Mayville Central High School - Pacemaker Yearbook (Mayville, NY)

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1944 THE PACEMAKER present Miss Naomi Galloway, star of Metropolitan Opera, who made her debut in 1948. Miss Galloway, supported by the New York Philharmonic Orchestra, will sing 'Mairzy Doats.' My mind goes back once more to '44, when this was the song of the day. I am quickly snatched to the present, however, for Miss Holbrook is rising to introduce the handsome gentleman on her left. Class of '44 and alumni, I now pre- sent our speaker of the evening, who is the presidential candidate on the Republican ticket, Mr. Donald Thomas. How do you do, ladies and gentlemen? I do as the Republicans want me to. Everyone is laughing and-why he's sitting down! Oh, I see. Here comes food! Our hostess is still standing, I am sure you will all be interested to hear that we have messages from four of our esteemed classmates who could not be with us on this delightful occasion. First, from Mrs. Violet Meadows McTnvish, wife of Rev. Archibald McTavish. She sends an interesting letter about their work as missionaries in French West Africa. Also, I have a letter from Mr. Lawrence Scriven, who is ir1 the far North. He is engineering the building of a huge bridge joining Alaska and Russia. There are also two telegramsg one from Miss Marion Scriven, of Washington, D. C., which reads, 'Sorry, unable to attend banquet-stop-President Roosevelt worried about seventh term-stop-Thomas tough opposition-stop-Greetings to all-stop. Marion Scriven, private secretary to President Roosevelt' Our other telegram is from Bob Hall, the famous cartoonist of the New York Sun. He says, 'Me no can make-stop-Some other time-stop-Dot-dot-dotdash-stop-I mean dash-stop-Regards to all-stop. Bob.' The letters I will pass around for you to read. I'd like to introduce to you now, Mr. Ralph Stanford, our eminent dairymen, whose outstanding patriotism, established in '44, 'Patriotic Farm' and later led him to the cross breeding which developed the famous of Stanford Red, White and Blue Cows. Another son of the soil also present is Mr. Arthur Parment, who owns and manages 'Mystery Ranchf The unknown 'phantom lady' who is said to be mistress at 'Mystery Ranch' was again unable to come out in the open. We all regret this for as yet no one of us has ever met the girl who even in '44 was very much a part of Mr. Parment's life. There is music and the curtain on the stage is rising again. This time the spot- light is on a dancer clothed in red. She is very graceful, dancing on her toes, tipping, swaying to the music. I whisper to Martha, Who is it? Betty Horne, she replies. She teaches ballet in New York City. As the curtain falls, I see a very familiar face-Ruth Ann Galloway. She is coming toward me, and I feel awed. knowing the marvelous research work she is doing with Juline Kinder at the Mayo Brothers Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. The girls are sitting down, and again I look down the line of faces. The lady in black, blonde hair piled high? She is standing, raising her glass. Of course, toastmistress. I see by the program, she is Mrs. Marilyn Scudder Clute, Dean of Women at Vassar College. Her husband, you know, is in charge of the U. S. Navy fleet. The next? The gentleman looks distinguished, a little on the stout side, small moustache and a three-cornered goatee. Class members, Dr. and Mrs. William Waterman. The lady by his side I notice only long enough to see she is dressed in violet. Then I am conscious of a quick intaking of breath. Everyone is looking at a girl so entrancingly beautiful I wonder if she is real. But listen: Friends, the girl who has been named in Hollywood, 'The Darling of the Screen,' our own lovely Louise Christensen. There is much applause now. The beautiful actress smiles and throws a kiss. All at once a rabbit comes hopping down the center of the tableg a frantic hand reaches forth and misses. A top-hat falls off, and uncovers a frowsy head. You're right, it is none other than our old friend, Charles Kelsey. Butt, a master magician. Miss Holbrook explains he has won world acclaim, not by pulling rabbits out of'hats but ladies out of vest-pockets. Then I recognize Eleanor Nellis, wife of the famous Chautauqua County dairy- man, Allen E. Smith. My mind automatically goes back to History C, and Miss White's patient face as she listens to Dick Sentman revolving about the topic at hand. My thoughts are interruptedg another introduction. Mrs. Lenore Kinder Seaton, wife of the renowned doctorl of phychiatry, whose book on Drum Beats in the Mood she is helping him compi e. 'Why is the whole hall applauding? What to my wondering eyes does appear? A little man in a naval officer's uniform, ablaze with medals, a dazzling blonde on

