Paxton High School - Reflector Yearbook (Paxton, IL)

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P apJtectf. . . “Peanuts, popcorn, crackerjacks! I’ve been selling these for ten years tramping around until my feet are so sore I can hardly stand it. It surely is nice to have the circus play Paxton today to celebrate the grand opening of Kenny Watkins. Home for Broken Down Debutants. There’s Kenny now, “Hi Kenny.” Oh well, guess he didn’t see me. “Peanut! How many up there? Eleven! Say that’s some family you—Hap Wheeler! What are you doing now? Coaching your own team at Ludlow? How are they? Little but mighty? Hey! there’s someone trying to get your attention. Why it’s Margaret Young! She must be on a leave of absence from her missionary work. I’d better amble on again. See you later, Hap.” “Fresh roasted peanuts! The band is doing a super job—Byron Myhre’s sweet trumpet—Darlene Larson and Ruthie Wooldridge’s clarinets are playing softly now while everyone is breathlessly watching the trapeze artist—Maurie Adams. He looks mighty neat swinging up there now that Peg Rich and Mary Ann Beckstrand did this new designing job on the Big Top. Yes sirree, mighty neat!” “Hi, there, Lum, I haven’t seen or heard from you in several years—not since I picked up the paper and read, ‘Redheads Battle. Illini Coed, Bev. Lund-berg, and St. Louis designer, Kay Novak, fight over possible turn out of Illinois-Notre Dame Game; however, Kay won when “Ears” Graham, Fullback for Notre Dame, scored the one and only touchdown of the game.’ I wish I could have seen that but we are always on the move around here. Where’s Dot Rust keeping herself these days? Is that so? Chambermaid to Van Johnson. Boing!” “Why Betty Naugle, hello! I thought you would be too busy to make it. Oh, didn’t have to cook for the threshers today? Good enough! Take a look at who is entering the ring—that neatly stacked bareback rider, Gloria Small. Well, got to get to work again or our business manager, Kenny Johnson, will start using his old one-two on me.” “Peanuts! My but that section of gold braid up there looks profitable. I think I’ll investigate. “Well, Bob Lateer, of all people, you’re pretty young to be an admiral. Isn’t that Carl Martin and Neil Piper with you? That gold braid nearly put my eyes out. Say did you know that Marilyn Robinson has her own school for women, Robinson’s school for Reformed Redheads? Professor Don Froyd has the largest enrollment in his Home Economics class. They boast that they can reform any redhead that enters; but I hear they have had quite a time with Caryl Erickson. Her best girl friend, Phyllis Engstrom, was just expelled because they discovered that her red hair was the result of Theresa Graham’s skill as a beauty operator. I’d better get back to work now, I have a lot of competition with Pauline Forbes’ cotton candy and I can’t afford to let her get ahead of me.” “Hey, Kids, move on”—why I do believe those toughies belong to Florence Horridge and the twin curly headed girls are Maryjo Lankston’s. “Here kids, the treats on me!” Now I’m almost out of crackerjacks. I think I’d better amble down and get some more.

