Sheridan High School - Trailblazer Yearbook (Sheridan, MT)

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□ X THE SENIOR CLASS Class Prophecy A hurricane in the form of a cowgirl came rushing into town a short time ago. It was Laura Braach just back for a short time from Hollywood where in 1932 she’d landed a job in the film-twisters. She whooped with joy as she shouted to everyone that she meant to become a star, and proved part of her prowess by rolling a cigarette with one hand while she brushed her raven locks out of her eyes with the other. Do you remember that Dyer girl? The one who was going to become a Campfire-girl specialist. Well, she really did and she’s been in it now for. let’s see. about fifteen or twenty years until just recently here she announced her oethrothal to Clifford Bullock after twenty years of courting! Well she’ll make Clifford a nice wife and she will certainly know how to raise her girls! And now I’m thinking of Clifford. He got in good with his future papa-in- law of course, and he’s been helping in the Doctor’s office as apprentice for quite a spell now. Although the sight of blood makes him deathly sick, he’s really going to make good, so Doc. says. He’s located a nice little home-site near the cemetery, so he can look over his field of work frequently, remarking now and then that “so-and-so surely was a tough case, but I almost pulled him through.’’ Ain’t science wonderful? Old Walter, Matthew, was always a horizon chaser. He wrote a little book on his adventures but it hasn’t been as much of a success as it might have been because of spelling and grammar. Well, you can’t say Mrs. Duncan didn’t try. He about drowned trying to cross the Hellespont like the author of the “Royal Road to Romance.” Greatly to his young wife’s surprise and relief he settled down for good a short time ago and got a job as sorting clerk in his father’s store. His wife’s only worry now is to get Matthew to step in and ask the Boss for a raise. Oh, he’ll make it yet. I guess. That Bud Green was kind of a case. He never studied in his high school days ’cause he thought he’d be a farmer and what was the use. He didn't be- come a fanner, but bought up a little barber shop up in Brandon and he’s still operating it with Theresa Walter as a helpmate. She sure turns ’em out beau- tiful. He had a bad case of palsy which sort of cut down his trade for a spell but he came out of it shakingly. In fact his trade came back so fast that he didn’t have time to attend to his owti personal needs so he just let ’em grow. Within a year, as a result of over work and worrying about the new shop across the way. opened up by his old rival, Carl Reissinger, the black hair disappeared and snowy locks followed and at the present time you can’t tell if it’s old Walt Whitman or William Cullen Bryant. But he’s made the cash. Dave Rossiter. not so much himself, just diggin’ around in the hills, pros- pectin’ here and there, workin’ now. loafin’ then, prospering here, failing there, hopeful today, discouraged tomorrow. Not much of an existence but he's satis- fied with it and he’s the only one concerned. He makes enough to pay back his grubstakes and he’s bought a radio and several airplanes—I mean small models. He’s working on how to eliminate the breeziness of them. He never could stand commotion. Several years ago he withdrew to monastical life, but he couldn’t stand it long without the soft bed he was used to. Well, they’re a pretty fair bunch, not a one is down and out. not a one gone up the flume, all touched bed rock and all hit granite , but as I said be- fore. they're a pretty good bunch.

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THE SENIOR CLASS Class Prophecy Date 1953. I sat before my fire-place and contemplated. I looked back over the years and contemplated some more. The old bunch, the senior class of ’28—where are they now, what are they doing, who has succeeded? As I thought, I could but smile with pride. The outlook wasn’t so gloomy, so sad. as I had at first been led to believe. In fact the condition was positively funny, almost comical For instance there was William Armitage. He’d shifted about a good deal, been kinda a happy-go-lucky, jack-of-all-trades sort of fellow for a good many years. First it was a plumber, then a piano tuner and from there to one thin and another, until here in the last year he’d gone back to the old sheep ranch on Corral Creek and settled down with Mabel Rhodes as a wife. Some ranch, too, with her wisdom about woolies added to his. He was one of the most promising and determined fellows in the class and yet he’s just now showing his colors. It shows just how little can be prophesied from high school, doesn’t it? Then there was Madeline Flick. “Flicker,” we always called her. I’d kinda lost track of her for a good many years, but here just a few days ago I heard about her, and what do you suppose I heard? Well, sir. she’s in the missions down in Mexico, what do you think of that? And another thing, she’s single, a typical old maid and is beginning to get sensitive about the matter, too. so I heard. But nevertheless, she’s doing fine work among the greasers A You should see their homes! T Then, too, there was Mary Walter. Her first story could be made a short riffle. She lost in her first love affair and staked out second claims. She had to dig for a living so she started up a French millinery shop here in town and they say she knew her stuff. After a bit. wampum got scarce and she took in washing; but the dampening effects chilled her husband and they laid him away here a year or so ago. Then the grieving widow remarried and this time it wasn’t to wear callouses on her hands. No, not much! A life of ease was the outlook for Mary and that’s what she’s living right now. having retired from public activities. She lives in Twin Bridges. I next thought of Joe Garrett. You know he used to work in the butcher shop after school and Saturdays; and you also know that he worked his way up. until now he’s a boner in the Hansen Packing Co. I heard somebodv say the other day that they saw him in a swimming suit and that without the least exaggeration they thought he was a tattooed man from a circus in for a swim, he was just that scarred up like old Trader Horn, you know Can you imagine it? The knife had slipped just that many times, but it didn’t affect his advancing at all. Well, here’s luck, old-timer! Mary Marsh married LeRoy Flick the year she graduated. The young couple started for New York in a few days with an old Ford and a trailer full of old shoes, rice, and wedding presents. In the big metropolis thev soon found their niche in the photographing business and progressed rapidly, thanks to Mary’s experience in taking annual pictures. An old side-kick cf mine dropped in to see them and wrote me that there wasn’t anywhere to sit down because every space was filled with pictures of the kids, in-laws. etc. I also heard that they have started branch businesses in Paris, London and Rome; and prosperity looks them in the face. I ccme to Loretta Willis and here’s fame. Through her efforts as a stu- dent and graduate of Harvard (they’re letting girls in now) she’s reallv earned her success. She’s dancing behind the hi h lights on Broadway and the fans have gone wild over her. She draws something like $20,000 per week and owns nn old castle in France. Of course she’s changed h r name and nerhans a lit- tle more often than discretion sanctions, but she’s living life while she’s at it. She never did do things by halves, even in high school.

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THE JUNIOR CLASS