Ottawa Hills High School - Mesasa Yearbook (Ottawa Hills, OH)

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i KINDERGARTEN KLUB liarbtmz Hirrclv, Polly Ll1711QL'7IL't'kL'1', Bufliafu Blink, Terry Cfltzrb, fllfill lieriwlv, M tlrgie ftnlziem fl. THE HISTORY OF THE CLASS OF '51 Get your seats, folks, the show is about to begin. There go the lights and the iilm has begun. The title is The Life and Death of the Most Outstanding Class Ottawa Hills Ever Had or Thank Gosh They're Gone. Youll have to pick the title that you feel is most appropriate. Well, the film has begun and there are seven of our most illustrious seniors lying on their rugs in the kindergarten and taking their usual naps. Everything is quite in order except for the fact that Eon Black is having a line time tickling little Prudie Padgett who gig- gles coyly and then hits him over the head with the cast on her arm. Oh. there's the house made out of blocks and the doll house, and remember the sandbox? Strange that Mike Barnard preferred a little sand from the sandbox with his milk and crackers but of course. to each his own, The scene is changing, however, and with much foreboding and fear of Miss Brambles famous technique of hair pulling, we advanced to the preponderous problems of learning to read and write and get along without killing each other. There was really no need for being scared of Miss Bramble, though. The only time she re- vealed any streak of ferocity was the time she washed o.1t johnny Bertsch's mouth with soap. We're really on our way now and here we are in the second grade. It was during this year that we first began to display our dramatic talents in the operetta jack in the Beanstalk. Being a precocious group we were already revealing our talents in other lines, and so in the next picture you see us perched all over the hicycle shed singing a rousing chorus of a lovely song Theres Terry Clark leading the group and what is it we are so lustily chanting? Margie loves Larry, Margie loves Larry! Those two bright red spots are the faces of Margie Jamieson and Larry Bershon. As the projector rattles on we see ourselves in third grade. My, aren't we growing up! Such sophisticates! At least we would be if Cynthia would stop beating th: boys at soccer and Barbara Hirsch would refrain from 2 9

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-5-F LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT We, the class of 1951, of the Ottawa Hills High School in the County of Lucas, State of Ohio, being of sound mind and memory, and not acting under fraud, duress, menace, or the undue influence of any person whatsoever, do make, publish, and declare this our last will and testament. I, Joan Abbott, do leave my poise to Patty Adams. I, Larry Bandfield, do leave my vocal chords to Don Colenback. I, Barbara Bebout, do leave a slightly used bottle of peroxide to Dottie Marks. I, John Bertsch, do leave my baseball bat to Sid Davis. I, Barbara Black, do leave my jodhpurs to Sarah Rudy. I, Cynthia Brumback, do leave my height to Marilyn Leighty. I, Terry Clark, do leave my Irish eyes to Suzie Holtzman. I, Mary Dennany, do leave my arm scratching technique to Peggy Fuller. I, Dick DeVore, do leave my paint brushes and palette to Bob Rogers. I, John Dodge, do leave my camera and flash bulbs to Frank Nicoll. I, Leon Feuer, do leave my gait to Dave Mebane. I, Edward Furst, do leave my athletic ability to Joe Duffey. I, Bob Gebhardt, do leave my address books to Tom Klein. I, Elenore Haunstein, do leave my clothes to Janet Haunstein. I, Barbara Hirsch, do leave my stationery and pen to Mary Fuller, I, Margie Jamieson, do leave my friendliness to Joanie Black. I, Janice Kase, do leave my Pepsodent smile to Sue Pope. I, Judy Kent, do leave my inimitable remarks to Terry Bolles. I, Polly Longenecker, do leave my gavel to the next Student Council president. I, Pete Lott, do leave my golf clubs in care of Bill Black. I, Harv Olson, do leave my incomparable laugh to Jon Deimel. I, Bob Reese, do leave my old themes and book reports to Freddie Reese. I, Bill Scher, do leave my love for jazz music to Johnnie Colenback. I, Ross Shumaker, do leave my brains to Rocky Furst. I, Lee Slayton, do leave my pegged pants to Ben Bowker. I, Judy Starsky, do leave my exuberance to Ginny Beck. I, Jack Stichter, do leave my self-confidence to Bill Miller. I, Ron Turner, do leave the O. H. women to Dave Shaffer. I, John Walbridge, do leave my mature attitude to Bob Fraser. I, Tom Welly, do leave my generosity to Nancie Howe. I, Anne Widrig, do leave my personality to Diane Byron. 28

