Port Jervis High School - Victor Yearbook (Port Jervis, NY)

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We are the class of forty-three, Behind us lies vast Mem'1'y Sea, Ahead an o'ercast sky. About rings a fearless song, That tells our hearts it won't be long, That war will wane and die. We've lived and laughed and loved and learned, Midst carefree hearts, from books un- burned, And we shall not forget. As I begin this lighter verse, I hope that you won't fume and curse, It could be worse yet. Little Theresa Ferraro Still says toity-thoid street. This girl cares not for tomorrow, And doesn't like a neat pleatf' He's waiting for Air Corps orders, To try the army chow. He'd like to change to new quarters, I-Ie's Mr. Ira Franzblau. Betty Jane Gibbs is the object Of one lad's affection. I hope this now timely subject Raises no objection. This is Miss Betty Gochenour I now present to you, She doesn't like this blasted war, But of boys she says, Woo-woo. She lives only for the blackouts, This Doris Gottlieb gal. She says it's then the wolves are out, She knows, I tell you, pal. Marc Grathwohl's our man of muscles, A football hero too. But if girls start wearing bustles, He'll quit them, and so would you. Art Gray is always dreaming on About a girl named Joyce. So 'till his dream is past and gone, Don't anyone make a noise. We all remember Bob and Dick, The Greer boys who are now In the army of a nation sick To help make it well somehow. 'Tm not the saint I seem in school, Harriet Gregory said. She's not a saint at all in school. Oh, Oh, What have I said? Grace Brewster's not boy-crazy, Like a silly high school girl But show her men in uniform, Her head is in a whirl. Joe Browns the strong and silent type, He seldom says a word. The army'll teach him how to gripe, Out loud so he'll be heard. Bob Brush keeps all his secrets To himself, and him alone. But I think he thinks this of woman: She's a rag, some hair, and a bone. His favorite hangout's where girls are, Favorite pastime, he says, is neckin', Fav'rite femmes are Lamour and LaMarr, His name's Howard Buddenhagen. His aspiration is medical fame, Yes he'd like to be a Doc. His inspiration's some neat dame. You've guessed-he's Howie Bullock. Class Poem By LEON HELT Frances Aber's favorite pastime, Teachers must have heard, Is chattering idly during class time, She's springtime's first-heard bird. He's mooning over Betty, He's giggling like a goon, His name is Willard Adams, More to say-verse ends too soon. Don't know much about him, Nothing I can say- Just know his name's John Arlow. He's better off that way. Mischief hovers in his eye, His laughter in the air. Delmer Bicknell is this guy He'll do what you don't dare. Gossip if ever there was one, A giggle-gal to boot. Her name is Lorraine Blair, Some people think she's cute. One look at Margaret Stening Is enough to prove to you That modern design's the only thing, It counts in women too. Shirley Hosking's all wrapped up In two important things, The moron jokes she tells us And the silly songs she sings. Raymond Burns-it can be told- Cares not how well a girl cooks. He doesn't care if she's shy or bold, He only cares how she looks. Jim Butler, it goes without saying, Is neither too wolfish nor bold. But still-and this goes without saying, He's as smooth as is polished gold. Dick Carlson is cracking his knuckles, Or chewing like mad on his gum, Then out he bursts with his chuckles, This boys who is everyone's chum. A tall and lanky blond is he, Bill Sherwood is his name, I don't know what he's gonna be. No matter, he has good aim. Henry Schutz, the horoscopes say, Appears to be conceited, I'm not inclined to think that way- My thoughts I have deleted. Herb Schmalzriedt is a little boy, With a great big deep bass voice. His girl friend is his constant joy, That I tell not her name is his choice. With never a thought of quitting, 'Though illness ruin each dream, Ken Bradshaw is now with us sitting, He's on our Commencement team. A man of many faces he, A special one for each mood, This fellow's Ted Salmon you see Nothing 'bout him can be booed. Ed Rutan is no woman's man, That is, at the least not one's, Though frozen or under ban, Eddie would still have some hons. Another bold fighting