon cleared to give the Athletes room for their feats, especially the runners. My attention was diverted by a handsome man who had joined our party and whom I recognized as Hal Weaver, now a wealthy man who had made his fortune in em¬ balming. When I again directed my attention to the track it cvas to give myself up to the excitement and eagerness with which the crowd was watching the swiftness and gracefulness of the runners. The prominent one who led the race and was the object of the crowd’s cheers seemed strangely familiar to me and as they neared the grandstand I was delighted to see in him, one of my old schoolmates, George Hayden. 3 en¬ thusiastically lent my cheers to the crowds as he reached the goal an arms length ahead of any one else. On going to perform my part of the programme I was informed that my accompanist had been taken very suddenly ill, but that a substitute was being sent in her place. When she appeared I was very much surprised to find that she was Miss Neva Tanner. While giving one of my selections I rec¬ ognized in my audience Miss Garnette Foster seated with about twenty-five children among whom she had been doing settlement work and a very aristocratic looking lady whom I knew as Lila Schmal. I was told later that she was a great benefactress, giving large sums of money to further the work of Garnette. On seeing so many of my friends I determined we should all meet in the evening and have a class reunion. We joined our party again before the races and were in¬ formed that Ed Minninger without doubt would be the win¬ ner, due to his skill as a driver and to the car he was driving which was a “Lambert” manufactured by Floyd Lambert, judge of the supreme court. Also I heard that Cecil Minnin¬ ger was entering the race since the Basket Ball season in New York was over. Cecil had established a world wide rec¬ ord as a Basket Ball star in that city. During the races a California driver was seriously hurt and taken to a hospital. While inquiring as to his welfare we met Lucile Dorris, a Red Cross nurse that had at one time been presented with medals by the kings of Europe for her noble work in the “War of 1915.” That evening Mr. Weaver announced his engagement and as a treat took us all to see “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” during which Ed fell in love with “Little Eva.” —Glen Pletclier, ’15.