Steamboat Springs High School - Galleon / Sailors Log Yearbook (Steamboat Springs, CO)

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Class $ropf)eq On a warm evening early in spring of the year 1944 an old gentleman sat reminiscing on the past. He won- dered why, at this time of the year, his thoughts always turned to a by-gone date. What had happened in the past that had made this time of the year the best of all times in his mind? Somewhere back there in his younger days something had happened. What was it? Suddenly the old man’s dull eyes brightened and his form uncon- sciously straightened, he remembered. It was the grad- uation of a class of twelve. That had been thirty years before. lie saw each mem- ber, young and ambitious, ready to conquer the world. Then the old man’s memory traveled down the long vista of years with each member to the time of the present. There was Audrey Light. She was the smallest of that class, but how her mind had soared. To her had been accorded mighty fame. Audrey had become a world-renowned artist, the foremost of her day. Xext was Lorna Stukey, the honored one of that class. She had done enough in thirty years to deserve that honor. She had led and won the cause for her state of Colorado and dissolved the coal labor unions. Xow she worked at the head of the government of the state. Those coal labor union strikes had been terrible. So many men had lost their lives in them, while others had been terribly wounded and mangled. But through it all Mina Laramore. the great nurse—yes, of the class of 1014—had spent many hours untiring and unceasing in her beautiful work for the wounded. Many were the sufferers she had cheered. A smile came over the old man’s face as he remembered Helen Beck. She had been a joyous, determined girl, and what a courageous woman she now was. Her happy nature still showed as of old, when she. at the head of the Salvation Army, led in the triumphal hymns. Xothing was too hard for her. Then there was Jessie Brooks. Who would ever have thought that she would become a composer? To have seen her in her youth one never would have believed that she would ever present to the world, anything like the operas she now did. And the world had received her with great enthusiasm. And there was Bertha Jones. . She had become a chorus girl. How the people shouted when she appeared on the stage. Her wonderful voice always took posses- sion of every soul that heard her. Many were the hearts that were gladdened by her many songs. The old man's face grew very earnest as he thought of Van Gooding. He had certainly been a surprise. Who would ever have thought in the old days that Van would become a minister? His ministry had marked a new era of thought. This wonderful ministry had brought about this change after many years of deep and conscientious study. Then the Sentinel of that class—Harry Love! How thirty years had changed him! The once studious, silent boy was now a courtly, talkative dancing master. His

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Oh. Helen Beck can dance and sing. And Lorna’s always good, So “Chubby” points to her and says She acts as Seniors should. And Mina, whose bright, curly locks Which all the youths adore Will love and cherish and protect From scissors evermore. The brightness of our Senior class Is reflected back on us By Audrey Light, sweet Audrey Light. Delightful little miss. Another fair and charming maid We’ll praise up to the skies. Shy, sweet and pious Anna Merrill, With soft, brown, lustrous eyes. And now. in saying our farewell. We’ll kindly rack our brain And leave some valuable advice To save our schoolmates pain. Our first advice to Juniors is About our letter S— In last September, you’ll remember. Our supper, well. I guess! It was “hot dogs” and pickles too, Buns, coffee, and some cake. The Freshies liked it all so well They wanted more beefsteak. So, next year, heed not Freshmen wails— It surely does not pay— And put up sign boards all around: “Small Freshmen stay away.” But if you cannot keep them off Just get some Hupmobiles, Go to Elk River as we did, Away from infant squeals. That joy ride we can tell to you Was certainly some trip. The rest of school looked like a fool When we gave them the slip. Now, Sophomores, we hate to try To tell you anything; You think you’re good, perhaps you should. But some day you’ll go “bing !” And when you want to entertain Just ask the Junior’s how For they will tell you what they did When they gave the Junior Prom. Now last, but surely not the least, Our Annual you must see If educated or refined Or learned you would be. Caught “That’s a nice-looking fellow who’s just come.” said the young man who was dining with his best girl; “Is he a friend of yours?” “Yes. indeed. T know him well,” laughed the maiden. “Shall 1 ask him to join us?” “Oh. George!” said the girl, blushing; “this is so Sudden.” “Sudden? What do you mean?” he asked in surprise. “Why—why, that’s our young minister.”

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grace was unequaled and people came fro111 far an(' neal to be taught the “Gravy Ladle Ten-Step. The old man's face grew mirthful and he chuckled softly to himself as he thought of Marjorie Dins. Time had transformed her from the laughing girl to a severe spinster-like maiden. She hated men and mice alike, and with glowering countenance and thoughts aloof she whiled the days and years away. And Marion Burroughs! What a talker she had been when a girl; but how suddenly and without warning she had taken up the lonely, lonely life of a nun. Now in silent meditation she walked the convent halls. What convent was it? Oh, yes, he remembered, it was the one that the Countess La Von had built. 1 he Countess La Von, no other than the once sweet, lovely girl, Anna Merrill, and who. now reigned a queen among court ladies. Last, and most famous of that class, Russell I almei, the great physician. People everywhere called him then deliverer, for he had obtained a sure cure for tuberculosis. Yes, it had been a great class, each member a con- querer in himself. The days were never too long for any of them. Neither time nor work hung heavily upon their hands. The old man sighed happily, it was a pleasant memory. JESSIE BROOKS. Composition on Men Men are what women marry. They never go to church, perhaps if they wore bonnets they would. Men are log- ical, also zoological. Men and women sprang from monkeys; but the woman sprang farther than the man. A hungry man and a slighted woman know no bounds. Class Poem Into the mists of the future Our class of “Fourteen” goes. What Fate may have in store for us God in His wisdom knows. For some there'll be wreaths of laurel, For some the crosses of thorn, But after the night comes the beautiful light The bright and glorious morn! Our feet have now come to the crossways. Will each of us take the right road? For often a chance may make us or break us. Life drives with a merciless goad. For some the path will be narrow And steep and hard to climb; But at the rainbow’s end is the pot of gold, And the fruits of toil are sublime. Some times in the days that are coming Our paths may meet once again; It may be in gladness and sunshine— It may be in sadness and rain. Through all we have stood by each other. Through sickness and sorrow and joy. For the gold in us all is not dross Though it may be mixed with alloy. We have been very happy together. But it cannot be so always; For now we are leaving behind us Our merry, care-free school days! Farewell to our school and our teachers. We’ve done our best, as you’ve seen. That you may remember us kindly Is the wish of the class of “Fourteen.” MARION BURROUGHS.