Newport News High School - Anchor Yearbook (Newport News, VA)

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26 THE BEACON into our lives, and we lived in one per- petual nightmare. Sorrowfully I write that when we came from that grade it was to bury Caesar and not to praise him. Of course we had our other studies, but what were these in all their glory compared to Caesar? In the meantime, military training for the boys and folk-dancing and drill for the girls were introduced into the school. Later it was decided that this training should count as one more credit towards our diplomas, so we drilled or folk-danced with such an energy that a tender-hearted observer would have wept with pity, had he seen our plight on a hot day, and the unbroken line at the drinking-fountain after the period from 3:30 to 4:15 was over. Our High School boys arrayed them- selves in gray uniforms, and when they marched by the school with their guns on their shoulders, halted and went through the manual of arms in perfect order, we could not have been prouder of them had they been real soldiers. In September we began our third year of High School. We have always called this our hardest year — probably because English Literature, General History, Geometry and French made us buckle down and cram” harder — maybe because the weighty title of “Junior” over-awed us with its ter- rible significance that Junior is next thing to a mighty Senior. That year Mr. Clark left us and Mr. Fred M. Alexander took his place as principal of the High School. From the start we liked our new principal, and as we grew to know him better, we found that our Old High had certainly secured a friend who was in- terested in its business and social welfare, for never in its career has the High School been so well organ- ized as it is now. Our Junior year passed happily. We had our joyful days and our gloomy days, our lucky days and unfortunate days. Somehow we managed to cram our way through examinations and finally, with out hearts filled with joy and not a little thankfulness, zip! bing! bang! we were fully launching into Our Senior Year! Seniors! Life was indeed a rose- colored cloud for us. Besides we had a brand new school and the nicest room teachers possible. For a wonder, we did not even mind going to school! That fall a terrible epidemic was spread all over Newport News. Our school, we are proud to say, was taken for an emergency hospital, and proved a haven, for all the other hospitals were filled to over-flowing with Influ- enza victims. Five weeks later, when the epidemic had abated, we returned to complete our term. It was on the 11th of November, and nearly the whole world was in a tumult of joy. Peace with Germany had been declared! There was no school that day; we were dis- missed. However, the next day we started in earnest the work we had left un- finished. We have been through American Literature from beginning to end, we have reviewed our spelling and grammar, we have written stories, one of them (we were told) to be made as much like Edgar Allen Poe’s as possible (poor man, he would turn in his grave if he read them,) we have written essays galore, know Shake- speare by heart, certain Shakespear- ian actors and actresses would envy (or be convulsed at) our marvelous dramatization of Macbeth” an d Hamlet.” But now that we are ready to gradu- ate — over fifty of the hundred — there is a wistful something that makes us just a little loathe to go, and when we think of the happy times of this

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On a hot September day, four years ago, a large auditorium was the gath- ering place of a certain class of peo- ple that have made great histories in the time. This class of people was divided into four parts, Seniors, Juniors, Sophomores, Freshmen, and the greatest of these were the Fresh- men (in their own estimation). Hear ye now the history of this class as told by one of the members, who with the approval of the other members of the class of June, T9, ' will impart to you our four long years of ventures, both “mis” and “ad.” 1 have said the day was a hot one in September, and so it was, hotter than some of the summer days that had just passed. Nevertheless, each member of our group of over one hun- dred, felt shivers and thrills chasing each other up and down his spine, and no wonder! It was our first day in really, truly, High School! Can you who read this history imagine how “awe-full” we felt? In timid silence, we listened to the buzz of the voices of those who had been there before. How young and unsophisticated we felt for a while. Suddenly a bell sounded through the hall and it became miraculously quiet. Mr. Norman L. Clark, Principal of the High School, began to speak. He gave us a lecture on school careers and how to study, and when he had finished, our young minds and hearts were filled with mad desires to “Sink or swim, live or die, survive or per- ish.” After the lecture was over we were assigned to our classrooms. As the Freshman passed out, low, but ominous hisses that sounded like “rats! rats!” struck our innocent ears, and though we hung our heads and blushed with shame, our souls concealed the pride we felt in being even “rats.” That was the beginning. On the fol- lowing day we vainly wrote our names and grade in English History, Clark’s General Science, Bookkeeping records or Bennett’s Latin Grammar. Our class had been divided into two sec- tions, Bookkeeping and Latin. That first year we were quiet and unobtrusive as good Freshmen should be. We learned to apply the golden rule of “amo, amas amat, amamus, amatus, amant” to our teachers, prin- cipal and school-mates — or rather to all our school-mates except the Soph- omores; I think we hated them. Eng- lish History was drilled into us so thoroughly that it was really difficult to convince ourselves that we were actually born and bred in America, and were not Queen Elizabeth ' s cour- tiers, and certainly not her admirers. Thus our first year slipped by, and we were “rats” no longer. By this time High School was already an old story to us and we smiled with con- descending interest at the quiet en- thusiasm of the Freshmen newcomers. With that second year, Caesar came

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THE BEACON 27 last year, we feel as if we want to be Seniors forever; to go over the excit- ing class meetings and entertainments — even lessons. But there is a bright side to every- thing — and the future to look forward to. Then when we are settled into our different ways of life, we can all look back, ever “Ready and steady, Loyal, but heady, Boosting for our old High.”