Paxton High School - Reflector Yearbook (Paxton, IL)

Page 20 text:

THE WILL (continued) I, Ben Johnson, will my stage presence to Joan Archer. I, Dorothy June Johnson, will my interest in the hand to Barbara Burton. 1, Ruth Johnson, will my meekness to Maxine Varner. 1, Elsie Jones, will my ability to guard in basketball to Maurice Adams. I, Dorothy Lewis, will my quiet voice to Mary Elizabeth Eagan. I, Arnie Magnuson, will my sweet smile to Bud Turner. I, Wildon Metz, will my artistic ability to my sister, Kathryn Metz. I, Stanley Mineer, will my lack of interest in American History to John Lateer. 1, Robert McCabe, will my boisterous manner to Beverly Lundberg. I, Donald Nelson, will my practical jokes to George Hendershott. I, Cornelius Noland, will my work ai home to Bill Pearson. I, Gweneth Ostrom, will my interest in telegraphy to Lois Piper. I, Bob Pearson, will my ability to play pool to Bob Trager. I, Catherine Peterson, will my scholastic ability to Joyce Heacock. I, Betty Piper, will my red hair to Marjorie Peabody. I, Dale Purtill, will my job as manager of the popcorn stand to Cecil Plackett. I, Peggy Reid, will my interest in the Air Corps to Irene Streeter. I, Beverly Riggle, will my love of books to Maurice Shilts. I, Lee Rowe, will my Ludlow accent to Mr. Wilkinson. I, Doris Ryberg, will my ability to “jitterbug” to Catherine Warner. 1, Donald Sachau, will my ability to be on time to Neil Piper. I, William Scott, will my ability to argue to Miss Strong. I, Everett Shreves, will my mechanical ability to Ray Williams. I, Wendell Siddens, will my interest in paper hanging to Hitler. I, Ella Mae Stanford, will my brief romances to Barbara Thilmony. I, Lilian Tappan, will my steady heart to Betty Robertson. I, Franklin Thompson, will my musical talent to Everett Given. I, Harold Turner, will my “speed” to Coach Miller. I, Robert Watts, will my ability as soda “jerk” to Donald Froyd. I, Paul Ingold, will my interest in Fisher to Charlotte Fields.

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THE WILL We, the graduating class of 1943, do hereby declare this document to be our final words to you who are compelled to remain behind us. We wish it to be implicitly understood that we are of sound mind and that every bec uest has been made in the spirit of good will. I, Agnes Anderson, will my interest in the Johnsons to Nancy Frederick. I, Dorothy Anderson, will my parlor jokes to Bob Lateer. I, Josephine Barringer, will my hair bows to Mary Frump. I, Dale Bayles, will my heritage, a one woman complex, to Bill Smith. I, Robert Behrens, will my Ford car to Fred Whitcomb. I, Norris Burklund, will my dancing feet to Phyllis Peterson. 1, William Burklund, will my nocturnal habits to Warren Gustafson. I, Leslie Carlson, will my unfortunate heart affairs to Vincent Purn. I, Peggy Carlsten, will my frown to Betty Frank. I, Betty Corbett, will my interest in groceries to James Rotramel. I, Brooks Davis, will my poise and gracefulness to Caryl Erickson. I, George Fox, will my speed on the basketball floor to Wilbur Ogle. I, Fay Fuqua, will my rosy cheeks to Betty Naugle. I, Mary Graham, will my interest in French to Audrey Lind. I, Betty Gunning, will my interest in the Army to Marjorie Crowe. I, Norman Gustafson, will my success in F.F.A. to Raymond Johnson. I, Robert Gustafson, will my football to Cleo Bayles. I, Lois Hall, will my interest in office work to Agnes Graham. 1, Watson Hayes, will my romantic inclinations to John Peterson. I, Helen Hendricks, will my bashful manner to Jean Latimer. I, Andy Henricks, will my beautiful hair to Gloria Small. 1, Shirley Hileman, will my interest in the Navy to Miss Crosby. 1, Lorraine Holverson, will my correspondence with service men to Pat Henry. I, Jack Ireland, will my pointless jokes to Bill Overstreet.

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PROPHECY “Here I am, back in the good old United States again,” thought I, as 1 stepped off the steamer in San Francisco. Even though the war had been over a year, I had stayed in Australia, helping in the hospitals. Now I was home! Stepping off the boat, I had to go through the usual procedure of customs, and who should be the officer in charge of investigating the baggage but Donald Sachau. I hailed a taxi. Imagine my surprise when Everett Shreves drew up in the latest model. Arriving at the San Francisco airport, I hurried up to the ticket window. I realized there was something familiar about the salesman, or rather saleslady. Why of course, it was none other than Helen Hendricks. I turned to leave the building, but I noticed a door marked “P. Carlsten, President”. My curiosity got the better of me, so I entered. After waiting a few moments, I was admitted to a large office, and who should be sitting behind the desk but Peg! We talked over old times, and she told me that Ruth and Dorothy June Johnson were chief dietitians for the air-line company. Boarding my plane, I was pleased to see that my stewardess was Gweneth Ostrom. I learned from her that the pilot and co-pilot were Peggy Reid and Lorraine Holverson, and the two snappy officers sitting in front of me were Lois Hall, a WAAC, and Fay Fuqua, a SPAR. Later, they told me that they were bound for Chicago where they would soon return to civilian life. At Reno, two gentlemen boarded our plane. Lois told me that they were Robert Watts, who owned some “places of amusement” in Reno; and his chief assistant and constant companion, Jack treland. Robert, it seems, had done very well in the “business”. Upon recognizing me, the two old friends of mine came back for a chat. They informed me that George Fox was the new National Pool Champion. They also said that Franklin Thompson’s orchestra with the dancer, Doris Ryberg, were being featured in one of the large night clubs. At Denver, who should board the plane but the “Major and the Minor”! Dale Purtill was a major in the army, and Stanley Mineer was a miner at the mines in the Rocky Mountains. They joined our group, and we fell to talking of old times at Paxton High. In the course of our conversation, they told me that Arnold Magnuson owned a chain of drycleaning establishments. I wondered where he got his start. I asked them where Wendell Siddens, William Scott, and Watson Hayes were. One of the group mentioned that he had read in the latest movie magazine that Watson Hayes was destined for stardom as the idol of the college girls. Scott, it seems, had recently been made an MP to subdue brawls, a change from the old days. Siddens had just returned from Africa and was glad to see blondes again. Just then I happened to glance below to see a large group of ranch buildings. Jack seemed to think it was the cooperative ranch of Robert Pearson, Robert McCabe, Harold Turner, and Paul Ingold. I noticed in my paper that Robert