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

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new acquaintances and school life became entirely familiar, the senior class of ’41 swooped down upon us, innocent victims of their inventiveness. However, we survived the initiation, breathless and embarrassed, to sing “God Bless America” led by Mr. Curie, our home room teacher. Several notable accomplishments stand to our credit as freshmen. For the first semester the Pilot Light banner remained in our possession. One member, Robbie Puffer, made the varsity basketball team. On April 2 we were joint hosts with the sophomores at an April Fools’ party. Tragedy struck during our freshman year when a bus load of students was struck, but none were lost to the class permanently. Our sophomore year saw us under the direction of Mr. Saari in the study hall. Remember how the back desks had to be cleaned each week? Imagine Barbara Kaiser as a schoolmarn, teaching a group of unruly elementary students who wanted to see the circus. That’s just what happened in the sophomore assembly. This, too, was the year we entertained the frosh at a weiner roast at Camp Peet. Later on, -we sponsored a skating party for the high school. We were thrilled to be able to order our class rings in the sophomore year and in the junior term of school, we were proudly wearing the Viking head in all its glory. At the close of our tenth year of school, last goodbyes were said to Mr. Saari who was entering the United States Army. Imagine our delight when, under the watchful eyes of Miss Hunnell and Miss Drown, we discovered that one room would accommodate us. To guide us through our junior year, Barbara Kaiser was elected class president; Gene Spieldenner , vice president; Shirley Blood, secretary; and Gertrude Shumake, treasurer. In addition, Georgiana Kako was elected to represent us on the Student Council. This year was begun with the junior class play, “An American Is Born,” under the direction of Miss Drown and Miss Hunnell. The roles were capably interpreted by Barbara Kaiser, Helen Fisch, Ruth Akerley, Ruth Best, Flora Hall, Shirley Blood, Gertrude Shumake, Richard Clark, Gene Spieldenner, Robert Puffer, Joe Greenfield, and Edward Shumake. We have many memories to be recalled in the years to come. Near Christmas time we were pleasantly surprised when Miss Drown entered the state of matrimony. Six of our members, Georgiana Kako, Neiva Jean Congdon, Barbara Kaiser, Flora Hall, Bernadcne Yusko, and Bill Philley, became proud possessors of a capella pins. Our Junior class was also proud that three of our number, Barbara Kaiser, Shirley Blood, and Edward Moisio, were elected to the National Honor Society. In the latter part of our junior year, we were bustling and secretive. The reason? The Junior-Senior Prom was in bud, and on April 14 it blossomed forth into a gay evening featuring an entertaining program and delightful dancing to the music of Gene Spieldenner, Philip Puffer, David Fisher, Bill Philley, and Dean Beckwith in the setting of a Dutch garden of tulips and flowers. The pleasure of crowning (Harriet Smith and Phillip Puffer Queen and King of the Prom was all ours. The fall of '43 came, and with it, our senior year, the last milestone of our twelve-year journey. Thirty students assembled to travel the road together. Class officers were elected as follows: President, Robbie Puffer; vice president, Bill Philley; secretary, Georgiana Kako; and treasurer, Gertrude Shumake. At last came our turn at initiation. With Ruth Akerley as initiation chairman, each “freshie” was forced to perform for the enjoyment of the whole high school. The entire high school, as well as the seniors, were disappointed when the candy sales were discontinued. Many a sweet tooth remained unfilled. While we were enjoying our last summer vacation, Richard Armstrong went off to Buckeye Boys’ State and came back with a hatful of interesting experiences which he related to us in assembly. Hats off to a Buckeye Boys’ stater! Our senior assembly went off with a bang! An original script by Carol Ward and Ruth Best was presented by the entire class. The story humorously revolved around Edward Shumake, a Professor who spent eight years experimenting with a rocket ship. In the second semester our class membership decreased to twenty-nine. We were all sorry to see Pauline Petro leave and missed her friendship and lively sense of humor. Continued on Page 35 14 I would not change it.

