Minnehaha Academy - Antler Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

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and clams in front of their faces, they felt they were brave enough to tackle anything! Among other things, a regular epidemic of appendicitis held the spotlight for a while. By spring, our class had finally agreed on having a roller skating party at the Arena. The grand total of thirteen turned out for this gala affair, ami not including Fred O., the class “prexy , who found Excelsior much more interesting. And twelve of these beaming Sophomore gals ended up at Elizabeth Anderson’s for a slumber-less party (her poor family). But the highlight of the year was the homecoming carnival sj onsorcd by the alumni. It was executed in grand style—thrilling rides, horror hall, fish pond, Chinese gardens, and the ever popular crystal gazer who told the girls all about their latest ami future “heart throbs”, much to the amusement of the boys who had their ears glued to the door. We Launch O ut into the Deep . . . We really believed that there was actually some hope for us—even if we were being labeled “THAT” junior class by the “admiring” faculty—and maybe we’d even graduate the next year if we were reasonably good anil didn’t wear a path into Miss Fellroth's office trying to get excused from classes. Each year brings something new for both the school and the students, but 1946 was outstanding. First of all, the great Northwest-Minnehaha Advance got underway with the Singers making a week’s tour of Minnesota and Wisconsin in November. The bus drivers will never be the same! Even artistic talent was brought to life with the girls’ lending a helping hand cutting out paper dolls, while chants of “one, four, nine, etc.,” resounded from the hack of the bus where one throng was busily engrossed in concentration. The permissablc fruits, otherwise known as “concentrated lemons, oranges, apples”, appeared in the forms of chocolates, potato chips, pop corn, and other such delicacies. Then, too, eleven man football was inaugurated in the fall, and we had our first night game at Zumbrota. Stu A. was again elected to keep our class in the hall of fame. It was definitely an honor to be an upperclassman who helped jam the bookstore each morning, clamoring to order the much anticiapted class rings. At the Mixer there was Oz Black, guest artist, who caricatured members of the student body and faculty. Don B. could be heard muttering afterwards, “Do I really look like that?” l o take the place of the annual homecoming that we didn’t have in the fall, a Winter S| orts Day was held between the fall and spring semesters at the Town and Country Club. After an afternoon of tobogganing, skiing, face washing, and a hockey game, dinner was served in the dining hall. The main event of the evening was a basketball game, followed by a program when the snow queen and king were crowned. We weren’t entirely to blame for our lack of class parties that year. But—we made up for it by throwing the biggest and best “J-S” ever to have been held. We chose a nautical theme for this most important event which was held at the Calhoun Beach Club on May 2 . . . and we’re still gloating over the price . . . $7.50 each!! The traditional class shoes were handed down to our class vice president. Bill B., although Bill E., class president and master of ceremonies, would have fillet! them more adequately, considering his size fourteen shoes. We pulled anchor and set out, with all thought of school forgotten that weekend. It is more commonly referred to as the “Lost Weekend’’. W e a r r i v e . . . No longer was it necessary for us to haunt the halls with that lost lix k on our faces, for after three years of student-vs-teacher, we had emerged the victor and reached the distinction —SENIOR!! Of course, we were no exception to the rule of exclaiming, “My, my,—the freshies are getting smaller every year! ”, but tenderhearterness overtook us and we were very careful not to trample down the defenseless little creatures as they struggled through the hall on their way to class. Bob Channer was called to the role of chief of our fair tribe. The entire school was shaken, no less, one bright October day as the ANTLER Staff presented their seismic six act skit, “Poor Johnny”. There’s no doubt about it,—that Page Twenty-three

