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

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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.”

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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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The hot sultry day would soon be over, Phoebus and his fiery steeds were slowly sinking to rest, a cooling breeze was playing gently through the bushes and gladdening the hearts of our weary caravan. All the day long we had been travel- ing through the barren wastes of the desert and we were glad to see before us a village, where we might find rest and shelter for the night. As we neared the village we were told by our guide that there was a strange and mysterious woman visit- ing the town at that time, who astounded many people by her strange and wonderful deeds. Being very much interested in such people. I decided I would visit her and see what she could tell me. On entering the room I was much dazzled by the many ornaments upon the wall. In the center of the room reclining on a couch was this beauti- ful woman. In her hand she held a crystal maze in which she was gaz- ing; from this she read strange pic- tures of the future. Being much in- terested in the future of my class mates, I asked that she tell me some of her strange prophecies. After look- ing at me for a while, she wiped the crystal and started talking in a weird voice. The interior of an auditorium crowded with eager young faces pic- tured itself. On the stage was a very large man who was conducting what seemed to be an ass embly in a High School. The auditorium looked very familiar and then listening to the speaker I recognized him to be none other than my old class mate Winifred Topping. He had succeeded Mr. Alex- ander as principal of my “Alma mater.” After realizing this was the same old school, I looked to see if there was anyone I knew. Why even