San Bernardino High School - Tyro Yearbook (San Bernardino, CA)

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1- ■:, Here are the details for which you asked: 1. My class, 1898. When we left, desolation reigned, and it took years for the school to recover. 2. The size of my class? — 24. Eight hoys and si.xteen girls. Just two apiece, though I never had my share. 3. My favorite teacher? What a question! Jovial S. D. Briggs, perhaps, or dear old D. B. Sturges, or petite little Grace Sutton, just out of college, or stately Ermina Ferns. I liked them all, but Dad Richardson really takes the prize. 4. The influence of San Bernardino on my life work? Tremendous! A real school It was, and is, setting the pace for others to follow. 5. Inspiration? Whatever stimulus was needed to start my own professional career came from the teachers in the old school and from the new worlds opened to be through the subjects I studied there. 6. My message to students of the present day? Yours has been the opportu- nity to attend a school with a glorious past, a brilliant present, and a wonderful future. You can best repay the debt you owe to the institution by so living your lives that the school will be proud of you. May your high school memories be as bright and as happy as mine! Very sincerely, FRANK H. BOREN, Superintendent San Mateo Schools, S. B. H. S. ' 98. Miss Anna Lee Doran, Alumni Editor, Tyro Annual, San Bernardino High School, San Bernardino, California. Dear Miss Doran: You asked me as an alumnus of the San Bernardino High School, for a mes sage to the students for publication in the Tyro. Your request awakens many fond memories. It is now more than a quarter of a century since I was the editor of your paper, and much water has passed under the bridge since then. Much progress has been made also both in the Tyro, in the high school, in the old home town, and in civilization itself. In the first place the student body of my day was about three hundred as against eleven hundred fifty now, while the ' 01 graduating class was not over ,| ,, three dozen in number. From this day of automobiles and aeroplanes I look back curiously to my Freshman days when our annual class picnic was begun in two tallyhos, each drawn by four prancing horses from Brazelton ' s stables. In this day of million- dollar theaters for the display of all-talkie motion pictures, I marvel at the thrill I received at the Nickelodeon, operated in a darkened storeroom on Third street, displaying pictures that moved across one ' s vision with an uncertain jerky motion. In an adjoining storeroom I received my first impression of oratory, listening to William Jennings Bryan ' s Cross of Gold speech, rendered on a cylinder phono- graph record, months after its original delivery, and heard indistinctly through ear-pieces fastened to the head. Contrast this with the present nation-wide broadcasting of important political speeches which instantly catch the attention of millions of listeners. As I look back on my four years in high school, I think I did receive marked and valuable impressions of my teachers. Each of them had something of value to give, but dear old Dad Sturges impressed high ideals and principles very strongly upon all who met him. Prof. D. B. Bnggs, teacher of biology, taught the Stanford system of initiative and self-reliance which proved of ines- timable value in later years. He impressed those that came in touch with him with the idea that industry and determination will gain success in the end. That - ' ' l has proven to be my most valuable acquisition during my high school days. i Sincerely, PHIL. D. SWING. 11- 19 2 9

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Alumni Anna Lee Doran, Alumni Editor, Tyro Annual, San Bernardino High School, City. Dear Miss Doran: A quarter of a century has rolled by since I graduated from our high school with the class of 04, and many indeed are the changes that have taken place dur- ing that time. The school was then in the old building at 8th and E streets, and as I lived across the street, I generally waited until the last gong rang, and then ran to school, jumping the hedge on the way. As the hedge was about two feet high, I made it all right, sometimes. There were about two hundred students in the school and twenty-three in my graduation class, si.x of whom were boys. Our graduation exercises were held in the old pavilion in Pioneer Park, which at that time accomodated most of the city ' s social functions from prize fights to church fairs. The one outstanding member of t)ie faculty throughout my high school years, the one who endeared himself to every boy and girl in the school, was dear old Daddy Sturges, who taught Math., and for whom the Sturges Junior High School was named. Other well-remembered teachers were Kate Alaska Hooper of the English department, and Miss Sherman, who guided us through the intricacies of Caesar, Cicero, and Virgil. Now I fully realize that your rising generation of world-beaters isn ' t looking for any advice from us old fogies, but as usual with us oldsters, I can ' t resist just a couple of bits: 1. Stay in school as long as you possibly can, and see as much of the world as you can before you marry or start to settle down. And then, 2. You will find that there is no place in the whole world where the skies are so bright, or the opportunities so great, or friends so true, or life so wholly pleasant and worth while as right here in our own San Bernardino. Good luck and lots of it, DWIGHT F. TOWNE. H Miss Anna Lee Doran, Alumni Editor The Tyro, San Bernardino High School, San Bernardino, California. My dear Miss Doran: It has been nearly thirty-one years since my class of ' 98 left the old building at 8th and E streets for the last time and scattered to new fields. To me high school had been a wonderful experience. I had liked my teachers, my fellow students, and my work. Football had claimed its share of my attention, and I had had the fun of captaining a team which had maintained the old reputation of never having lowered its colors to a high school team. I had been lucky enough to get my recs to go to Stanford, and the world was bright ahead of me. Yes, I had been on the Tyro staff too. That paper presented me with my wife. She, Inez Mee ' 99, and I were participants in a benefit play for the Tyro, taking the parts of man and wife. We liked it so well that we decided to make a reality of it in 1903 and have kept it up ever since. The fact that she was Alumni Editor in high school while I was in Stanford gave an excellent excuse for the many letters between Palo Alto and San Bernardino — wholly on matters of alumni business, I assure you. ii m . 19 2 9 iuiiiiiiuiinnn - h A

