St Marys College - Dove Castellan Yearbook (St Marys City, MD)

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194S Ctc Castellan yoJ- MiMMjasHuaoauyoiio - m s$ m w? 55 .s? »»; disposition to Joan Lee, a wonderful roommate and a swell friend. I, Joy Dench, gratefully bequeath to Ginger Borg- man, the Marine Corps — she can have them ; and to Lucy Anne Parlett, my little sis, the best of luck. I, Margaret Fowler, hereby will the office of Vice- President of the Senior Class to Ginger Borgman; my good times with the Marines at the U.S.O. to Pat Mahone ; an atlas to Kip Valentine to guide her on her trip around the world; and to Lee Ribble, my room- mate and friend, a pict ure of Ralph in the hopes that her dreams will come true. I, Vivian Gabler, will and bequeath to Bertha Stone my hugs and kisses in the hope that they bring her someone as nice as Mike; hockey season to Gertrude Horsmon; and to all the Sem-Fems a happv married life. I, Frank King, will to my friend and partner in crime, my fatal charm and way with St. Mary ' s women to Eddie Crouch, and my parking space to anyone who wants it. I, Elaine Leach, will the office of treasurer of the Senior Class to Norma Lee Mason and to Elaine Symons a hand at the bridge table every night after dinner. I, Minetta Lowery, alias George will the Presi- dency of the Commercial Club to one who is interested in Business; to Nupie Baumann all my good times at St. Mary ' s; to Trish Hayward my good figure. I also will the mimeograph machine to J. J. Rose, and to Nupie and Trish I give a lifetime interest in a tea concern. I, Josephine Nicodemus, to Ginger Borgman my seat on the Court in the hope that she will be lenient in dealing with the Juvenile Delinquents, and to Betty Chandler my ability to get to breakfast on time. I, Jane Pitchford, hereby will my ability to under- stand the workings of our Federal Government to Eddie Crouch ; and my suntan to Rachael Early so she will not have to work so hard. I, Marcie Prince, will and bequeath my Saturday nights and seat on the U.S.O. bus to Anne Dennis; my basketball membership on the Board to Virginia Burnside, and my ability to conduct French Club in French to next year ' s President. I, Barbara Ann Ross, known as Babs, hereby will the office of President of the Athletic Association to my friend, Emily Manlove, with the sincere hope that she gets through the year without gray hair; to the Inquiring Reporter on the staff next year a long list of subjects, plus a good ear for use at the Keyhole ; to my room- mate Kip Valentine, I say Bon Voyage in the hope that we will meet again soon. I, Mary Jane Shepard, hereby will the Vice-Presi- dency of the Athletic Association to Mary Beth Early in hopes her arithmetic is good ; to Anne Dennis, my little sister, my ability to pass history tests, and to Norma Lee Mason a watch to keep track of the time on Sat- urday nights. I, Anne Smith, known better by Smitten, leave the Presidency of the Senior Class to Rachael Early with hopes for a Christmas Bazaar, and to the Junior Class I will my sophistication to split up as they will. I, Dorothy Throckmorton, will gratefully my love of horses to Jean Dixon; my ability to play basketball to Elizabeth Thomas; and my math book to Andrew B. Shorter. I, Bctte Ward, hereby bequeath the Secretaryship of the Senior Class to Patricia Hayward, my ability to play bridge to Sally Turner, and my apple honey to any- one who lacks eighteen cents. I, Mary B. Wessels, leave my musical ability to Nancy McClenahan; my sore feet to next year ' s hostesses at the State House; and my seat in the May Court to next year ' s representative. In witness hereof, we, the Seniors of St. Mary ' s Fe- male Seminary, Junior College, have subscribed our names and affixed our seals on this 5th day of June.

