New Albany High School - Vista Senior Blotter Yearbook (New Albany, IN)

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CLASS PROPHECY THROUGH THE KEYHOLE 'r was very dark, so dark that I could scarcely discern the little man who had invited me into his room. A very queer room, I thought, as I examined it more closely, my eyes growing accustomed to the strange purple light. The walls, hung with black velvet, were per- forated with enormous keyholes. By the side of each keyhole hung a large golden key. The golden chair upon which I was seated and a table, set obscurely in a far corner of the room, were the only pieces of furniture. So you want to peep into the future, eh? Y-y-es, I stammered doubtfully, trying to avoid his piercing black eyes, set far back in the mummy-like face. I had a strange feeling that I should inquire about Pharaoh's health, or if his lovely daughter still wore the golden ankle-brace- let Ramesis had given her, But before I could ask such impertinent ques- tions, my host had taken hold of my hand and, with a grasp as cold and unyielding as the tomb, led me to one of the keyholes and seated me before it. Life is a door, whispered the ancient, Man looks through the keyhole and sees success in all its glory. The golden key is achievement, and all his life he strives to open the door. But when his achievements are completed, and at last the door swings open to his touch he finds Death awaiting him, and success is ashes. B-but the prophecy, I choked, wishing fer- vently that I had never come. Look into the keyhole, he muttered. The old man and the gloomy room were gone. I was standing on a hill bathed in brightest sunlight. Overhead the sky was blue and the air was oppressive with the odor of flowers. I could see no one, but, hearing sounds of revelry, I has- tened down the hillside. As I emerged from a small group of trees I met a man walking up the pathway. Stopping to inquire about the location, I noticed with surprise that the man was my old friend, Arthur Morris. He told me that he was a farmer in this region and was hurrying home from the circus because Babe had dinner ready. Leaving him regretfully, I decided to go to the circus. On every side large banners bore the legend, Sa1iford's Colossal Circus. The Greatest Show on Earth! Eagerly purchasing my ticket from Anna Mae Hulen, I hastened to the circus grounds. A loud voice at my lett was calling my attention to the special benefits of Zingo Snake Oil. Turn- ing, I perceived our own Ora Mae Ashabranner mounted on a soap box. As I watched Lierall Sermersheim carry water for the elephants, I was disturbed by a slight tap on the shoulder. Preparing to duck, I heaved a sigh of relief for, what I had thought was the Salvation Army asking for money, turned out to be only Joe Bosier in his old band uni.orm, selling programs. At the next tent, Eddie Moore, the circus bark- er, was loudly proclaiming to all who would listen if i b - A A --m f ' K ' ' ' -.vp WW, , . h as M that Sanford's Shows offered the greatest aggre- gation of freaks to be found under one tent in the universe. Sold by the glittering promises of his sales talk, I hurried in with the rest of the crowd. Attention, please, shouted Eddie, Over here we have the premier sword swallower of the world, Clifford Davis, who has swallowed blades before all the crowned heads in Europe. The next exhibit is a supreme demonstration of Jugoslavian glass blowing, explained the barker. The crowd was then amused by Chester Johantgen and Joe DeVoss who blew graceful swans from purple glass. Everyone was interested until the swans were offered for sale, then the people promptly passed to the next wonder. This proved to be Esther Bye, scantily attired in a tiger skin, fondling a large boa constrictor which reached out its tongue and playfully tickled her neck. Across the tent there was a sudden roll of a drum, and I turned to watch three dextrous jugg- lers. Walking closer, I discovered them to be Jus- tin Salyards, Hugh Smith, and Reese Caress. Amazed by their well timed tricks, I was almost too late to get a good point of vantage for the following feature. Swinging from her perch in an immense golden cage and whistling for all she was worth, was Lola K. Sloan. The human canary bird, announced our guide, 'tJust a boid in a gilded cage. After recovering from the shock of seeing the distinguished Speaker president bedecked with yellow feathers, I hurried on, eager to see what would come next. High on a platform stood Kath- ryn Hendrich, Viva Emery, and Mary McCullough, each holding two blazing torches. They thrust the burning brands into their mouths, extinguishing the flame. I gladly offered them a match in re- ply to their request, timidly withholding a desire to ask if they inhaled. In the adjoining booth I found Jennie Mae Ayres, the fat lady who hadn't seen her feet in ten years. I approached her and whispered, My, how you have grown! My surprise at seeing Jennie