St Genevieve of the Pines Junior College - Echo Yearbook (Asheville, NC)

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ffYou don't say so! Not the Maria Correa-the diplomat! . uThat it is, that it is.77 What do you know! To think that St. Genie's has an alumna who is a diplomat! Which reminds me-I bet you can never guess who is playing for Notre Dame now. Iid like to see B. W. win that football game. Those cake pills she discovered really did wonders for her. Un second thought, I won't need to go, because here comes Dr. Barker with her Televisor Qreg. U. S. Pat. Uffj. Let's borrow it for the after- noon, shall we? Hmmm?? SIX HOURS LATER : 'fWe interrupt this broadcast to bring you a special transcription. The face of Pen Her Self appears. 'fFriends, are you losing your glow? Are you drab from sleepless nights?'7 A VDICE IN THE DISTANCE: UNO, Iim Koontz from Asheville- f'Drink Self's Liquid Neon so that you, too, can shine at nightlw S-l-o-W-l-y I turn . . . the Televisor knob. I can stand.no. more. Oh, for a nice restful concert. Say, that's an idea. Who is pianist at Town Hall tonight? Two Hips and a flop of my wings, and I am there. Did I mention a restful concert? W'ith Terrell Wfeaver sitting on that bench? Hmmmm. It seems to me I've heard that song before. Yes, yes, I have. The familiar refrain of ffMarie once possessed a small--medium sized ruminant quadruped of the genus ovis highly prized for its flesh and wool by the great composer Pasbul, from just south of Moscow, comes Hoating through the air. Of course, the accompaniment of lXIiss Weaver's ten Pekinese sprawling on the piano helps a lot. Apparently the union of music and canines, her two great loves, proves too much for the sensibilities of Martha Xidis, the renowned kennel-keep- er, who every night sings a lullaby to all the good little dogs that haven't bitten anybody for twenty-four hours. As Martha swoons, a voice in the darkness yells: als there a doctor here?7' The lights are switched on and Dr. S. Davis makes her way to the patient, who recovers quickly. Nleanwhile, lNIiss Weaver has continued playing and is striking the last-and I might add fflost -chord of the melody. There is a burst of applause, either because Terry has finished or because the widow, Mrs. Blythe Pryon Van Johnson Cnee Helen Hamptonj, heiress of millions, is coming down the aisle. I could learn to like the pianist, I think the fainting was fascinating, I was rather pleased to see the widow, but NOW the chorus appears, and I find that the girl third from the end is Joan VVitt. Air! I need air! Need air! Even outside the hall old acquaintances are at hand. Farther up the street, before an entranced throng, Frances Hahn is delivering a political speech as she runs on a refurbished Wilkie platform. Parked nearby is Dot Kilpatrick's double-decker bus illuminated with fluorescent lights stating in bold letters: ffPRESS'7+As if we didn't know that she, the editor-in-chief of the Kroyf Korn Kronicle, was waiting to interview our next Vice-President. 'Nuff said. And now ...... To Heaven! C135

