State High School - Analyst Yearbook (Terre Haute, IN)

Page 9 text:

THE FACULTY First Row: Left to Right Frances Williams, Ruth Temple, Meribah Clark, Gypsy Wilson, Eleanor Forsythe, Olis Jamison, Florise Hunsucker, Herman Truelove, Wenonah Goshorn, Harold Bright, Mary Reed, Leora Crispin, Olga Combs, Hazel Kelso. Second Row: Left to Right Joy Ellis, Anna Carle, Bertha Fitzsimmons, Helen Price, Hilma Weaver, Flora Smith, Hallie Smith, Kathryn Kennedy, Paul Headdy, Wayne Schomer, Marvin Bell, James Carr, Ralph Miller, Fred Harris, Caroline Kelso, Walter Woodrow, Mary Olga Peters, Rhoda Foss, Lucile Viche, Margaret Gillum, Gertrude Ewing, Ralph Rogers, Paul Wolf. . , - If I ,,-,,,,ff,,.T. . ,E

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K... PRES. RALPH N. TIREY DEAN J. ERLE SENIOR SPONSORS ADMINISTRATION GRINNELL DR. OLIS JAMISON MISS GERTRUDE EWING MR. PAUL WOLF

Page 10 text:

WALTER I-I. WOODROW On behalf of the Senior Class and the whole school, we, the editors, wish at this time to pay tribute to a member of the faculty who has served our school faith- fully for many years. He is, as we know. retiring from teaching. Many of our par- ents and teachers were under his guidance While in high school. His unique method of teaching classes has been not only edu- cational, but inspiring. His dry wit and intelligent hunfor has often given us mo- ments of hilarity. His philosophy of life, which he has expressed throughout his many years of teaching, has been a great in- Huence in the broadening of our minds. We do not have words to express our gratitude and appreciation of having known and studied under Mr. Woodrow, therefore, we say, Thank you, Mr. Woodrow, we shall miss you here at school. THE CYCLE From the slime of the tidal beaches, At the line of the land and sea, From the ooze of the salt-marsh reaches I have come at last to me: Thus spell geologic pages In incontrovertible lore How I left the abyss of the ages, And clambered upon the shore. In a colloidal cell in the sea-mire- 'Twas there, I am told, I began, As a worm, then a fish, then higher, I passed on the road to man: Thru reptile and mammal ascending- It matters not when nor how, Nor what in the future is pending- I am come to what I am now. What sword o'er my head is suspended I'm much too happy to mindg Or if by Omniscience I'm tended, Or a Heaven that's deaf and blind : Each hour brings joy, tho its fleetness ls hastening life to its closeg Each breath comes laden with sweetness What matters it whither it goes? For me, no past is unpleasant, No future can bring me dismay, Such rapturous throbs fill the present, Such delight 'tis to live but today, That when life's fever assuages, I've neither request nor demand, Though I should return for the ages Where the sea rolls up on the sand. Walter H. Woodrow.