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Senior Class Poem When we reflect of times not long gone by Where we did toil and jest in equal share, A sense of enduring gladness seems to vie With the memories of Rowe that are everywhere: Our stately school then springs into the fore: Its halls that sound and echo laughter gay, The classrooms and the books revealing lore, How much we’ll miss them, now we cannot say. Already we’ve begun to miss our guides And friends, our teachers, who have been so kind; But, when we think of classmates, each confides That sad thoughts of parting with joys are twined, For as we leave one way of living now And look ahead, we’ll revere our days at Rowe. m Class History Weren’t we thrilled, though? We could hardly stand still while Mother scrubbed behind our ears and gave the last minute inspection and an affectionate pat. But, before we knew it, many of us were on our way to school for the first time, escorted by mother, big brother or sister, or bravely starting out alone. A few had attended kindergarten, but actual school life in the first grade still had its appeal. No matter how, we arrived all ready to start on our new venture, embarkation upon our twelve years of study. After a couple weeks had passed, we could march home, count to ten, and say our ABC’s, for which Mother sometimes smilingly rewarded us with a cookie. It wasn’t long before we could read and spell, and how the pages of “Pig Pig and Goose Goose ’ “The Little Red Hen,” and “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” became frayed around the edges. To some, it seemed that teacher labeled them as mischievous and naughty, and misfortune lurked around every corner, but that was soon forgotten when the school picnic at the park and summer vacation loomed ahead. The first year passed by rapidly, and preparation began for the second. The schools at Famham, Amboy, and East Con-neaut were opened and soon there emitted sounds of cheery voices greeting one another. Occasionally, some little incident would happen to highlight the day. Frances Marn and Eunice Hicks can tell you about the time they ran away from Rowe to see the Amboy field meet. Marion Braden still remembers the time she was caught throwing paperwads at Amboy and had to make five hundred, throw them all over the auditorium, and then endure the tedious task of picking them up one by one. Remember, Bernadene, when you fought with Georgiana and Helen in the seventh grade at Farn-ham ? Realizing high school lay not far ahead, we entered the eighth grade. What a relief not to have to study geography at Amboy? Time passed quickly, and it wasn’t long before eighth grade state tests were concluded, and diplomas for successful completion of elementary school were our cherished possession. Waving a last goodbye to elementary school, we entered Rowe in September, 1940, fifty-four strong. Even before our If thou remember’st not the slightest folly 13

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Class Will “We, the 1944 Senior Class of Rowe High School, believing ourselves to be sound of mind and body, do wish to leave this last will and testament to those who desire to follow in our light, erratic footsteps. May our successors, aided by the following bequests, be ever mindful of their achievements. I. Joe Greenfield, bequeath the sarong 1 so gracefully demonstrated in the junior play to Marjorie Tinney. If she can be a pistol-packing mama, she can try a Dorothy Lamour role. To Jo Anne Wright I, Evelyn Dalrymple, grant my vocal cords so that she can easily be heard, not only above the clamor of a heated argument, but also at both ends of the corridor at once. I, Frances Mam, bequeath to Richard Olson my ingenious ability to type. There are two necessary articles for a typing class. One typing eraser, and, two—typing paper. Don’t forget them and your success is in the bag. So that you will never again have that troublesome lock of hair, I, Richard Armstrong, give to you, Frank Fogg, my ability to make lustrous, deep ocean waves. Too bad you don’t have a younger sister, Frank. My fondness for murder mysteries, I, Carol Ward, bestow upon Pauline Cole on the condition, Pauline, that you read them during the hurly-burly of the noon hour, as silence is terrifying. To Kay Graff I, Ida Mae Jones, leave my ardent love affairs as I know you will cherish them forever. Being an expert on love, I can tell you that love is very healthy and that love sickness isn’t what its’s cracked-up to be. So that Allan Ritari will never be drained of jokes, I, Helen Fisch, will my exceedingly long list of anecdotes. May he amuse his class as much as I have mine. I, Richard Clark, impart my Sinatra appeal to Alex Elonen. However, Alex, this means you must not gain any more weight. Now you know why I stay on a strict diet. Because I wouldn’t want you, Delores Davis, ever to be without typing erasers, I Norma Kezertee, entrust to you the secret of my continous supply. You must be sure, though, that there are no spies around when you obtain these erasers. I, Dora Zeppetella. grant to Clifford Osborne my drawing ability so that you will always be busy in classes. Warning—not too busy, now! Since I wouldn’t care to have Mary Lu Torrence exert herself, I, Bernadene Yusko, will to her my knowledge of shorthand. May you be successful with this knowledge and pass “a’’ dictation. So that Tom Kantola will not have any trouble securing kisses, I, Bill Philley, surrender to you my osculatory commando technique. I have it well worked out. To Gordon Turner I, Ruth Akerley, yield my ability to deliver outrageous oral reports without a front tooth. As a result of this missing link I also discovered I had a delicate topic for discussion. Because I, Robert Puffer, desire that next year’s class be ruled well, I leave to any one that feels physically able to endure ihe mental wear and tear, the gavel. For those who want a few extra winks in the morning, I, Shirley Blood, grant you my solution. The clamor of the incoming buses will always manage to wake you by devotions, giving you at least forty more winks. I, Evelyn Karal, will my position as songbird to Arnold Mackey. It is much easier to study when you are singing. It keeps up the morale. To Dorothy Cook, who also walks to school every morning, I, Irus Kent, bequeath my alarm clock. It has successfully gotten me to school on time all of twenty times this year. That talent for fouling in a basketball game, I, Audery Kirkwood, bestow to Dorothy Holbrook. Perhaps, Dorothy, you can figure out a system whereby you will become invisible—that is to the referee. My technique for getting into classes without assignment, I, Ruth Best, yield to Dean Beckwith. It’s a deep secret, Dean, so don’t mention it to a soul. I. Georgiana Kako, will my deep appreciation of moron jokes to Altha Bates. Since I realize that she also enjoys many moments of hearty laughter, I know she will appreciate this soul-satisfying talent. So that the senior class will never be without a mummy, I, Edward Shumake, transmit this so-classed ability to Clair Albeit you have deserved 15