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jlie merry iuefi 0 NJQQlfLC8Al fA Crash! Wham! Wahhhhl Ho, hum. There go those twins again- waking me from my usual two hours of sleep. Sometimes I almost wish I had not earned my silver wings, but had stayed on earth like a bad girl. This job of being the recording angel isn't what it's cracked up to be. How did I die? VVell, you remember St. Geniels, girls-those jokes were killing mel Up here, my days are anything but monotonous, though they always begin the same way, as the twins of the former Billie Ingle scream their Salute to Dawn. I look down on Billie in her cottage and wonder which will get the beating today--Aloysius or Reginald. In the van of the A. M. shift, Peggy Hyder, with the jitters left over from nocturnal jitterbugginl, dashes down Kenilworth Road to the Mica Plant. But wait-luck is with Peggy, and so is Marjorie Heitman's huge freight plane which stops to give her a lift. CI pause to record the first good deed of the day.j t Ho, hum-still sleepy. What would be more welcome than a song from Vivacious Vivian? I peep between two cirrus clouds to see if Vivian is at Radio City yet. No! No! Not this! They have interrupted Vivacious Vivian to bring us the voice of Miss jane Perry, lecturing on her ex- periences nursing victims of pediculosis, scabies, and halitosis. My eye wanders to the next studio, where I see the star of stage, screen, radio and television-Lolly lNIcRary, now writer, director, actress, and sound-effectress of the week-day serial-the life and loves of Peg in Large Ladies. Enchanting though this lovely actress is, I must go, for I have just remembered the luncheon being given for Asheville's own placid author, Mrs. Elmer Koontz, by Miss Mildred Felder, society leader of 1955. In- cidentally, it has been rumored that Miss Felder will wear her latest hat creation, photographed this month in Senorita. ccClass, halt! In the street outside, there is a brief pause for younger- generation aggregation while lNI1ss Jessie VVooten, martyr to a third grade, interrupts a class drill to race after her favorite CFD prodigy, Elmer, Jr. To get out of the traffic jam, I'll wing it-for a change-and reach the roof garden of Kiddledee Dive. Thatls where the luncheon is to be. Wheeeeeel I'm here. Look whois coming-the owner herself. Of all people--Mary VVilsonl And from the look of that menu she has-well, no wonder Mary Janice Ladd goes to Raymondols Reducing Salon every afternoon. Goodness, the buzzing reminds one of the old 'Cwreckv room at St. Geniels. Let's eavesdrip to learn what all the excitement is about. Shall we? 4'Have you heard? '4Noooo lv HMaria Correa is H inff u from South America this evenin 'ust to H Y s P s J attend the concert. C129 i

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Mfg W! jimi ELCA W VVe, the Two Dozen of 1945, with the characteristic expansiveness of our four-and-twenty generous hearts, and with our collective intelligent quotient hovering-we trust-as far above two thousand as it probably ever will-do earnestly, though somewhat metaphorically, grasp a pen in our tremulous hands, and hereby make the following general and par- ticular bequests: To the Sweet Young Things for whose proper development we have labored with painstaking and sisterly care-to-wit, the Class of 1946-we give: our sincere congratulations that they will be allowed to take our places as Sophomores, our earnest wish that they may spend the coming year together in such unbroken peace and amity that the only skirmishes will be endeavors to be the first to straighten up the recreation room, and our permission to have first choice at the caps and gowns. First: I, Carolyn Barker, leave to Betty Brown my interest in litera- ture and my little pillow to make her sleep more restful after the Sopho- more English class, to lXfIonk Pegram I will my clear nail polish for use during her nursing career. Second: I, Gerry Carter, bequeath to Mildred Angelo my manner of speech so that she can help lyIother Zeleznik dictate next year, and to Peggy Lynn Brown my old loafers that kick off so easily. Third: I, hdaria Correa, though poor as Saint Francis, will to Kitty Young a large stone in the hope that its mineral content will be a valuable contribution to the Class Treasury of I46, and to Sidney Landrau my enjoyment of the Philharmonic, so that next year she may take my place in the urecf' room every Sunday afternoon. Fourth: I, Florence Craig, will my Marine pin to Mev Volkman to add to her collection, and to Crestila Diaz I leave my blushability, which she might want when she is the first on the dance floor. Fifth: I, Sally Davis, bequeath to Ellen Hurley my athletic ability so that the Sophomores will win the basketball games next year, and to Mary Rose Todd, a couple of inches to add to her stature. Sixth: I, Mildred Felder, will to Jeanne Qutlaw my love of Kelly green, and also my favorite headband, which she has admired. Seventh: I, Frances Hahn, leave to Betty Curtis a greater love of art, and to Frances Felthaus the secret of success in shorthand-a pencil. Eighth: I, Helen Hampton, will to Julia Ann Armstrong my beloved deck of cards, in the hope that bridge will bring her many happy hours, in addition, I bestow upon her full permission to blow up the chemistry lab as an outlet for her overwrought emotions. Ninth: I, Marjorie Heitman, leave to Barbara McCormick a well- C143