Seaside High School - Sea Breeze Yearbook (Seaside, OR)

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Wil We, the members of the class of ‘52, knowing our days as the leading lights of Seaside High School will soon be over, do hereby acknowledge this to be our last will and testament. We do hereby bequeath all our treasured possessions under the following terms: First: To Mr. Jandrall, our sincere appreciation for his ready help and advice during our years here. Second: To the faculty we will our appreciation for the priceless know- ledge gained from them. Third: To the student body we will our memories of the happy years in the halls of S.H.S., hoping they will never forget us. And now we inidvidually do bequeath certain outstanding characteristics to those who may qualify. , Fred Adolf, leave a package of Camels to Mr. Nydegger. , Bob Barnard, leave my hot air to heat the school. , Del Barnard, will my secretary books to Mrs. Miller. , Marilyn Beebe, leave for Boy's Town, Nebraska . . MMen!! Siighh. Sue Blissett, will ... if you're willing! , Jackie Boelter, leave my English notebooks to H.A. , Jerry Boyer, leave for Astoria. , Larry Cheney, leave my grin to Mr. Walton. , Lorna Lee Davis, leave . . . undecided! (Billy? Roy? Ray? Don?) , Sue Dickson, leave to get some pointers from Dagmar. , Bob Hagerman, leave . . . to vote. Rose Ann Hakanson, leave for the Navy. Mitch Hammerstad, leave my squeaky shoes to Miss Whitney. Elaine Haralampus, leave by high bowling scores to Dayle Harmon, leave my graceful walk to Jeanette Hart. , Tommy Hill, leave my delapidated car to Mr. Nafziger. , Sandra Honkanen, leave with my bridges burning. , Sally Ingalls, leave my pens, ink, and brushes to anyone who wants a job. , Hugh Kerwin, leave my shy manner to my brother Bobby. , the honorable Larry Lund, leave the twins to carry out my campaign promises. (All in the family!) , Dale Major, leave my long eyelashes with which to sweep the school. , Dave McGrath, leave my muscles to Kenny Kloster. , Alan Millikan, leave my mechanical ability, period. , Donna Nelson, will my ability to wrestle seconds away from the boys in the cafeteria to LaVerna Maine. , Jack Phillips, leave . . . let's go Joanne. , Joanne Raymer, do solemnly bequeath my ability to hold my man to Nancy Crandell. , George Sanders, leave my armishaws to the city to be used as shrimp- boats. , Art Sklar, leave my cave-man style to anyone who can handle it. . Jim Smith, leave my sense of humor to Mr. Davidson. I, Patse Uzelac, leave my place in the triple trio to another soprano with a book. , Kay Vinson, do solemnly leave for Stanford and Gary Crosby. . Barbara Wascher, leave with Larry, sorry girls! , Jack Ziegler, have already left. I I I I I, I I I I I I He B s i I I I ey ee — hw Witness: Carl Nydegger, adviser. Witness: Jerry Boyer, president. Witness: Delbert Barnard, secretary.

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History Finally, the day had come! Seventy-seven, wide-eyed freshmen began their first of four exciting years at good old Seaside High School. The last class to be initiated, they were, shall we say, cordially welcomed to high school life. “I am a lowly freshman; you are an almighty senior,” were the words that echoed through the hall for a few weeks. Initiation was brought to a climax with a harrowing assembly, (harrowing for the freshmen, that is.) Officers selected for the year were: president, Bob McVey; vice presi- dent, Marilyn Beebe; secretary-treasurer, Vicki Hart; and class adviser, Ponad Johnson. When Bob resigned as president, Hugh Kerwin succeeded him. After summer vacation, the class of ‘52 began the year under the leader- ship of president, Ray Ward. When Bill Jefferis, vice president, contracted a fatal attack of poliomyelitis, Hugh Kerwin filled his office. Other officers that year were secretary-treasurer, Sally Ingalls; and sergeants at arms, Larry Lund and Jery Boyer. Their adviser was tee Marlantes. During the year, a tropical assembly, presented by the class, was in- tensely enjoyed because of the high-pitched screams, the magic pup tent, and the singing of the cannibal dinner music. P.S. Donna Nelson was the din- ner. Marilyn Beebe was chosen princess of the Sno Ball and then was elevated to the Queen. She was escorted by Larry Lund. The fall of ‘50 was a welcomed one, ah yes, upperclassmen at last. Get- ting past the halfway mark, their junior year was a lot of work, but more than work, it was real fun. Officers elected were Jerry Boyer, president; Sandra Honkanen, vice president; Barbara Wascher, secretary; Kay Vinson, treasurer; and Lonnie Cowden, sergeant at arms. The class swelled their finances