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QCfje Castellan 1948 lljillSiiasililmigjli truly beautiful. From all reports she surely had a busy and wonderful time. We knew from the moment when we first laid eyes on Patricia Anthony that she was destined to be our May Queen, and as beautiful a one that we could ask tor, too. Pat was certainly provocative and sweet in her white wedding gown as she carried a huge bouquet of spring flowers with pink roses. It was impossible to icstrain a sigh of awe as she gracefully ascended her throne. As princesses from the Senior Class, Peg Fowler, in a dress of violet, and Mary B. Wessells, in one of aqua, were both lovely and charming with their bou- quets of spring flowers from our own Garden of Re- membrance. Just the following Monday it was that Pat Anthony as Queen, Betty Baldwin, Apple Blossom Princess, and Anne Smith, president of the Senior class crawled from their beds in the wee hours of the morning in order to be in Annapolis in time for a 9 : 30 radio broadcast. Yes, the Seminary went on the air with an interview by Jane Day, who was also a student of S.M.S. at one time. It sure was a thrill to hear their voices come over the radio and really made us feel important. Later in the morning on the same day we heard our own Glee Club broadcast and did their singing sound beautiful! Sounded more like professionals as though they sang over the radio any day of the week. As the year draws to an end we are a little sad. think- ing back upon the many happy times and good friends we have made; and we hate to think that for many it means farewell. Never shall we forget St. Mary ' s and always will we be proud to say — We ' re the SENIOR CLASS of ' 48. Graduation ' is a never-for- gotten memory — ! Parting is such sweet sorrow! See you Alumni Week-end, 1949! ■d-ast vViil Mna Uestamcnt of the Senior L ta frtJJ We, the members of the Senior Class of St. Mary ' s Female Seminary Junior College, of 1948, being of sound and disposing mind, do declare this to be our last will and testament. To Miss France, our deepest appreciation for her efforts and guidance, with sincere wishes for a pleasant and happy future. I, Marie (Shorty) Andrews, hereby will and bequeath the Presidency of the Samadra Club to Mary Beth Early; to Joan Lee I leave my pineapple pie and coffee; to Virginia Burnside I give my A-Rating in History, plus one-half interest in my Fairy Godmother. I, Patricia Anthony, will my Secretaryship of the Athletic Association to Jeraldine Rickert in the hope that she will always get the minutes done on time: my quiet nature to Mary Lou Pinder; my love for sports to Carlotta Pardini; and an all-year-round ticket to Chestertown to Betty Anne Smith. I, Betty Baldwin, leave to Sally Turner the Vice- Presidency of the S.F.G.A.; to Carlotta Pardini I give my beloved brother, Ray; and to next year ' s Princess my good times at the Apple Blossom Festival. I, Dorothy H. Baroniak, will to Betty Crough my great passion for S.M.S., my daily excursions to the coke machine in the hope that there will be an ever- l.iNting supply so that you may have a monopoly on cokes in Social Science class and that vour thirst will always be quenched! To Cecilia Flip Ridgell I will my quiet and demure way, my excuses and undisturbed conscience for being slightly tardy for fifth period classes after a quick trip to Jacks ' for lunch. I, M. Joann Boner, do hereby bequeath to Carolyn Sue Baumann courage and patience to fulfill her duties as President of the S.F.G.A. To my little brother, Earl Compton, I leave a schedule of school hours in the sincere hope that he remembers that Quiet Hour is not at 10:30 on Sunday night; and to Kip Valentine a life-time seat on the Navy side for the Army-Navy game. I, Gloria Cawood, hereby will and bequeath to Earl Compton my five years ' experience in trying to make the Assembly period on time. To all incoming day students, I leave my happy day-hopping days at St. Mary ' s. I, Betty Critzer, leave my old rocking chair to Virginia Burnside in the hope that she ' ll find it com- fortable: the key to the Treasury of the Athletic Asso- ciation to Betty Resh; the Vice-Presidency of the Samadra Club to Ginger Borgman with the hope that the tea service can be found at all times; permanent court membership to Bettv Dawson; and Art Editorship of the SIGNAL NEWS to my friend with such ability, Rebecca Hartshorn. I, Elizabeth Davis, do bequeath my presidency of the Home Ec. Club to Virginia Burnside, and my happy