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CLASS HISTORY We Embark . . . The year of years ... we had arrived at Minnehaha! There we were—all forty-six of us —the largest freshman class ever to enroll at M. A. Between a timid attempt to prove to the upperclassmen that there weren't any “coke bars” on fourth Hoor and trying to decipher the unsystematic method by which the rooms were numbered, we had a taste of what to expect in the next four years. To sum up this first day—we felt like a bunch of sardines packed in among whales. Bill E. was chosen to lead our mighty class. Only three weeks after school began, we daring little freshmen hail our first class party— a wiener roast at Minnehaha Falls. While Tina related to the fearful girls stories of the “ape man” and the “rocking chair”, some of the more venturous lads climbed to the higher heights of the near-by ski-jump. As if walking from school to the Falls weren’t enough for our daily exercise, we walked all the way back to Bloomington and Lake after the party, serenading the neighborhoods as we went. Ah!— but cupid was busy that night, and such couples as Marian and Rog, Jeanne and Bill F ., Wcezic anil Chuck F., Margo and Bob S., and Janet S. and Don B. turned up for the Mixer the following week. Since it was a circus theme, some of our class clowns were called upon to perform. The Minnehaha Choir was organized that year and it boasted some one hundred members, all of whom had hopes of being promoted to the Singers the next year. When the Choir and Singers united their voices in concert, they were known as the Minnehaha Choristers. We would pick one of the coldest January nights for a class skating party; but a good time was hail by all—especially Bob S., our new class president, who made several “flings” around the island. Certainly “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” and we weren't inclined to become the victims of such a horrible fate. After a grueling day of school work, pre-arranged snow ball fights were held—that is, until seri- our objections were raised to our engaging in them in the lunchroom. But, alas, that didn’t stop us—we retreated to the athletic field. After numerous peace treaties were signed, we were still good fiends ... I mean friends . . . , and this “play” discontinued until another year. Along about this time, we were really beginning to wonder about one of our feminine freshies. So, one day in English, some of her friends (????) posted a sign which read: “Attention! When the hat is passed, please donate to this worthy cause—to send our special character back to St. Peter.” The net income from this project totaled forty-four cents and one streetcar token! Only a brave upperclassman dared walk through the dining hall after 3:15 (those were the good old days when we got out at that time), for there was nothing but a blur of freshman girls RUNNNNNing after one another with salt anil pepper shakers. It’s no wonder the victims had to wash their hair every night. The fancy glass straws blown by clever “scientists” of the general science class were all the rage and quite the envy of everyone at lunch one day. It gives milk that added flavor, you know! And so we had completed the first act of our high school career. We Set Sail . . . Amidst the familiar sayings of “forging” and “acting”, our sophomore year opened with a bang—with Stu Anderson at the head of the cannon. It was with a feeling of greater ease this year that we went to the Mixer, where true radio talent was produced over station DIZZY in a stirring melodrama. Geometry proved to be the downfall of many of us, especially Carolyn N. who literally slid into that class each day. The girls in the biology class vowed that they’d never dissect a frog, but after a half year of contending with the boys who’d appear out of nowhere and dangle parts of worms, fish. Pane Tuenty two

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white robe, halo (alias, a deck tennis ring dipped in flour) and red and white striped football knee socks donned by Fred O. brought home the admonition, “Don't let this happen to you!!” Tradition followed through as the title “King’s Messengers was handed on for the third time. Don Swanberg anti Bob Schulecn were the senior members to receive this honor. Their rendition of “Dry Bones” will long be remembered. “Our goal Osseo” was the keynote of the 1947 Homecoming, and the football team did nobly by winning 40-0. Our lovely queen Jerry Swedberg and her two attendants, Mavis Peterson and Betty Swan, reigned over the festivities. Television was the only thing lacking in the evening’s program as station B-U-R-P went into action (with realistic sound effects, too). With the aid of a few' gallons of wave set, a simply dreamy (nightmare, that is!) hairdo was created on Don B. The following day found the cities’ grocery stores completely cleared of “Mother’s Messy Morning Mush”. Of course, the “Newr Look” wras all the vogue, and despite the boys who rolled their pants legs half way up to their knees in protest, the girls continued in their stylish mode to wear their long skirts and dark stockings. The first step towards graduation was the taking of the grad photos. More hours of practice smiling before the mirror at home were followed by retakes at the studio, but still with the same result, “E-E-Ekk ... is that me??” Our intentions w'ere good again, but that’s all. The pro| osed class sleigh ride at Eton’s fell through completely. What a sensation the new pay telephone installed in the main hall causal as the students returned from Christmas vacation! Fun, food, and glamour ruled over the 194H Winter Sports Day held between the fall and spring semesters. This year the committees really outdid themselves with lavish preparations, and the results of thir planning were most effective. Despite the eighteen below' zero weather, the hockey team had a cheering sideline as they defeated U High in the afternoon, w'hile others chose tobogganing anti skiing at the Town and Country Club. The refreshment crew' stood-by in the dining hall ready to cope with the excessive appetites at dinner time. Bob Roddy, But! Dixon, and Don Samucl-son, impersonated by Bill E., Jack A., anti Don B., respectively, held the spot of honor on the evening’s program. A mock graduation with all tlue awards presented by Miss Fellroth (alias Carol L.) was given to keep these three 19475 2 graduates happy until their regular June commencement. It was a high moment of suspense when the spotlight fell upon the three candidates for the title of Snow' Queen. This honor went to Joanne Milton; her attendants were Grace Carlson and Laura Hildebrand. Bill Ingman was crowned the Snow King. A basketball game with the Alumni concluded the day’s festivities. All eyes were turned tow'ard Arthur Alan Olsen, pianist, as he played at Carnegie Hall in New York in February. Besides this achievement, he also completed his high school course in three years. We have struggled through those horrible college aptitude tests, and Bill Busse has been elected to lead our senior class through this final semester. Now, as we look forward to the closing events of our high school days (daze) —the J.S., skip day, class day, baccalaureate, and finally commencement—we also look back on these last four years to remember them as the “Best Years of Our Lives”. Pjgr Tnrnty-fotir