with the sale of hot dogs at the football games, ice cream at basketball games, and numerous dances throughout the year. Along in April of the year the students presented the annual junior class play. The group gathered their wits and talents and set about producing a rousing mystery-comedy, “The Case of the Missing Heirs”, which was en- joyed by the many people attending the three performances. “Moonlight and Roses” was the theme of the gala junior prom. Royalty at the affair consisted of Marlene Gleason, queen, and escort Jack Ziegler: princesses: Barbara Wascher, escort Larry Lund; Kay Vinson, escort Ray Ward; Delores Duffy, escort Paul Eckman; and Sally Ingalls, escort Mitch Hammerstad. Alas, the fourth and final year had come and the class of ‘52 had to make the most of it. So immediately they began to plan for ways of earning money with such ideas as selling coke at football games, candy and gum during bas- ketball season, and sponsoring a dance. On the night of April 5, the courtly senior ball held in the gaily decorat- ed Masonic Hall had their music provided by the “Cleveland Five.” The theme, “Tahiti, My Island’, was carried out by cleverly-constructed palm- trees, murals, fish nets, and paper flowers. Jerry Boyer held the gavel for his second consecutive year with Bob Bar- nard filling the office of vice president; Delbert Barnard, secretary; Hugh Kerwin, treasurer; Mitch Hammerstad, sergeant at arms; and Jack Phillips, class representative. The class of 1952 will always remember Sunday of May 25 when Bacca- laureate services were held. However, the occasion to end all occasions was the night of graduation, May 29. Saying goodbye to friends and teachers wasn't an easy task but those four years spent in S.H.S. will be treasured in the hearts of every member of the class of ‘52.

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Prophecy Narrator: As the scene opens in the plush office of De- tective Fred (Tight-Throat) Adolf, his secretary, Miss Betty Olson is reading back the report to the D. A. of his latest case in crime. Adolf: Go ahead, Miss Olson. Olson: Mr, District Attorney: On May 29, 1972, as I was closing up for the day, a flighty young woman rushed through the door. I recognized her as Kay Vin- son, the famous Broadway star, now known as Gine Kavin, She related to me her story. It seemed as if her husband, Bob Hagerman, famous radio announcer, had disappeared. Kay told me that thugs, whom she later found out to be Art Sklar and Dale Major, had threatened her husband's life because of a precious jewel Bob had received as a gift from Queen Sue Blis- sett of Brucavania in the territory of Slobberalloverya. In short, Kay wanted me to solve the mystery of the disappearance. I agreed to take the case, for a price, of course, and she met my terms. She was so persistent, that I start- ed investigations that night. But first I pulled out a chocolate cigarette and sauntered down to the corner for some refreshment. Bartender, Dave McGrath greet- ed me with sarsparilla. In the course of our conversa- tion Dave mentioned seeing Gine Kavin pass by with the crooked jewel fence, Ray Ward. This set my mind working. I wondered how well Gine knew Ray. I asked Dave if he had seen them before, and he said they had been in the bar a few times and had talked as if some- thing were very important. This gave me an idea, I thanked Dave for the information and went back to my office. I picked up the phone and called my underworld contact and neighborhood bookie, Hugh Kerwin. I asked him to come up to the office at once. Fifteen minutes later I heard a knock at the door, “Come in”, I shouted, and a man in a black turtle-neck sweater with the word “Bruiser” on the front entered, I recognized him as an old classmate of mine, Jack Phillips. He said that he had been a candymaker until the price of sugar went up. Now he was body-guard to Gine Kavin, and told me that she wanted to see me. I left with Jack. We started down the street and hailed a cab. As we climbed in I saw that the driver was Donna Nelson. She told me that she was married to the prominent upholsterer and venetian blind manu- facturer, Jerry Boyer. Jack then directed Donna to stop at the next corner. We said goodbye and hopped out. When I gazed around me I saw that we were in a dark slum section of town. On the corner opposite us was a newsman sitting at his stand. Despite his ragged and dirty attire, I recognized him as Tommy Hill who: nodded in recognition. In a few moments a huge black, jet-propelled sedan pulled up. We jumped in and took off. I picked up a newspaper lying on the the seat and glanced over the front page. I saw where Missionary