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fEfje Castellan 1948 SJ sy?3y?isaBH Bu?aMs riHJi3 Senior j ropli wheat ft The dawn of June 5. 1968. promised a hot and sultry day. Tucked in our bags were our tickets aboard the I ' SS Americana, which would carry us to the Dominican Republic, where we, Elaine Leach and Bette Ward, would assume our duties as director of public health and American Consul for the capital city of Cindad Trujillo, respectively. We have just stepped from our train in New York ' s Grand Central. With a few hours left before sailing time, we decide to look about the city, primarily to satisfy our epicurean desires, so earnestly cultivated since our days at S.M.S. Strolling up Fifth Avenue, our attention is attracted by a most ostentatious sign, Ye Olde Country Cafe. This ringing a familiar chord, our womanly intuition urges us to advance beyond the threshold. At this point we are greeted with open arms by our old S.M.S. Classmate. Andy Andrews, for she and her little monster are now the proud parents of a whole chain of restaurants. In the confusion and excitement of re- union, menus were mislaid so we naturally order pine- apple pie and coffee. Once more attempting to hasten Father Time ' s prog- ress, we pause in our sojourn to take in a matinee. Characteristically ignoring the marqee, we slip grate- fully into our seats in the darkened theater, only to be abruptly returned to the moment at hand when ten minutes past the appointed time the curtain rises, re- vealing the star as none other than our own Betty Bald- win. Between acts we hurry backstage to reminisce with another of the Seminary ' 48 graduates, only to find also there awaiting the appearance of the prima donna, her ex-roommate, Mary B. Wessels, one of America ' s foremost young scientists. Mary B. also finds time to capture the hearts of New York ' s dashing playboys and give piano concerts for charity. Declining the tempting invitation to join them at cocktails, we slowly wind our way through this fasci- nating city only to suddenly halt in front of an impos- ing edifice housing the Institute of Shy Athletic Blonds. A trifle amazed at so bold a caption, yet un- daunted we enter and are welcomed by an efficient and charming receptionist . . . she can ' t be, but she is . . . Doris Thompson. Following the initial shock of reunion, once again, now completely entangled in red tape, we finally are allowed to enter the hallowed halls of the director of this novel institution. ... 7 Boner, now Dr. Joann Boner. B.S.. A.B., Ph.D., M.S. We learn that the nucleus of this profession was formed at S.M.S., due to a certain lack of cooperation from a certain Academy plebe. A bit tired from the day ' s excitement, we trudge wearily back to our hotel and buying a paper, we al- most immediately see a very familiar face on the front- piece . . . why, it ' s the first account and inside story of the secret confines of Gloria Cauood ' s laboratory. Gloria, according to this report, is conducting research in the manner of the ancient alchemists. Turning to the society section we are again startled to see our old classmate, Babs Ross, only the name is no longer Ross, but Sheats, she and the better half are flying to the Hawaiian Islands on their second honey- moon, if our report is to be believed. Glancing at our watches we dash to the pier, just in time to . . . whew! We made it! Deciding to stroll on the promenade deck, we see ahead of us a curious collection of passengers, apparently surrounding one central figure. Approaching this quaint little group . . . realization dawns ... for we see Betty Critzer painting in her best surrealistic manner . . . not a cover for the Signal News, but alarm clocks and baseball bats in the mode of Salvador Dali. Again succumbing to the thirst drive we enter the lounge, when immediately we sec, surrounded by a bevy of otherwise innocent females, none other than Frank King fascinating these beauties with his tales of how General King won the war single-handed. Passing away a few tranquil hours gazing at the calm blue ocean, we proceed to the dining room and are seated adjoining a table set for 13. In the middle of the first course, the party occupying this table arrives. Why it ' s Marcie Prince and Skip and their own inimit- able football team, otherwise known as Mr. and Mrs. Norris Pilchard Sterling, Jr., and family. The skyline of Miami comes gradually into view — our trip is more than half over, but our gallant little band pauses momentarily to wave to Jane Pitchford and Dot Throckmorton still basking luxuriously on the sands — a long way from the St. Mary ' s shore. Lunching on the patio of a Miami restaurant, memories of dear S.M.S. again return to us through the medium of Joy Dench, now a glamorous fashion model attired in the latest resort togs. Dashing up the gang plank, we pause for breath, astounded, for an additional passenger has boarded the ship in the course of its short stop over at Miami. George Lowery, no less — having left Fred industrious- ly constructing a bridge across the Atlantic, she has turned her undivided attention to the organization of an international Commercial Day. Tired from our strenuous day, we walk listlessly down the corridor, but we stop abruptly before an open state- room door and see Dr. and Mrs. Ross MacCauley, who are bound for the tropics — the doctor for the benefit of humanity, and Mrs. MacCauley. the former Mary Jane Shepard, known to her Seminary classmates as Shep, because she heard that it is possible to acquire