marine Is Sir Francis Rombousek, A strong cog in the roaring machine, That drives the enemy back. Hobe Roberts is a. country lad, Who's used to sun and soil, And the crops we need and have had Come partly from this lad's toil. She's full to the tip of' her tongue, With laughs not hard to provoke. I think she will always stay young, Alys Reese, of you I've spoke. He's really not a wolf you see, Can't blame him for liking girls. He seems like the quiet type to me- Herb Pierce-I'm wrong, say the glr She's quite noticeably demure, Maintains a good shape with no diet, You all do know her I'm sure, Her name is Phyllis Piatt. There's little known and little told Concerning Al Phillips, so, As long as you all know I'm joking, On to the next verse I go. Mary Osowick wants to be A secretary I'm told. But here is a prophecy: She'll be wed before she's too old. Frank Oliver now takes his place, In the midst of this corny verse. This may not quicken his pulse's pace If I'd known him 'twould be much w Catherine ' Ogrodnick's unconcerned, With trivial things like men, But when she has her school work les She may study men again. The Einstein of our physics class, So dubbed by Mr. Chase, Is Walt O'Connor, who, alas! Must find the bounds of space. One of the constant trio, Eleanor, Helen and Anne, Is Eleanor Nicolette, Find her alone if you can. She's tall, well-rounded type of girl, Who's easy on the eye. Her name is Phyllis Zeller, She likes boys. Don't ask me why. Buoyant, demure and naive, Then too, Jean Waycie's coy, But she must wear her heart on her For some gallant soldier boy. Bill Wagner is our King of Clowns, His jokes are super corn. But still he's nice to have around, When life and school are borin'. Gene Vollmer who is better known As Boxy to his pals, A few wild oats has lately sown With the Matamoras gals. John Stewart has gone to help Uncle Win this new war to end wars, And when he's all finished with Uncle He'll come back to the girl he adm Bill Soner's a. quiet, retiring boy, With a smile that will win any heal But never can tell when he's sad or in j When needed, he'll do his full part. Antoinette Soletro has in her eyes A soft, Neopolitan light. And feelings she cannot disguise, Be they sad ones, or angry or bright

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nhn Sigreto's a flghtlng marine, With share ln their powerful glory. nd soon now the fact may be seen, He's helping to write her llfe's story. he prosecuting lawyer type, Is Mr. Laurence Murray: ut yet he's calm and collected, And never ln a hurry. nck Morgenstern's life ls an open book, It begins I don't know when. 'hat, you say you can't get a look? Could be that I'm wrong again. need at least four hundred lines To write all I want to say bout Miss Georgia Mitchell, A girl who's really tres gale. lttle Shirley Merkenschlager Never has too much to say: he drinks birch beer instead of lager Hope I finish this before May. aseph Meloi ls just a boy, But like any other goon, Ie uses a gun like a toy. Bet I won't finish 'till June. lond hair, blue eyes and flve feet two Is this sprlghtly little miss: he's known as Betty McConnell, to you, I can't go on llke this. 'peratic singing, says this girl, Is where I shall seek my fame. fpera sets my head a whirl. Helen Mazure is her name. lelen Burns with patience awaits A soldier boy's return le's fighting a foe he hates: Where the alr about him burns. row enters this ne'er ending cycle A glrl you surely know: he ls Eleanor Carmichael: We'd llke to see her grow. . somber looking fellow he, A dark beard on his face: le's one of my good friends you see: This fellow's Charac Case. le is always nattlly dressed, His hair is a crowning glory. Go West, I say, Young man, go West. This friends, is George Chant's story. liss Laura Chase ls known to all For her locker love affair, since Johnny left the high school hall, No more do we find her there. s she quite as shy as she looks? I ask you and you ask me. llberta Child will leave her books Some day. Just you wait and see. 