did not compare with the astonishment I felt upon seeing Ruth Kemp displayed as the living skeleton. It seems that she had started on an eighteen day diet and lost her calendar. For the final act a Punch and Judy show was presented, During the show I was sure that the voices seemed familiar. After the performance I peeped behind the curtain and was startled by the realization that all fourteen voices belonged to Virginia Duffy. On leaving the tent I wondered just where Eddie Moore got the idea of all the freaks, but then I remembered he had always had a weakness for exaggeration. Bob Blasius came by with a basket of peanuts, and I purchased two sacks in preparation for a trip through the Menagerie. In the main cage, the cynosure of all eyes, was Lena, the educated lion and her trainer, Byron

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HOOSIEPUS THAVELOGUE To foreign shores and foreign ways, A Hoos'er took his pop-eyed gaze: For travel broadens-so 'tis said- The feet, perhaps, if not the head. At midnight, promptly by the clock, The liner left the New York dock, And twelve miles sea-ward from the pier, All bars let loose a 'flood of cheer. Alert, our Hoosier stood in line To reach the bar and try the wine. Throrgh space and fog, he sailed away, As well as through six meals a day, Till England's shores extend a hand, tShip stewards, tool and then dry land. Past London's shrines he had a ride- Was taken past, but not inside. The longest stops were made by far, In Dirty Dick's and Bogey' Bar . The North Sea crossed-a Holland breeze Bore hint cf fish, canals and cheese, And small Dutch maids in beach pajamas Stared at him, then called their mamas. Somewhat abashed, he sought the station, Entrained third class, and left the nation. Adown the Rhine, our gallant trekker, Nose sunk deep in his Baedeker, Identilied the Mouse Tower stones, Where varmints chewed the Bishop's bones. In Poland-chapel, hall, and vault Were fashioned deep in mines of salt. At Nuremburg, the torture hall Held rack and viseg applied to all Reluctant to confess a sin, They'd crunch a bone, or rip the skin. If victims finally did escape, They never quite got back their shape. In Prague, he saw chess-men delux- Cost Wallenstein a million bucks. Vienna's pride is Hapsburg dead, Two hundred of 'em sealed in lead. Our Hoosier felt his Hospice cot Was one of that same leaden lot. All through the Alps to Lake Lucerne, The scenery made bridge fiends adjourn. But Swiss watch-shops brought sad reverses- They quickly emptied slender purses. For cuckooclocks, desire awoke And left our Hoosier almost broke. He sailed the Luke past Bill Tell's chapel, Where legend says Bill shot the apple. But praise for Bill is much too brisk- llis son it was, who took the risk. Geneva offered three days Wait To see the Peace Court operate. Distinguished Attaches explained, And all the while it rained and rained. Then off for Paris-spirits low- Four dollars left-two weeks to go. Might cable home, but understood It wouldn't do a bit of good. So sold his foreign coin collection, Relieving his profound dejection. To Paris comes the World to lark, And does so-mostly after dark. No censor dulls or tries to ban Thrills for the Eggs and Butter Man. All farewells are, I love you, Honey: I'll be back when I get more money. Third class to Cherbourg-very weary- Long wait in Cherbourg--wet and dreary. Aboard the liner, glad because He'd craved a storm, and here it was. For two wild days, his face was pasty, And journeys to the rail were hasty. Meals and ship behaved the same- First, down they went, then up they came. His toast and broth-when hunger beckened He got 'em first-the fishes second- Surrendered all to sea and wind While sailors swabbed the deck, and grinned. Once more ashore, the Hoosier bum Was back, right where he'd started from. -John Shincr. 05'

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CLASS PROPHECY-Continued Drumb. Lena was not a real lion but only Eliza- beth Shrader under a mangy lion skin. This ex- plained why Lena could count to ten and balance books on her nose. Farther on Lewis Sellers was attracting a crowd with his performing fleas. These cute lit- tle parasites were quite attached to their master and jumped through small hoops and rode bicycles at his gentle command of ally-opp! While I was throwing peanuts to the monkeys the band outside struck up a lively march which I recognized as number five in our old high school band books. Leaving my peanuts with Don Reeves, I hurried out to find Bob Holmes directing the circus band. My old friend Dick McC1'acken was puffing away on a brass saxaphone while Bill DeVo1e played cadenzas on a clarinet. The three trumpet players turned out to be Willard Thorn, Bob Buchanan, and Hump Campbell himself. I spent some little time in exchanging greetings with these fellows and came very nearly being late for the big show. lk lk if Pk lk With a flare of the drums and a blare of the