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 Peep. xU Mve Jiaekl 0 0 MAURICE ADAMS—Its a great plague to be too handsome a man! CHARLES ALDRICH—I hurry at my own convenient speed. DELORIS BEATTY—She travels fastest who travels alone. MARY ANN BECKSTRAND—It’s a quiet mouse who gets the cheese. SHIRLEY DALE—She’s a bashful girl, we guess. MILDA EHMEN—She’s another one of the silent kind who never let’s us know what’s in her mind. PHYLLIS ENGSTROM—A Spanish genius—almost. CARYL ERICKSON—I was born for something—what is it? ALBERTA FANCHER—My size is no measure of my liveliness. PAULINE FORBES—Her smiles are many, her frowns are few. DONALD FROYD—To flunk is human, to pass, divine. T PIER ESA GRAHAM—Man delights her not. VINCENT GRAHAM—All great men are dying; I don’t feel well myself. JOYCE LEA HEACOCK—Ever loyal, ever true to the work she had to do. PATRICIA HENRY—A buddy to everybody. FLORENCE HORRIDGE—Like a star she sparkles—on her third finger left hand. EDWARD JOHNSON—I never worry about my lessons—they’re in my books. KENNETH JOHNSON—Brain power is not measured by the size of the head. VIOLA JONES—A whiz at type—and other things. MARYJO LANKSTON—Give me action, I love it. DARLENE LARSON—She’s not afraid of man or devil—just snakes. ROBERT LATEER—Attention! The admiral arrives! ! JEAN LATIMER—If all blondes were like Jeanie, then we’d say, gentlemen prefer blondes anyday. BEVERLY LUNDBERG—If silence were golden, I’d be dead broke. CARL MARTIN—His friends are many, his foes, are there any? BYRON MYHRE—Like the north wind, he blusters all day long. IRENE McGAULEY—I remember a mess of things, but none distinctly. BETTY NAUGLE—Watch! I may do something yet. KATHLEEN NELSON—A certain fellow from Buckley is her meat. CATHERINE NOVAK—True to her work, her word, and her friends. EDDIE PALMBERG—Meet the future president. (Of what?) MARJORIE PEABODY—Superiority is a senior’s privilege. EVAN PETERSON—A grade! A grade! Ye gods, give me a grade! NEIL PIPER—A lion among the ladies is he. AARON RASMUSSEN—A quiet man, but quite a man. MARGARET RICH—Speech is great but silence is greater. BARBARA RICHARDSON—’Tis good to be merry and wise. MARILYN ROBINSON—This girl has brains enough for us all. DOROTHY RUST—Tho’ she be little, she is fierce. JOAN SAMUELSON—Don’t worry—studying won’t cause my death. GLORIA SMALL—Like the Northwest Mounted, she always gets her man. MARY SMITH—Always pleasant, and with a smile for everyone. ANNA TETER—Her blush is beautiful but sometimes inconvenient. EDITH TRIBBEY—A maiden never bold of spirit. KENNETH WATKINS—Brown hair, blue eyes, a Romeo in disguise. NORMA WATSON—Life is long and I am short. OSCAR WATSON—He knows a lot he just can’t think of it. SHIRLEY WEBURG—Good things come in little packages. DONALD WHEELER—Blessings on thee, little man. RUTH WOOLF)RIDGE—Life to her is one sweet song. MARGARET YOUNG—Her every movement is a spring and a bound.

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“Wait a second and I’ll walk with you, Aaron. Aren’t you Retting tired strutting around trying to keep order? How does it feel to be called Sheriff Rasmussen anyway?” “The show is getting good now. Look at that Edward Johnson is ringmaster of the center ring. Patsy Henry just brought her dogs in and is putting them through their paces. And take a peek over there! In Charles Aldrich’s ring, Milda Ehmen is having her ponies circle the ring while in Eddie Palmberg’s over there to the right, Kathleen Nelson is walking the tight rope. They are certainly strutting themselves for the old home town. Oh, by the way, Aaron, don’t forget to listen to the Quiz kid program Sunday night. Norma Watson is to be their guest star; a Hollywood talent scout found her a couple of years ago. I’ll be seeing you later.” “Well, if there isn’t Sally Teter. Hi Sally! I hear you are secretary to a football coach. What a profession! Did you know that Irene McGauley and Alberta Fancher have started an Advice to the Lovelorn, coast-to-coast hookup? I understand they have been pretty busy.” I think I’ll mosey over toward the entrance. “Peanuts, popcorn—Hi Viola! What are you doing these days? Is that so? Shirley, Barbara, Edith and you have your own stenographic agency—Jones, Dale Richardson and Tribbey? I understand your motto is ‘If you want to learn to type a letter the right way—go to Mary Smith’s agency—it’s better.’ Don't tell me you get any work that way, Oh, I see, that’s the idea.” “Say, look over there. Isn’t that a row of baby carriages? Looks as if someone is puttering around, too.I think I’ll see what is going on. Well! Marjorie Peabody, I wondered who had taken the job of baby tender for the matinee. Must be your love for children that made you apply. Say, look! Three aerilists just started to climb to the top of the tent. They look rather familiar. I think I’ll get a little closer, come on. Why, I didn’t know they had joined the troupe. They are DeLoris Beatty, Joan Samuelson, and Shirley Weburg, aren’t they? Oops! Jo just slipped—no, someone caught her. Oscar Watson! right on the alert, which is a blessing for her.” “I have to move along now. Take good care of the kids.” “Evan Peterson! What are you doing digging along the edge of the ring? Oh, I remember now, you’re finishing that W.P.A. project you started the last time we were here.” “Crackerjacks—Look out, lady, someone is falling down those steps to the bleachers! Joyce Heacock, I might have known and look what you did to Jean Latimer. Here, Jean, I’ll help you up, you have to be in good shape for the rodeo. After all, you have to keep up the kid’s enthusiasm over the cowgirls of the wild and woolly West. Better hurry! It is about time for you to go on.” “Yes sirree! Today certainly has been eventful. I’ve either stumbled on to or heard about all my classmates of 1946. I guess there are some advantages to this job after all.” Peanuts, popcorn, crackerjacks!’