Oakwood High School - Acorn Yearbook (Fithian, IL)

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THE ACORN - AOF I9 CLASS PROPHECY 8 One evening as I sat gazing into the fire, I saw slowly rising from the embers, Il small figure with tiny wings. Although momentarily startled, I soon regained my composure as the spirit said, Madam, I am the spirit of the Class of '39, Come with me and I will reveal to you the future of this remarkable group. I followed him, and he led me to an odd looking airplane. I entered, and, after rising steadily for some time, I picked up the courage to look below. On the highway a speeding car caught my attention. I was surprised to find that it was not a traffic cop pursuing a bandit, but only Junior Harden carrying on the family Ford business. I1 seemed no time at all until we were landing in front of the White House. Here I found Andy Young presiding over the affairs of the nation. He told me confidentially that, though his present duties did not weigh heavily upon him, he had never fully recovered from the strain of guiding the destinies of the Class of '39 for three years. We learned from His Excellency that William Watson was star reporter for The Washington Post, published by Joseph Dejonghe. We hurried back to the plane and Hew up the coast to New York. There we landed on the roof of a large, downtown hotel. As the dinner hour was near, we made our way to the main dining room. I picked up a menu, and the first thing I read was, Owned and Managed by Martha Cork. We found Martha in her office, the same old Martha. She told us that Jim Cade was living in Manhattan, and with the help of Ferol Jones, his private secretary, was managing a chain of Cade 5-and-10 cent stores extending from coast to coast. We continued northward to Boston. Wishing to cash a check, I was directed by the spirit to a large bank, where I recognized Max Myers as the cashier. Beside him stood a charming brunette, Evelyn Hadden, who had evidently con- sented to become his permanent home adviser. I accepted their invitation to attend a World's Series game between the Floston Bees and the New York Yankees. As I adjusted my field glasses, I spied Frank Thompson acting as umpire behind home plate. Early the next morning we headed eastward across the Atlantic. Not far out we met a large sea plane. My companion informed me that it was a trans- Atlantic airliner. I-le also told me that it had been guided through many a storm by its efficient pilot, Cullman Reed, while the stewardess, Nancy Crawford, was quieting the fears of the passengers. Soon after reaching Paris I found myself seated in a beautiful opera house, while I listened to an even more beautiful aria sung by Mary Vinson. Leaving

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THE ACORN 9 CLASS PCEM Luck to you fellows, and luck to you girls! We're scattering out as the big ball whirls, Bringing to a finish the senior year. Luck to you all when you're gone from here! Fagaly, Gutterridge, Rutan, and Cade, Records as Future Farmers have made, With Van Zandt, Murphy, and Rodney Payne. Luck with your herds, your flocks, and grain! Freda O'Banion from johnson Hill, Elouise Cunningham from Chaney's Mill, Evelyn Hadden, serene and tall, And Frances Johnston, luck to you all! Editor Johnson hats off to you Ilyressa and Marilyn, your helpers, too, And Thelma Woodard, my special thrill, l'm boosting for you all and always will! Luck to you, Durbin, McClure, and Smith, Neff, and all you teamed up with, Like Thompson and Young-all coaches, meet, VVith bulging muscles and flying feet. Delores Giacone, a good natured prize, With Italy's gleam in your deep, dark eyes. Ferol jones and Coleta, petite, Luck to you all when the world you greet! Mary Elizabeth and Ruby O. Are keen at exams, as we all know, Jewell and Nancy and Gerry, too, Viola and Doris, here's luck to you! For Cullman Reed, who checked the books, For Richard Condon, who's long on looks, For William Watson, so clever and witty. And Richter, too, I penned this ditty. Virginia and Beatrice, Ann, all three, With Betty Lou are full of glee Martha and Myrtle and Helen gay, Live to a hundred and love each day. Balbach and Glen and Joe Dejonghe, Gillen and Harden and Jenkins' son, Myers and Palmer, my namesake, too, We've come to the parting. Here's luck to you! 8.62

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THE ACORN OF I9 the opera house we hastened to the Coliseum to see the final game of the World s Series basketball tournament. As we entered, a spectacular play from the center of the floor by none other than our old friend, Howard Durbin, clinched the title for the United States. A few hours later we landed on the outskirts of Shanghai near a war-torn mission where Glen Cunningham was ministering to the needs of the wretched natives. Upon visiting a nearby hospital we encountered Dr. Rodney Payne, who was just recovering from a severe attack of Chinese mumps, thanks to the de- voted attention of his efficient nurse, Frances Johnston. .lust across the street from the hospital in big red box car letters we read the sign, Condon's Funeral Home. In an instant I realized that Dick was still up to his old tricks of covering up Rodney's mistakes. While our plane was being refueled in Honolulu, I seized the opportunity of repairing the damage done to my personal appearance during my sky ride, by visiting the Jenkins and Hart Beauty Salon. Mary Elizabeth suggested that I call at the Island branch of the United States Department of Agriculture to have a chat with John Rutan, director of the entomological research laboratory. We found him down on all fours manipulating a high powered microscope as he counted the hairs on the bald pate of a coddling moth. We noticed over in the corner two figures in a huddle. On nearer approach we discovered I-Toward Richter and Fred Gutterridge counting and sorting ant eggs. We rushed back to the airport, boarded our plane, and took off for Alameda Field near Oakland, California. We tuned in on station O.T.H.S., owned and operated by Audrey Johnson and Helen Tillotson. We heard a booming voice. faintly familiar, announce, This red-hot campaign will close tonight at 9:00 P. M. with a debate between Beatrice W'ilder and Richard jenkins on the ques- tion, Resolved that blue pin feathers will never grow on pink elephants. Your announcer is Lowell CThomasj Murphy. The time is now 5 P. M. Coleta watch time-C-O-L-E-IT-A. Before we landed at Alameda we circled over Alcatraz Island, where far below we saw the gray mass of the famous San Quenten Prison. I learned from the spirit that Jack Strongarm Van Zandt, the warden, had just settled a hunger strike by feeding the strikers cream puffs concocted by the head of the commissary department, Fred Balbach. who got his cream puff start in the foods laboratory of O.T.H.S. He also told me that assisting Warden Van Zandt were Charles Smith, the idolized head of the Drop-The-Handkerchieb Department and Ed McClure, the popular chief of the Pick-It-Up-Bureau. A few minutes later we landed at the Alameda Airport. That afternoon we visited the famous zoo at Golden Gate Park. There we had a little chat with joe Neff while he touched up the elephant's toe nails with bright red polish. His partner, Ferris Cvillen, was busily engaged in giving Leo Cthe lionl a rosebud permanent. We wormed our way through a crowd gathered around an iron cage through the bars of which we watched Betty VVilson and Ann Oakwood instruct- ing a bevy of attentive monkeys in the intricacies of ballroom dancing.