trumpets, the grand procession started. Leading the parade came Nancy Beard, regally attired in a white spangled gown with red and blue stripes, proudly riding on an elephant. As she swayed to and fro in the hawdah she sang O Speakers Dear , accompanied by Mary Jane Newhouse, try- ing in vain to drown her out on the calliope. Immediately following, entered a group represent- ing natives of foreign lands. Running ahead, playfully blowing darts at the elephants, were three African pygmies, Carl Harris, Hugh Thomas, and Ray Christiansen. Behind them slinked Etta Wright Best, the panther woman, dragging an anemic looking alley cat. Japan was represented by Evelyn Dunn, Irma Guilfoyle, Ruth Bailey and Delores Clark, all neatly made up to fit the part with powder which had been left over from the Lucky Jade. Beneath masses of dark hair which distinguished them as Australian Bushmen, Harold Crandall and William Stacy, peered out as if looking tor a suitable target for their ready boomerangs. With a wild shout of Whoopee! , Merrill Whitlock dashed into the ring mounted on a pinto pony, leading a band of wildwest cowboys. Carl McClure, Chuck Kreutzer, Freddie Leaf, and Homer Treser rode madly about amid much shooting and rope twirling. The final entry brought the beautiful pageant of Solomon and His Many Wives. John Shiner, astride a white mule, his feet dragging the ground, was being pelted with flowers by Alma Sloan, Imelda Deuser, Pursuing him were Anna Marga- ret Best, Anna Watkins, and Lan McIntosh, all enchanted by the charms of the great lover. Undisturbed by the glamour of the procession as it slowly wound its way around the tent, Wylie Grey nonchalantly sprinkled sawdust about the ring while Joe Renn sold pink lemonade to the thirsty mob. Things started off with a bang when Meyers Faith was shot from a cannon. It was worth the price of admission to see Carolyn Morton catch him in a butterfly net. High above the heads of the crowd Felix Mc- Callister, attractively costumed in pink tights and long purple stockings, tiptoed across a shining wire. In one hand he daintily held a rufTled para- sol, in the other, the latest volume of his poetry. He balanced himself to the strains of I Love You Truly, beautifully rendered by Robert Moss on the pipes of Pan. While Richard Roehm and Robert Schroeder were preparing the ring for the high diver, in rolled the clowns, Wilbur Oeiiinger and Dudley Marlow, following their putty noses in circles, and chased Shirley Noon and Anna May Jacobi about the tent. Anna Lee Grimes, who was sitting in the audience, giggled so hard at the clowns' antics that she fell off the bleachers. Edward Jones, Walford Oglesby, and Frank Naville hurried to her assistance and were surprised to find Charles Elmore lying under the bleachers, groaning from the results of too much pink lemonade. Freda McAfee, the circus nurse, was summoned and she quickly brought Charlie around by using prin- terls ink as smelling salts. After the excitement in the bleachers sub- sided, the ring master, Rogers Hartman, an- nounced the Fearless Female, VVynema Rector, who went alone into the lions' den. She was armed only with three cannons, two sub-machine guns and was attired in an army tank. In the center ring, Mattie McCandless was mounting the high dive. The crowd watched her breathlessly as she dived blindfolded, turned three and a half dips, and slid smoothly into a porce- lain bath tub. As the audience rose to applaud, the band too kit as a cue to play the Star Span- gled Banner. Everett Klinstiver twirled his red mustache and cracked a long whip while Jane Shacklett did a toe dance on the back of a plow horse. Flying from trapeze to trapeze, Dolores Lang, Leola Clayton, Helen Belviy, Thomas Teives, and Bernard Graff intrigued the country yokels. The feature of this act was Tommy's catching Dolores while he was hanging by his big toe. Elmer Dieckmann hoisted Kate Burger to the top of the tent where she hung by her teeth for the rest of the performance. The dog and pony show, under the command of LaVerne Bennett and Jessie Llewellyn, pro- vided some amusing tricks for the children. In rolled Dorothy Baker, Margaret Fischer, and Marie Knight riding trick bicycles. They were followed by Ruth Zimmerman, Eleanor Gar- rison, Florence Smith, and Jane Overton, skating backwards through the sawdust. As a finale the cowboys returned accompanied by Charles Stastny, Denzel Keller, 'Willard Parr, and Carl Martin painted as Indians and yelling bloody murder, Charles Cauble, perched in the driver's seat of an old stage coach, fired a cap pistol viciously at the bandits as he drove around the track. The screams of Ruth Allen filled the air when the Indians at last caught the coach, and she was forced to get out and hand over her jewelry. Leon Macon tried vainly to sell balloons as the crowd filed out. Feeling the pangs of hunger, I was led to the lunch tent by the odor of fresh, fried doughnuts. iii I S X