Dayle Harmon was going to Africa to in- struct the Abba Dabba tribe. We stopped at a gas station on the way, where Lar- ry Cheney and his latest wife, Patsy Patrick Cheney were spooning over the gas pumps. Finally, we pulled up to a dinky, dark hotel. Up- stairs, Gine and I had a little conference. She instruct- ed me to come to a party the next night at the home of socialite, Elaine Haralampus. She thought perhaps I might get a lead on the case. Before I left I asked her if she knew a good fence. She said yes, there was a nice barbed wire one right outside. Very clever, Gine, I muttered. “See you tomorrow night.” The next day passed on and when the evening came I got ready to go to the party. My valet and right-hand man, Mitch Hammerstad laid out my tux- edo and shined my shoes. Gine’s chauffeur, Jim Smith, picked me up and took me to Elaine's swank Fifth avenue apartment. I met many celebrities, in- cluding Rose Anna Hakanson, famous Olympics tennis champ, and Jackie Boelter Bodeway, mother of the world's only sextuplets. By the piano, Patse Uzelac and George Sanders were singing a tender love song. I noticed Ray Ward sitting in the corner, sur- rounded by a flock of beautiful girls. In the next moment Gine had gone over and motioned to Ray. They sneaked into the kitchen, I silently followed them, trying to remain inconspicuous. The door was ajar, making it easy for me to listen in on their con- versation, They were talking in low tones about a jewel. Just then I heard someone coming from be- hind me, so I barged innocently in. Gine and Ray quickly changed the subject, but not before I heard what I wanted to. The person who had come up be- hind me was Joanne Raymer, the 3rd and Burnside burlesque queen. I asked for a drink of water and while I drank, watched Gine and Ray exchange fright- ened glances. Something was up! I asked Gine if I might speak to her alone for a minute. We walked out onto the terrace. At that moment it was hard to suspect her of any crime. But, back to business! I came right out and told Gine I sus- pected her of kidnapping her own husband. She ad- mitted to me that she wanted to get rid of him because she was secretly in love with Ray. They planned to live off the money Gine would get from selling the jewel after Bob was gone. She explained it to me all quite calmly, being the actress she is. Then she let out a short, high whistle, and Art and Dale appeared, black-jacks and brass-knuckles gleaming, The next thing I knew I was tied up in a cellar, ap- parently used as their hideaway. In one corner of the room was a bound and muffled man, whom I saw as Bob, Gine’s missing husband, At a table in the center, under a dim light, sat Art and Dale, and their gun moll, Sue Dickson. Through a door on the left, a short, dark woman entered with a steaming bowl] of hot chowder, which she placed on the table. Hmm, I thought, Bar- bara Wasche- must be their cook. I wondered what had become of her old boy friend, Larry Lund, My question was soon answered as a bent, gray old man entered the room. “He must have lived a fast life”’, I thought to myself. From the way they talked, I guessed that Larry was the caretaker and watchman for the gang. He'd come a long way since the days back in S.H.S. when he was student body president. I called across the room to Art and Dale and asked them what they intended to do with me. As a reply I got two sickly grins. Just then there was a loud commotion outside and the entire gang of hoodlums jumped to their feet. Much to my surprise, the door burst open, and Bar- nard twins entered with their squad of policemen, who soon rounded up the gang. Gine gritted her teeth and muttered something. Lieutenant Delbert ordered hand- cuffs put on her. “You tell ’em, Del! , said Bob. Bob then explained to me that Hugh Kerwin, my underworld cantact, had worried about my not being there when he came to my office, and since he hadn't heard from me after that, he called the police, who followed us to the hangout. At the police station I told my story, and Chief of Police, Lorna Lee Davis Raymond threw the bunch in the hoosegow. Police matron, Sandra Honkanen led Gine and Sue off to the women's ward. I breathed a sigh of relief and walked out onto the street. A news photographer, whom I saw to be Sally Ingalls, rushed up and began snapping photos of me, and reporter Mar- ilyn Beebe Eckman started asking me questions about the case. I brushed them aside and walked on. Another day, another dollar. On second thought, I didn't get paid for this job after all. Oh well! Period: end of report. (Signed) Frederick Adolf, private eye.) P, S. And believe me, sweetheart, it was no picnic!!