Plainfield High School - Plainsman Yearbook (Plainfield, IL)

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“Wfo t efirteaentetcue Sfrtdettte Enthusiastic participant in all school activities . . . cheerleader four years . . . possessor of a perpetual smile and a cheery word for everyone. . . . Karen Bombasaro was chosen by the student body as their most representa- tive girl student. KAREN BOMBASARO Active in athletics and F.F.A. . . . president of student council . . . friend- ly and co-operative with students and faculty . . . Melvin Arbeiter possesses those qualities which make him de- serving of being elected by the student body as most representative boy stu- dent and recipient of the American Legion Award. MELVIN C. ARBEITER

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“ eccfrie tt a t C s4« te ic ui eyio t JANICE KEMMERER Her acceptance of responsibility . . . outstanding scholas- tic record . . . cheerleader three years . . . possessor of high standards of citizenship make Janice Kemmerer de- serving winner of both the D.A.R. and American Legion Awards.

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 Dtevuf (Ac '5$ Graduation Night June, 1954 Dear Diary, It seems as though we have climbed to the top of the ladder just to find that we are at the bottom once more and must start all over again. Yes, we have graduated from grade school and now have a whole summer ahead of us to anticipate what our next four years will bring. June, 1955 Dear Diary, Today marks the end of our freshman year at P.H.S. Our first taste of this new high school life was in connection with our initiation, which was enforced upon us by the upperclassmen. We were put through hectic paces and created curious sights as we roamed the halls with our lipstick smeared faces, cheap perfume, and unusual garb. Zestfully we launched into the creation of our Wheel of Fortune, which predicted that our fighting Wildcats would have another victorious Homecoming game. We were toasted as the hosts with the most upon the successful outcome of our first attempt at party giving, which was just Out of This World. As the year advanced, our literary horizons were broadened by our appreciation of The Ancient Mariner. We also became informed about governing bodies through our first contacts with the Student Council. Our first year has fairly whirled through and now we are to begin our sophomore year. We can only hope that it will hold as many fond memories. June, 1956 Dear Diary, Gosh, we are now half way through our four years at P.H.S. and will soon be considered upperclassmen. We swung right into the year's events with our poetic Homecoming float, The Swing. How we remember rigging up the frame and making dozens of paper flowers! Our tiny treasury finally began to mount with each social event that required the services of our sophomore checkroom. Many happy even- ings were spent gossiping together amidst the rows of heavy coats. Again our class party was a success and well do we remember the afternoons spent chalking up big cardboard silhouettes! And who would ever guess that there could be Too Much Mistle- toe? Well, that is what we tried to say when we went dramatic and put on a one act Christmas skit. Then as spring advanced, we donned our togas and prepared for the big Roman feast presented in the honor of Julius Caesar, a protege of Silas Marner in our literature world. Sophomores have been accused of being wise fools, and we no doubt have fit the bill; but now we await with eager anticipa- tion our junior year. June, 1957 Dear Diary, Phew, what a relief. What a rush we've been through. With the operation of concession stands, bake-sales, homecoming, the play, the banquet, and the prom, we were the busiest class in school. Our fondest goal seemed to be money, money, and much more money. At our refreshment booths during football and basketball games delicious, juicy, hot dogs, steaming hot coffee, and light, refreshing coke were our specialties. One of the biggest events on the P.H.S. calendar is homecoming. The theme for this year was the Big Top, and we really stopped the show with our entry to the parade, Carousel, which won the grand prize. We were show stoppers, or rather toppers, again when we proudly presented our first big dramatic production, The Inner Willie, the story of a ghost in red flannel underwear. The school gym just rocked and the rafters shook with the sounds of laughter as the cast performed its side-splitting antics. Then came the climax of our junior year—the Junior-Senior Banquet and Prom. All our hard earned cash was spent on this, the biggest social event of the season. The Old South, our theme, will linger in our memories Till the End of Time. A huge white mansion at the entrance and a veranda enclosed by a high brick wall gave an authentic atmosphere to our southern fantasy. The dancing couples swirled beneath a sky of hazy blue cheesecloth—oh, what a job we had putting it up! Even though the rain came down in torrents the night of the prom, everyone had a wonderful time. In September we will resume our studies in a new high school building. Everyone is looking forward to it, since we will have the honor of being the first class of seniors ever to graduate from it. We are all looking towards our senior year with great excitement, but with a note of slight hesitation. June, 1958 Dear Diary, Our senior year has gone by with satellite speed. The first entry on our senior agenda was the crowning of our Homecoming Queen —Charlene. The halls of P.H.S. echoed on the doleful note of oh no, not another history test! As the year advanced, we again became Thespians with our re- freshing rendition of Strictly Formal. When spring approached, our thoughts were turned with anticipation toward the oncoming banquet and prom festivities. As the occasion ' drew nearer, our curiosities were heightened as to what the theme of the prom in our honor would be. The most exciting and enjoyable activity was planning for our senior trip, which would take us to Washington, D.C. and New York City. With these exuberating thoughts in mind, we bring to a close our reign as seniors in P.H.S. Graduation Night June, 1958 Dear Diary, Well, it's all over now. Whether to be happy or sad about the matter is the question. All the good times we had together as a class can never be repeated. As we close the covers of our P.H.S. diary, we leave behind innumerable fond memories of our high school youth, a part of our youth which can never be relived, but which will sustain a lasting impression. And now tomorrow . . . Bonnie Herath and Carol Mutz.