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

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CLASS PROPHECY By ANNE REAGEN It was just a little pain but yet it seemed to put a mist over my eyes. I felt life itself slipping away, and I had the sensation of falling, falling! How long I fell I do not know but suddenly I hit bottom. Everything was dark, but wait, what was that? Glimmers of light seemed to be trying to shine through the impregnable darkness. I groped my way toward a seemingly bolted door and came face to face with a busy, industrial city that was humming with excitement and activity. Where was I? Could this be Heaven! Why no, it appeared to be Port-not the Port of my youth but a new, enlightened city. As I made my way down crowded streets, I became conscious that something must have happened in the years I'd been away to make such a change. But what? I racked my already disturbed brain so much that it hurt. As I kept walking I heard people all talking about the mayor. At first it didn't have any effect on me but suddenly I knew he must be responsible for this new town. Sliding up the City Hall's steps unnoticed, I stood at the door to the mayor's office. As a man went out, leaving the door open, I peered around the corner and nearly fainted. His Honor the Mayor was our one and only Ed Rutan, who in '43 had suggested the theme of the classbook to be War and Hell. Talking to him in his capacity as Alderman-at-Large was no other than his good friend of past school days, Hank Schutz. To think that these two had accomplished all of this! My head felt heavy as I made my way into the street. I was startled as I saw a huge poster staring me in the face, Come tonight to see that budding actress, Jeanette Knight, in A Lover's Quarrelf' And in smaller words was the statement, Miss Knight is managed by Richard Carlson. Vaguely I recalled and wondered what had become of Howie Bullock and Al Phillips. Fortunately, I ran into an old friend of mme, Helen Burns, with her two adorable brats, who told me about some of our class. lt seems that Casanova bullock is now Dr.3 and his nurse and able assistant is Anne Cordiso. And I ask, Al? Oh, says Ellen, he's Still telling Rotary and Kiwanis about the medals he won as a Marine. And Ele2.l'l01' Carmichael is still trying to decide what CO116g8 to go to. Well, I've got to get going. I've got to take these two to the dentist. So I started up Pike street, staring at the humming activity. At the Gazette office I peered in and nearly bumped into howard Budclenhagen racing out with his camera to cover a story. Across the street I stopped for a few words with Fairmont's soda jerker, Walt O'Connor. Continuing my tour, I found the library now inhabited by Betty Gibbs while Les Davenport was manager of the Strand. Jean Waycie operated the pop corn stand next door and Charlie Lombardo was the Ritz's barberg while doing a job on a customer he told me Margaret Stening was drum majorette for the Legionnaires and Lolly Chase was Miss Port Jervis of 1950. As I wandered around aimlessly I saw two signs that interested me. One was Frank Doss, insurance agent and the other Herb Pierce, dentist. Ah! Two more members of our class. I met Connie Kidney, who's now a successful dress designer, prancing down the streetg she said if I was looking for the class of '43 I had much to learn. And as it turned out I did. Clmagine by surprise to find Georgie Mitchell as one of the Rockettes, Alberta Child as Metropolitan Open Swimming Champion, to meet interior decorator Lizzie Denk and Congressman Sonny Brush.J Yes, Connie still knew the latest gossip. An athletic club had been added to the city's enterprises and Jim Butler was managerg lwhile practicing for indoor track meet was Bill Soner and girls' tennis singles Phil Zeller.J Winnie MacAlarney was nurse to Dr. Grawi across the street from here and next door Theresa Ferraro ran a boarding house. Hilda Morgan and Thelma Emge were working at the Tiny Tot factory. The latter said Larry Murray was an upholsterer on Orange street and Bob Heal was a pin boy at the bowling alleys. ,I knew I simply had to find a room for the night so I went into Hotel Minisink and asked for a room. The clerk was George Chantg bell-hop Joe Brown showed me to my room. Deciding I was hungry, after having freshened up, I went to the main dining rooni and as my waitresses had Mary Scully and Antoinette Soletro. These girls told me that Helen Mazur was an opera star in New York and roomed with that coming artist, Grace Brewster. They told me also that Eleanor Nicolette was a well-paid secretary for the Gosh-Awful Peanut Company in Newark. As I ate I became more and more interested in the class I had left so many years ago, so I made up my mind to keep walking although I was dead tired. I passed the Rockland Light and Power Co. where I saw Fran Aber working. Across the street at Haring's gas station Bob Kleinstuber was weighing out morsels of gas. I saw a truck drive up with home-grown vegetables in it, and Hobart Roberts and Alfred Jones leaped out. I said hello and proceded on my way. I wandered into Whitney's and out again but not before I saw Alice Collins working there. Jane Kinney was at the present time nursing Paul Horsman, an aviator who had crashed his plane during a recent storm. I found out that Ira Franzblau was a song Writer, no less, and that Mary Osowick was a piano tuner. Kosh Ogrodnick was a typist for the Ritzie-Rafters' in Montague. To my surprise Greenville was also a city and Dot Heussey was teaching home ec. in their brand new high school, and Anne Trovei was a bus-driver for kids who commuted. , At the top of the hill I met Esther Decker who was married and lived on Kellogg

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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.