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Miss Anna Lee Doran, Alumni Editor, Tyro Annual, San Bernardino, California. My dear Miss Doran: I appreciate the honor you have done me in placing me among the selected few of the alumni whose ideas anent high school days you think worthy to be printed m the Tyro. The one fly in the oinment is my inability to seek out the Tyro editor who refused my work in my far-off school days, so that I might emit a loud, long, triumphant crow! Never before was my work ever solicited by the Tyro; hence, with pleasure I accede to your request. 1 seem to be able to recall a solid box-like red brick building sturdily present- ing an academic facade to the rising sun of knowledge at the corner of E and 8th streets. There was a cement foundation to the south, handy for trystings, and where we frequently exposed our pompadours and high collars to the ruthlessness of the camera, which successfully nipped all subsequent lying in the bud. And there were broad steps in front where the usual flirtations (the only form of education; I understand, which has never gone out of fashion) frankly took place. Always having been extremely short on statistics, I can ' t say definitely, but probably the entire school at that time would scarcely equal in number your gradu- ating class. Very likely, inspiration subconsciously was sinking in, but I had no conscious awareness of being particularly inspired by anything or anybody whilst passing through this phase of my experience, unless it was by a certain man for whom I had conceived a violent passion, a man called Will Shakespeare. School was pretty much of a chore to be got through with as little effort as possible. There are more or less vivid remembrances of a secret society which caused me as much excitement, mortal anguish, and illuminating introduction into human nature as anything since encountered in life. I also have more or less distinct recollections of schoolmates, many of whom I ' m proud to state I can still claim as friends; and of teachers, some of whom have passed on to better schools, perhaps, than any we possess in this world. At that time we were fortunate in having for a principal an old-school gentle- man and scholar who instilled something into us besides book knowledge, and before whose memory I lovingly bow the head. There was an English teacher who certainly has never been surpassed in ability to influence her pupils with a high enthusiasm for the delights and usages of the English tongue; and a Latin teacher who made declensions fascinating and awakened in me, at least, a passion- ate desire to investigate Dido ' s amours. I also recall, still with palpitations, a godlike masculine being who in my Freshman days was as charming a study hall policeman as was ever tormented by a bunch of heartless young monkeys. Of course, I shall never forget the night of my graduation; partly because I was selected as one of four to declaim an original essay which I called Two Queens, (Lady Macbeth and Penelope of Ithaca) and Dido would also have been included, since I had such a crush on her, had not the powers that were, deemed her an improper lady, and partly because I was convinced that this was the happiest night of my life. And finally from the haze of memory, the Tyro emerges refulgent. For it was the Tyro — then a literary monthly — which started my writing career. It was a Tyro editor who, judging my stories to be unworthy of the high literary stand- ards of the paper, refused to publish them, and who finally did so only under the broadside and overwhelming verbal bombardment of the aforementioned English teacher. Do you wonder I was partial to her? The Tyro! The first to refuse to print my work. Long may it hve! As for giving you a message. My dear young lady, I wouldn ' t dare. Is it not rather for the graduating class of 1929 to give a message to us of the early part of the century? With every good wish to you and your classmates, I am. Cordially yours, PAULINE STILES. TYRO