'our dimples, friends, has Donald Cole, In each cheek, and on each knee. t's hard to cultivate a mole, Or dlmple that's full of glee. lhe has an olive-colored skin, And eyes that pack a punch. Vell here we go: I'm off again: Won't end at all, I've a hunch. almost forgot to tell you, And now lt takes four lines more. But Alice Collins bribed me to To give her eight lines instead of four. And now we come to a jokerg Les Davenport's the name. We laugh: his face like a poker, Though the joke remains the same. She uses as a looking glass Whatever she can find. When you see Esther Decker pass, Now you'll know what's on her mind. Don't tell a single soul of this, I really shouldn't tell. Bob Delaney in happy bliss Has said that girls are swell. I've heard that Elizabeth Denk Likes soldiers and sailors too. Almost every girl does, I think, I'm telling you nothing new. He's known as Porky to his friends, And Don Dewitt to all. Long before this wacky verse ends, He'll be another inch tall. His love affair is a classic, The Locker Holder Upper. To Frank Doss Miss Mimi Clancy, Is breakfast, lunch and supper. Thelma Emge's a country girlg She is not from the city. But an oyster may have a pearl. This poem is a pity. An Amazonic blond is she, Earleen Emrich by name. If only this verse could better be! Right now it is a shame. Tom Fell now wears the uniform Of United States Marine. We hope that medals may adorn I-Ils coat when here he's seen. Anna Trovel, friend of all ls terribly fond of clothes That is why in spring or fall She's dressed up where 'eer she goes. Bob Heal's another country lad, But still he's not a hlck. No one can ever call him cad, Not even a city slick. Although he plays good basketball, And this ls true, I'l1 bet, George Heaton's favorite of all Is the davenport duet. She has a svelte and snaky form And languld, lustrous eyes. Miss Betty Herman's heart is warm Toward a sailor boy who flies. Paul Horsman has a Varga girl, He has nice pict1.u'es of two Plus the new Modern Design girl: I've already told you who. Dewey Husson likes a good game, Of softball or of chess. Although they're hardly quite the same, This verse rhymes none-the-less. Al Jones may be a farmer boy, But there are some who know That he is neither shy nor coy, Nor is he very slow. Little is the word I shall use To describe this tlny miss. Phyll Kelch would be easy to lose: She's lost. Next verse goes like this: Pete Kelly is an Irishman, Senior class president too. Soon he'l1 be an army birdman, A bright red Irish cuckoo. Miss Connie Kidney takes the cake, With her lazy little drawl. She and Hosking a good pair make She's a nice kid after all. She's as Irish as Patty's pig She's called Calamity Jane I won't give her a dirty dig. Jane Kinney is her name. Bob Klelnstuber's very calm, And is undisturbed by girls, But a hula skirt 'neath a palm, Puts Bob's head, he hopes, in swirls. She runs a close second in shape To our Miss Modern Design. I'd call Jean Knight Miss Thirty-Six Tape,' Which, of course, is no business of mine Jim Latham owns one of the stars Now on our service flag. We hope he'1l come back wearing bars, And I-litler's head in a bag. Charlie Lombardo is the best Of old P. J.'s corn-crop. He's neither a droop nor a pestg He acts like a Keystone Kop. Miss Wlnlfred MacAlarney Is a bonny Scottish lass. She may like good Irish blarney, But still she's in our class. Antoinette Marino comes next, In this crazy, dumb tale. If she understands its text She'l1 land in Middletown jail. LeRoy Hamilton you must know With Superman's physique Has often done his best to show His lady-killing technique. I must be careful what I say About Miss Anne Cordisco. She's my editor-in-chief. Hey, Anne, you're a lady, yes 'tis so. Proud of the Irish that's in her, Nuts about Dem Brooklyn Bums Anne R.eagen's name no wrong can blurg She deserves a roll o' the drums. Mlss Hilda Morgan plans to be A blushing June bride, friends. This poem will be the death of me. Oh, well! Soon it ends. Miss Mary Scully once belonged, And may still, for all I know, To a wolfess club that thronged And howled both high and low. Miss Alice Sjoqulst's new to us, And Clara Simpson too. I hope they don't mind all this fuss. At last I'm almost through. My life, it ls an open book, That any one may read. But I must warn you, lf you look, You'll be surprised indeed. I hope I haven't offended, Now that this verse has ended. Your patience has been splendid. All mistakes will be mended.