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- -4.1 mutilating the boys in those free-for-alls. There's one of the free-for-alls now. Whoosh! That was Barbara Be- bout streaking along and here comes Tommy Eley lumbering along after her with a fiendish glint in his eye and a solemn burndt. Well, here comes the fourth grade and our mentality is improving by leaps and bounds. Why we've even progressed to long division. My, what talent. That little round ball flying through the air is Bill Babcock. He is leaping out of his box, for he had the lead in another operetta that year and was then known as Jack-in-the- Box. We were always a united class, particularly in the third and fourth grades. The only trouble was that the units never could get together. What fine healthy battles we had between Prudie's team and Delia's team! Does anyone remember if any faction ever did win? Well, anyhow, we made it to the fifth grade. Oh yes, there's Margie tripping the light fantastic as the fairy in the Three Wishes. Here comes the girls of the chorus line Hitting among the trees as butterflies. Good heavens! Cynthia is climbing one of the trees and the whole set is about to fall. The scene changes Cthank heavensb and there we are in the sixth grade. We had now become the seniors of grade school and we were just as proud and pompous as befitted our elevated position. We no longer played rabbits on the swings or monkeys on the monkey bars and the girls were learning to attract attention from the boys in other ways besides swinging upside down on the playground. We were unfortunate in losing our teacher that year but another one was quickly provided. There she it. Remember her? What was her name? Ah yes, it's our old friend Mrs. Meeks. Need I say more? We graduated and there we are, lowly seventh graders. Mr. Scott was our shepherd who specifically pro- vided us with want. But it was a grand year. We discovered a new talent this year that we spent much time developing. That was the skill of playing Spin-the-Bottle. However, the camera skips quickly over this and we see a scene from Tom Sawyer. Theres Anne trying hard to act as though she likes Gary Shaffer who is Tom Sawyer. It's a difficult role but Anne seems to be doing rather well, judging by the color of Gary's face. As we leave the seventh grade we catch a scene from our class picnic at Walbridge park fthe reason Elenore's face is green is that she's been riding on the Loop-the-Loopb. Now we're in the eighth grade. Boy, what a year that was! We spent the year studying like dogs, par- ticularly on Friday and Saturday nights. There are Ed and Walter Boden going over their poetry on Saturday night. I guess they needed a little coaching, though, because there are Anne and Joan listening to them recite their lessons. The projector rattles on and we at last see ourselves entering the high school. That little girl trying to hide behind the pillar is what is commonly known as Mary Dennany. She was shy then. Would you believe it? Our freshman year was a great year for most of us. There we are attending the football and basketball games in mass and although there were fewer class parties we have a few scenes from those rip roaring hen parties that the boys enjoyed so much. Mr. Bolbach also gave us a few nice parties on Friday afternoons. He enter- tained us with looks that for some reason seemed to melt right through our new jewelry. After the ninth grade comes the tenth grade, and there we are. Say, who's that teacher? I'm sure we've seen her somewhere before. Oh my heavens, it's that sixth grade substitute! She's gently reminding T. J. Welly to sign up for the public speaking class by suggesting that he might just unfortunately fail Core if he doesn't sign up. It was in the tenth grade I believe that the boys and girls finally got together at the New Year's Eve party. Perhaps it was by force but they got together, didn't they, Ron? The next year we actually became upper classmen. It was this year that Judy Starsky, Judy Kent, and Janice Kase came bursting in among us and there's a picture of Ron soon afterwards looking like spring itself. Of course the biggest event of the year was the prom. With the help of Mr. Bolbach, and Mrs. Meeks we put on a dance that really wowed them. There we are on the afternoon before the big night. Gosh, what a jungle of crepe paper and balloons. Mike Barnard came home to help us out and there he is, running around quite busily popping the balloons with a nice long pin. He always was an active little fellow. And so, after twelve or thirteen or fourteen or-ahem-years of schooling we have at last become seniors. The events of this year have been numerous. There is John Dodge hanging by his knees from a lamp post try- ing to get a different snap shot for the Mesasa, and there is a scene from the Tuesday party at Lee's. Say, is Cynthy throwing John Walbridge around or is John Walbridge throwing Cynthy? It's hard to tell because some of the flying water from the water light got on the lens of the camera. There is a scene taken at one of the basketball games and the boys are really doing a swell job. That bedraggled mess is a shot of the physics class returning from Chicago, and of course we'll never forget the play. My, that love scene must have taken a lot of practice. How about it, Joan? Soon now we will be graduating and we can only give you a preview of that. In this picture you see our feelings as they will be revealed in our faces as we leave Ottawa Hills. You can detect a sentimental sadness there, particularly in the faces of the girls, if you can see through the tears. There is also a note of gratitude and great happiness as we look back on our years at Ottawa Hills. And so the projector stops and another class be- comes a part of the past. 50 i l ig A '