Rowe High School - Viking Saga Yearbook (Lakeville, OH)

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lis Herbel has just won the title of world’s champion woman wrestler after losing four front teeth—must he she made use of those dumbells Santa Clause Jacobs gave her during the senior Christmas assembly. On turning the page, I saw the column, “Cupid’s Helper” by Jean Miller. There is an argument as to who is more famous, she or Dorothy Dix. I also noticed a picture of tne queerest looking ship and upon reading the article I learned that Charles Sippola had finally achieved his life long ambition cf flying to Mars in his space ship, The Star Dust. Still another article that caught my eye featured Archie Buie, who had joined the Navy on the day of graduation, and has been commissioned an admiral. I sighed as I tossed my paper aside and decided it was about time I get into that bunk that awaited me in the corner. As I crawled under the covers, I thought that even as great and famous as our class had grown we had neglected to make all those changes in our town we had discussed in P. O. D. class. Senior Class Will We, the 1943 Senior Class of Dear Old Rowe High, believing, (or at least hoping) ourselves to be sound of mind and body, do wish to leave this last will and testament behind to serve as a reminder of our sunny faces and winning ways, long after we have passed through these doors for the last time as students, and go out into the ranks of the alumni. And so to begin: As I wouldn’t want to wish it on anyone in particular, I, BETTY WRIGHT, just leave behind my ability to make inopportune remarks. Perhaps Frances Main can handle this trait effectively. My skill for reciting at length in class, I, FRED HIRSiMAKl, grant to Evelyn Karal. It ought not to be hard for her to tay more in class than I ever did. I, DONNA MAE CLARK, impart to that dashing man-about-town, Richard Clark (no relation), some of my excess spirits. May he have the fun out of living that I have. So that the next year’s readers of the PILOT LIGHT may have hair-raising and nerve racking mystery stories, and lesser items of a literary nature, I, ETHEL PA-LA GYI, pass along my job as feature editor to whoever is willing to take the burdensome task. I, LAWRENCE BEST, grant my talent in criminal law to Edward Shumake. If he proves himself worthy of this, he can also have my philosophical nature to supplement the first bequest. To the matter-of-fact Georgiana Kako, I, HARRIETT SMITH, bequeath my credulity. I can’t take it with me out into this cold, cruel world. She might also find use for my Southern accent. I, JEAN MILLER, will my extremely cautious nature to Shirley Blood, and advise her never to come to school if she thinks measles, or maybe mumps, might catch up with her. To whatever junior who thinks himself suited to the task, I, EMERSON PAGE, entrust the job of keeping the senior room supplied with cartoons. Incidentally—find ones that won’t need to be explained. I, WILBUR hILLYER, endow Bill Phil-ley with my pugilistic talent. Ben Roberts can testify to the might of my muscles, when the count of ten. was given him one fifth period in the senior room. My silent, respectful attitude in chemistry, I, CHARLIE SIPPOLA, yield to Richard Armstrong (that is—if he takes the subject). Maybe Mr. Ward will not find it necessary to squelch him as much as he did me. So that Mr. Deevers will have someone to reprimand in Shorthand II, I, FLORENCE PARRIS, will my studiousness in connection with that subject to the junior shorthand whiz, Carol Ward. To Helen Fisch, I, ELIZABETH HOGLE, contribute some of my reserve and lady-like ways. I have plenty, thanks, and I think that Helen can do with some. I, BEATRICE TAYLOR, relinquish my :e 17 ■

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brought us back to the home economics 100m as the boys began to stroll in for their sewing class. I noticed that their project was a multicolored “zoot suit.” 1 reluctantly left Elizabeth and got into the elevator to get to the third floor. When i opened the door I was greeted by a very iamiiiar voice shouting, “good, go, will, can, and, he,” and I hurried to see if it could Le Jane Ross’ voice I heard. It was Jane exercising her vocal cords but the racket clidn t oother her any because she was wearing earmuffs. Not wishing to bother her . nowing the kiddies would not like it—I strolled on down the hail but not seeing any more familiar faces 1 went in search of a bunk for the night. Great was my astonishment when I saw an up-to the-minute skyscraper on the site of the old Conneaut Hotel. Deciding that it must be a new hotel, 1 wandered over to ee if I could reserve a room and greater sti.l was my astonishment when I found the , l. prietress to be Elsie Gabel. She ushered me to her best room (I had to take her word ter it) at five dollars a wink. Thinking it was better than a hay stack, I accepted it and then decided to walk down Main Street to see if there were any other changes. As I was strolling along I came upon a sign which urged the reader to learn French in six easy lessens—I wondered how it could be done—from Mile Doris Kopp but I thought if anyone could do it she ought to be the one. Departing hence, I wandered » n towards Woolwcrth’s but I wondered if my eyes were deceiving me, when I saw instead, the sign, “The bine Schlaich Five a:id Dime.” I decided that they must have learned the -business from working after school in Newberry’s store. 1 wandered still further until I reached the City Hall where, of all things, I found my old schoolmate, Jean Louise Titus, resting her size ten, triple A shoes on the mayor’s desk. After chatting for awhile she informed me that the fire fighting demon, Wilbur Hillyer, is her Fire Chief. Just as I was leaving the City Hall the mayoress called for her secretary and I glanced around in time to see Florence Parris dash in. Leaving the City Hall I heard sobs, screaming and yelling and rushing out; I thought it no wonder when I saw a large neon sign across the street which read, ‘Bring your kiddies here while you work and play—Shirley Brauch, proprietress.” Be-iae her establishment 1 noticed the sign of “Jean’s Curel Shop” which I later learned i . the beauty salon of John Mononen, the creator of that new and glamorous coiffure 1 hr ;.uper-Fuzzeroo.” As it was getting dusk, I thought I would pass by the news stand, get a paper and scramble back to my room. Who should . find there grinning from ear to ear but David Jacobs; he had to keep this business on the side line so he would not have to staive between his appearances on Broadway. Me sold me the “Page Special” which is edited by Emerson Page and I soon had no doubt about its editorship when I found every other page upside down—must be he is still thumbing that well-worn little black note book. I settled myself for a nice evening of reading and turning to the front page whose picture should I find but that of the great movie actor, Philip Puffer. On leafing the legend, I learned that he had i.opj.ed into his jeep and eloped from Hollywood w'ith Bernadene. It had come as a surprise to the great mobs of women who ido ized him; even his manager and publicity agent, Richard Bunnell, had been kept in ignorance of his intention. On the sport page 1 was hit in the face by the blazing headline, “FRED HIRSIMAKI SCORES 7‘J,” and I immediately remembered those scores he had rolled up during ’43 and now’ he has broken the world’s record. I was greatly interested in a column, “Snoops With Wanie,” wrhich is jotted down by that great sports writer, Dwane Wheeler—I wondered if his position on the Pilot Light staff had prepared him for the job. Two articles interested me especially: one fea-tuied the great Olympic figure-skating star, EthJ Palagyi, w'ho is at present training at East Lake in North Kingsville for her next engagement; the other informed me that my old pal, Mary Ring, is at present working on a new set of basketball rules between her own spectacular plays on the professional basketball team, “The Lone Riders.” Down at the bottom of the page w'as an article of particular interest—Phyl- ■ ► 16