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THE PACEMAKER 1944 for Uncle Sam in the armed forces, and Mary Slayton exchanged us for a wedding veil and Earl Hall. The first triumph of the year was the Senior play, t'The Sunshine Twinsf' Not to boast at all, but really, we think that was a swell performance! Then there were several class parties, including a spaghetti supper and dance held in the school cafeteria. There was the Senior Carnival, too. Our own Frank George Arnold Sinatra with a dancing chorus of girls, made feminine attendants swoon, while our comedian announcer, Dick Sentman, the but-definitely crazy, crazy band, and the Russian ballet dancers tdon't tell anyone that they were only the boys dressed in long skirtsl kept everyone laughing. Later there was dancing for everyone, and ice cream and cokes were sold at the booths. Yes, it has been a long time, full of laughter and fun, hard work, and disappoint- ments. Now that we have covered it we look back with some regret, but we look ahead with even more purpose and faith. Class history has become history, to us, and we are impatient to go on with our lives after graduation. So little done, so much to do. OUR CLASS PROPHECY Written by Pauline Holbrook and Ellen Smith Few things except the phenomena of that Arpil evening stand out in my memory now as clear. The clouds had been threatening since late in the afternoon. I sat by the window watching the storm gather momentum, when suddenly a darkness, deep as midnight, settled over the hillsides, and the fury of the gods broke forth, pouring torrents of rain upon an awakening earth. Great streaks of lightning pierced the blackness as peal after peal of thunder shattered the atmosphere. I do not know how long I sat there, but the storm subsided and the rain ceased. Huge clouds seemed rolling about in the sky, strangely lighted from behind. I remem- ber thinking, Indirect lighting, and then before my eyes the clouds opened and there was a picture. At first it seemed far away, but as my eyes became used to this strange new light, it began to take shape. Yes, there was the Mayville Park, the bridge stretching up behind. As my eyes followed the road, I saw many new and strange buildings. There were lights as far as the eye could see. The town seemed to have grown until it covered miles of countryside, but I had no time for reflection. The film traveled on in its revelation. At last it rested, clearly outlining a huge building set upon a hill. Was it, could it be-yes, there unchanged was the entrance to Mayville Central Schoolg but the building had grown to cover more than twice its original space. All at once I was transpalnted from this scene to another. I found myself entering a huge room wherein were spread banquet tables. Banners over these announced, Alumni, Welcome, 1954. Oh, this will be fun,'l I thought. I already recognize a face over there, or do I? It seems familiar. She is fluttering about rearranging place cards and straightening silver. She glances up and I am sure it is Martha Swan. I hasten over to speak to her, and learn that she is now head of the new Cornell Extension Home Ec. Department recently installed at M. C. S. I notice a well-dressed lady who seems to be in charge of affairs. Martha tells me she is the principal of the new M. C. S. As she turns around, I recognize Pauline Holbrook. The room is filling up fast now. Miss Holbrook speaks: t'W1ll the class of '44 please assemble at the speaker's table?l' A lump is coming up in my throat, the class of '44 at the speaking table, every one of its members a celebrity. Of course, I am not surprised, but after seven years abroad helping to bring the peoples of war- torn countries back into an established way of peacetime living, I have nearly lost track of most of my classmates, and this is the thrill of a lifetime! As we sit down at the table, I learn that Pauline has kept remarkably in touch with everyone, for she is introducing each one in turn. Do I hear correctly? Mr. and Mrs. Richard Lindahl. But as the little lady tosses her head and spins around on one toe I am sure. It is none other than our Marilyn Johnson, now a social light, and able mistress of the Lindahl Mansions. Just now the lights are growing dim, the curtain is rising and all eyes are looking toward a great stage. The spotlight is turning. Peach, Mary Webb, resplendent in a white uniform, is on the conductor's stand. She pauses only a moment and then speaks, poised. I am very happy to be here this evening. I am especially glad to

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THE PACEMAKER 1944 his arm. As they near the table, Pauline bows, and proudly announces, Admiral and Mrs. Wayne Rothwell. The blonde beauty smiles graciously, but the military reserve of Wayne remains unchanged as he acknowledges the intioduction. As the Admiral starts to sit down, a resounding crack on his back is heard, and a booming voice bellows out, Hi Butch, old fella! How are ya? Some gasp, others just hold their breath, but our hostess takes over. Admiral Rothwell, and class, the comedian of '44 and '54. Mr. George Arnold. Here comes someone, a sweet-looking person, almost rushing in, and Eleanor is rising. Now they are in each other's arms. This must be Kathleen Smith. I am so glad Kathy is here. She is matron of the Nursery for the Children of Married Students and Missionaries, at Nyack on the Hudson. Then I noticed Lauraine Stroebel, dressed in black, sitting next to Kathy. She is now the owner of a large beauty shop in New York City. I've been watching that short, dark-eyed man. I believe it must be Benjamin Kent. I hear he established the first helicopter travel service after World War II. He must be doing all right, judging from the diamond ring on his finger. Last, but not at all least, at the end of the table, I see a distinguished young lady whom I recognize as a prominent poet often spoken of. Her most important work is an ode to a 'tCherub Without a Chin. Her name, lVIrs. Beverly Nelson Martin. Again I hear music. Strangely the curtain has not gone up. The notes seem to pour over me from outside. They grow louder and louder, from notes to warbles and trills and gay melodies. Suddenly I sit up and open my eyes. I look out in astonishment at a world bathed in sunshine and filled with the happiness of birds singing after the rain. JUST A JOKE Mother- And were you a Very good little girl in church this morn- ing, Sally? Sally- Oh, yes, Mother. A man offered me a big plate of money, and 1 said, 'No, thank you'. 7? ..l:l, SIGN ON STUDENS DOOR: If I am studying when you enter-Wake me up! 1 E 1 Judge fto couplel 1 Caught on a park bench, eh? What are your names ? He: Ben Pettenf' She: Ann Howe. 1lj1 Doris- Danny, I'm only punishing you because I like you. Danny- 1 wish l were big enough to return your love. 1l:l, Mr. Forrester- Now we find that X is equal to zero. Dick- Gee! All that work for nothing!