St Marys High School - Purple and Gold Yearbook (St Marys, WV)

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Class of '44 Review in Rhyme Back in nineteen forty-one A brand new class came on the run. Because of its mighty brawn and mien They were known as The Fighting Freshmen. And then in the year of forty-two We showed our colors were true blue. When we came back to even the score We were named The Slugging Sophomores. Next in the year ot forty-three Our class so very haughtily Upheld our motto in manner llaunty That we were called The Juniors Jaunty. In this historic forty-four Midst trials ne'er experienced before, We've surpassed almost everything seen Because we are The Seniors Supreme. In Band and Orchestra we took the prize Because each was good, regardless of size. At practice or festival we had others beat, And when we came home there was plenty of treat Scholastic honors added to our class reputation, Geniuses we have, and this isn't exaggeration. Latin was hard, and Trig. wasn't easy, But Physical Ed. was just plain breezy. On the gridiron, and cage floor, too, Our class had champions that really came through. They played the game in Blue Devil style While fans applauded them all the while. Last, but not least, come battle fronts tar Where the class of forty-four has many a star. Duty has called them, and school work is done Until that final battle is won. -Charles R. Hayhurst

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CLASS PROPI-IECY on everything worthy of Miss Kelly's attention. Catherine Grant, we learned, had chartered a Flying Fortress to transport herself and her seven children to Reno, where she would establish residence for a divorce. Shirley Temple's stand-in, Novella Nuzum, would arrive in New York next week for a personal appearance tour. The world's fastest typist, Anita Cornell, had just won another contest, in the course of which she had worn out four and a half typewriters fthe half being a portablel. Betty Jones, world famous authority on social etiquette, was scheduled to lecture next month at the fashionable Vermont Girls' School operated by Georgia Weekley and Betty Turner. Photographer Glenn Stewart had fallen from the fourteenth story window of a New York hotel while attempting to get pictures of a quarrel between John Hammett and his wife, and tobacco auctioneer Carlton Lyne was recovering from a case of lockjaw. Sitting in the middle of a lovely field of daisies was an artist busily painting. I thought I recognized her, and when Van stopped the car and we approached nearer I saw I had been right-it was Mary Boley, happily painting the surrounding landscape. Miss Boley had been back in St. Marys recently and so was able to give me some first-hand information. The town had been given some excitement recently when the ferry that Gordon Adams operated between St. Marys and Newport had capsized in the middle of the Ohio River. All the occupants, however, including truant officer Franklin Eckart and Bens Run's postmaster, Bruce Northcraft, had been safely rescued by the swimming pool's lifeguard, Edna West, who had been on the scene at the time of the accident. An airplane was soaring over our heads, and suddenly, while we were talking, we realized it was in trouble. While we were helplessly watching two figures left the plane and jumped into space. The plane went spinning crazily off over a nearby hill, and at almost the same moment we heard it crash, the two figures came gliding down into our very laps. They were Jack Hammond and Hetty Hendricks, now husband and wife, who had been taking a spin when something had gone wrong with the controls, and, but then we had seen what happened. The owner of the farm, who we later learned was Charles Pethel, came running out of his nearby farm house, closely followed by his assistant Paul Milhoan, to discover the cause of the excitement. A huge crowd soon gathered, and Van and I, seeing that the situation was well in hand, quietly took our leave. As we rode along, Van said: Well, I suppose you'll be seeing some more friends at the party. Everywhere we go you meet or hear of a few more. No, I said, thinking back over the past two days, that's all of them. They're all accounted for now. We rode along in silence for a few more miles, and then Van spoke the thought that was in both our minds. You know, it's strange, he said. l don't see how we managed all those meetings. I don't believe I could do it again. Nor I, I answered. Then: You know, Van, it all seems so very unreal. I wonder if we actually did meet and learn about all those people? Why I don't know, he said. If we don't know ourselves, who does ? I looked at him for a moment, and then as I had no answer for that we rode on in silence. Hoy Mitchell Buchanan Kelly Green Rea

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SENIOR CLASS Not to progress-is to regress, Not to win is but to tail. Let us strive to be successful As So proudly we all haill Let us strive to hold high honors, And for freedom let us fight. May we never lose our prestige, Honor ever Red and White. Many friendships we all cherish POEM That the past four years have brought. We've been given Faith and Courage From the lessons that were taught. Faith and Courage for the future, Freedom reign for evermore, And we proudly hail to Victory, We, the Class of Forty-tour. -Glenna Waugh