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avenue. As we walked down Main she said that Delmer Bicknell and Ray Burns were auto mechanics for the Ford people at Detroit. She said that Lorraine Blair and Betty McConnell were nurses at St. Francis. Also that Donnie Cole was a portrait painter in Middletown and Charac Case was playing in the Warwick band. After I had left Esther I hastened to see Port Hl where all these people had been kids. As I entered, the halls seemed so familiar. I heard a call and a gang of football fellows came running out the gym door. These were coached by Ted Salmon assisted by Dick Greer. I learned that Bob Greer was carrying on ln his father's footsteps as a policeman and that Willard Adams and Johhnle Arlow were also cops. Beatrice Gochenour and Gobby were policewomen who knew how to get their men. The school seemed proud of its former athletic heroes who had gone on to the blg time. Grathwohl was now with the Chicago Bears and Art Gray and Pete Kelly were playing on the pennant winner, the Dodgers. Harriet Gregory took Warren L.'s place as math. teacher and Shirley Hosklng was teaching music here. She sald that Boxle Vollmer and Bugsy Wagner were playing in one of the leadlng dance bands ln the country. After this I hurrled down town to see what Front street was dolng as my last passage there was foggy. It seems that Jake Morgenstern was manager of Markovlts while Tom Fell was guiding Newberry's and Antoinette Marino was working under him. Modeling had been taken up by Port's stores and in Fashlonette I found Betty Herman doing so in a neat evening dress. Frank Oliver and Joe Melol were working for Levln's and they sald that Blll Sherwood and Charlie Kaschop were working for the Erie. Farther along I found that Alice Sjoquist had a photographers shop and Clara Simpson was working for the Building and Loan. I also found George Heaton to be head of the Trl-States Telephone Co. and Alice Husson was a telephone operator. Her brother, Dewey, was a teller ln the bank. And most surprising of all was to find LeRoy Hamilton to be postmaster with Don Dewitt a mail carrier. Hamy told me that Alys Reese was a medical secretary in Matamoras and Phyllis Platt was a messenger ln Lord and Taylor's. Coming out of the postoffice I accidentally knocked against Jimmy Latham who stayed in the Coast Guard after the war because he liked lt so much. He sald that Francis Rombousek who used to be a marine was now worklng with television at Radio City and the other marine from our class, John Slgreto, was managing a shoe store ln Brooklyn. Jimmy also said that he saw Earleen Emrlch working ln the supply store at his base. Funny but somehow standing outside the post office everything seemed to dim again. I opened my eyes to see my family and the doctor standing over me. There now, said the medico, you're all right. What happened, said 1? Nothing much, you've just had a bad case of encephalitis letharglca fsleeplng sickness to youJ. Prophecy on The Prophet If I could only hurry! Due to some scientific fact as yet unknown to the intellectuals of the world, the force of gravity has deserted my poor self and I am suspended about two inches from the ground. Consequently, I'm getting nowhere ln a hurry. This long, dusty road seems to lead down the hill to that village with all the church steeples in lt, but I am not so sure that I want to go to the vlllagtq. Every window that I can see is as dark as a pocket with the exception of one which is on the very top of the tallest bulld- lng. Even lf I float along as far as the building, I'll have to cllmb all those stairs because etery elevator boy has joined the army. Maybe if I hold my breath I'll go faster. I wonder what happened to the road from which I was only two lnches away? What could be behind this door? Let me see. It says A. Reagen B. S., B. A., D. I. What could D. I. stand for? Suddenly the letters are snatched away from my sight and there before me I see a rug of white, crumpled paper. No, it couldn't be a rug: lt's too high of! the floor. Oh, there's a desk under all that stuff. And behind the desk with a bewildered expression on hcr face and with a huge green hair ribbon dangling 1-ver one ew-hroxv cruuches my old schoolmate, Allllle. I-Il! says I, trymg to break hex' icy stare. Don't bother me, says she tensely, I just got a scoop. Generously she shoves the papers on the floor so that I can sit on her desk, I presume. Very gently I perch myself beside the three gremlins, who say See no evllg hear no evllg speak no evil whenever I look at them. What are you doing here? ask I, disregarding her apparent preoccupation. Her good nature keeps her from throwing the gremllns at me. I-Iaven't you heard? screams she, I'm editor-in-chief of The Broken Record. We go to press tomorrow and none of my reporters have handed in a thing. Hurrah, shout I. We start to jump up and down together because wdre so happy to see each other, I guess. I expect to see the ceiling fall down, but lt doesn't. It starts to rain instead. I, don't want to get wet because I'm going someplace and I don't want to ruln my new butch haircut. So I leave Annie to her printing press and start to run. The raln ls awfully cold-I run faster-and faster--and faster. And then I open my eyes. Slowly, my dream comes back to me. It strikes me as belng pretty silly, but I'll bet there's some truth in lt. Look Annie up ten years hence and see if my prophecy hasn't come true.