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visits to Pierpont to whoever might be interested in them. Maybe she can also time her visits when we have only half days of school. To Evelyn Dalrymple, I, ARLENE SCHLAICH, transmit my interest in overtown doings, such as the skating rink. All Wednesdays are presented to her with my compliments. As a reminder of my years spent here, I, SHIRLEY BRAUCH, leave my beautiful red shoes to Pauline Petro. Maybe she will be able to wear them sooner and oftener than I could coax myself to do. After careful, and perhaps tearful, consideration, I, ELIZABETH BAIRD, bestow my bewitching dimples on Flora Hall. I feel sure that the teasing won’t annoy her. To that junior physics student, Edward Moisio, I, DAVID JACOBS, cheerfully give my love of chemistry. If he will open his books three times to my one, Mr. Ward might appreciate him more than he did me. My strong right arm for carrying books home, I, MARY RING, bequeath to some studious junior, such as Ruth Best, who will have need of jt. I admonish Ruth always to remember “business (meaning school work) before pleasure.” I, DOROTHY RAPOSE, bestow my title of “Rosie the Riveter” to Ida Mae Jones. I often wondered if the “roses” that bloom in my cheeks had anything to do with my having this name. I, DWANE WHEELER, will my system for getting to school on time to Iris Kent. He can reform for next year, as I did for this year .... or did I just think that I had reformed ? Although I, PAUL IRISH, didn’t indulge in the pastime so very much, I will tell anyone who wants the method, my tested and proved way for successful study hall sleeping. I, ARCHIE BUIE, transmit my speechlessness in P.O.D. class to David Fisher. Maybe he will be able to express himself satisfactorily, even while under fire from Mr. Holdson. Now that I am going into the big world of grownups, I, ELSIE GABEL, no longer want my little girl talk. So I grant the privilege of using it to Gertrude Shumake, and request that all refrain from teasing. I, RUTH WALTERS, give to any Latin student my rules for successfully doing language lessons at noon. (One tip—better have a couple of smart friends who get their lessons beforehand.) To Marion Braden, I, JANE ROSS, bequeath my knowledge of Creamery milk affairs, so that Mr. Hershey will always have an informat in next year’s Consumer Ed. class. Remember—tell facts just as they are. My perserverance, I, EVELYN COLE, will to Jean Bartlett. If she tries in Shorthand II as hard as I tried, perhaps she, too, can win fame and acclaim. I, VIVIAN LANE, grant to Bernadine Yusko the right to use my pet expression— “I betcha.” Perhaps she can make as good use of it as I did, when arguing with teachers. It's quite effective. “I PHYLLIS HERBEL, do hand over my arduous duties as PILOT LIGHT editor-in-chief to Ruth Akerley, if she can get the position. Best of luck to her in writing to-the-point editorials. To that petite junior, Norman Kezertie, I, GRACE HALL, donate my black and blue socks, with the stipulation that she, at least, keep them in good order. My beautiful blond hair, I, REBECCA WRIGHT, bestow on Neiva Congdon. She might find that tip curl that slips out of place once in awhile very effective in attracting attention. As the sole gifted giggler for this class, I, JEANNE PH1LLEY, will this endearing talent to Barbara Kaiser. Remember, only laugh when everybody else is laughing. To Audrey Kirkwood, I, MURIEL ERICKSEN, leave my unwritten motto— “don’t do any lesson you don’t want to; what you don’t know won’t kill you.” I have been heard to say, quote: I am saving my brain for my old age, unquote. I, ELSA KESATIE, leave behind me to whoever the coming senior class elects for the job next year, my rules and regulations for being a highly successful senior class scribe (secretary to you). I, KENNETH ROBERTS, endow my very original notions of chivalry to Robbie Puffer. Ours is supposed to be an untamed generation, so he can carry on where I left off.