Nokomis High School - Old Nokomis Yearbook (Nokomis, IL)

Page 29 text:

0LD NOKOMIS I, Dick Husman, leave my well-kept (?) history outline to Albert Sanuskar. I, Wayne Warnsing, leave mv weak voice to Bennie Bernardini. I, Lucille Loomis, leave my place as pianist to Paul Obregar. I, William Brockman, leave my position as taxi-driver for the girls to William Rakes. Signed, sealed, published and declared by the Class of 1929 as its last will and testament. Bill, Brockman. In presence of: Quill Pen Script Ink Papier White FAREWELL Dearest schoolmates and teachers, We are sorry now to say, That we must hurry onward To pursue life’s busy way. Gladly would we remain here Among this jo(ly throng. Did not the whole world say: “Up, Seniors; move along.” Of the happy days we’ve spent here We’ll have memories that ne’er will fade, By which we shall remember, The friendships that we’ve made. In all life’s greatest problems, When all the world seems blue, We shall look back at our school days, For courage to push us through. So to Freshmen, Sophomores. Juniors, And dear teachers all, as well, We, the Class of ’Twenty-nine, Extend our sincere farewell. Yvonne Dahler. ’29.

Page 28 text:

OLD NOKOMIS SENIOR CLASS WILL We, the Senior Class of 1929, being of sound mind and sane actions, declare this to be our last will and testament. We hereby declare all other wills made by us before this time to be null and void and bequeath, give, leave and otherwise dispose of the following: To the Juniors we leave some of our superb dignity and hope they will use it as well as we have. To the Sophomores we leave the advice and rule of the Faculty. To the Freshmen we bequeath the privilege of becoming Seniors provided they study hard for two more years. I. Louis Buechsenschuetz, leave my position as football captain to David Kessinger. I, Floyd Barnstable, leave my liking for the feminine class to W illiam Reichart. I, Ruth Shellhaus, bequeath to Gladys Carroll my long dresses. I, Esther Johnson, leave my many beaux to Elizabeth Griffiths. I, Genevieve Kroeger, bequeath to Mildred Harms my sprinting prowess. I, George Sale, bequeath my position as cheer leader to Emery Staples. I, Irene McLean, give my brotherly love to Gladys Langford. I, Louis Klancnik, leave my worn-out tennis balls and the privilege to equal my record to Lee Pope. I, Adolph Klancnik, bequeath all of my worn-out razor blades to Ralph Keislar. I, George Hill, bequeath my heel plates to Mr. Stumm. I, Wesley Meyers, bequeath my slight stature to Harold Dilley. I, Leland Rhine, give to my brother, Junior Rhine, my ability to make high grades in all subjects. I, Edna Hulbert, bequeath my attractions to the opposite sex to Melvina Kroenlein. I, Ethel Hippard, leave my shyness and retiring manners to Pauline Gipson. I, Mary Kirkland, bequeath to Aretta Davis my ability to sneeze (vio) silently. I, Yvonne Dahler, bequeath to Margaret Pyle my gym suit. I, Clara Nollman, leave my superior high-jumping qualities to Geraldine Peters. I, Lillian Holmes, leave all of my worn-out and broken hairpins to Helen Kettelkamp. I, Kenneth Anderson, leave Edna to anybody who thinks he can get her. I, Frank Studnick, leave my studious ways to Donald Marley. I, George Evans, leave my card-playing ability to Charles Fahnestock. I, Joe Ekkers, do leave to Ralph Challans my flashy, green necktie providing he doesn’t wear it. I, Mary Mehochko, leave my boxing ability to Lorine Hill. I, Mary Havera, bequeath my ability to play horseshoes to Helen Pauschert. We, Olivebelle Satterthwaite and Edith Carroll, leave our tennis-playing ability to Winifred Hand and Marie Bost. - 24 -

Page 30 text:

OLD NOKOMIt;- SENIOR CLASS PROPHECY In the year 1940, we, the aristocratic hobos of Class ’29, decided to buy a ticket on the round-the-world plane, “Sky Pilot”. We boarded the plane, and whom do you suppose our pilot was? None other than Louis Klancnik. the pilot of that famous Class of ’29, of that wonderful school, Nokomis Township High. Our first stop was in London. On going to Westminster Abbey, we found Arthur John Husma’n looking over the inscriptions on the tombs. He told us he was professor of English literature at Harvard University. In Paris we attended one of the famous revues, where we found Ruth Schell-haus was billed as a Spanish dancer. Our next stopping place was Berlin. Here we were told that Louis Buech-senschuetz had been elected president of Germany because he had a high-sounding German name. Engine trouble forced us to land on an Arabian desert where a party of scientists was excavating. The leader, a big, bespectacled fellow, seemed familiar, and on questioning,-we found he was Floyd Barnstable. His middle name, Oliver, sounded so professor-like that he became head of a famous institute of ancient history. At a small Chinese town we found Genevieve Kroeger doing missionary work for the poor Chinese people. Stopping off at Honolulu, we attended a dance of hula-hula girls. The master seemed familiar and suddenly his name came to our minds. He was George Sale. He had been so attracted by a native that he had settled down and married her. The longest leg of the flight took us to Nome, Alaska. Here, William Brockman had “struck it” rich and found the soil so fertile that he had started an organization for the raising of oranges in Alaska. Our airplane having broken down, we had to hire a big “he-man” to take us to the capital city. He was none other than George Evans. Can you imagine? On the front page of an Alaskan daily paper we saw the following headline: “Charles Lindbergh to marry Edith Carrol of Atlantic City Bathing Beauty fame.” Mary Mehochko and Edna Hulbert, who are the best of friends again, invited us to attend a lecture they were giving on the subject of “Friendship”. During our stay in Alaska we also found that Adolph Klancnik was coach of basketball, and that he was a champion tennis player. Leland Rhine, we found, was teacher of agriculture in the Alaskan Agricultural College. Next day we took a ship to Vancouver. Mary Kirkland was the ship’s cook, and could she cook ? Don’t ask. Arriving at Vancouver, we were just in time to see the opening of a school for children under six. George Hill, our famous “math” shark, was to teach these little children how to count. Our next stop was at Los Angeles. Here we were agreeably surprised to learn that Irene McLean had married and settled down to a peaceful and happy life. - 26