Thomas Dale High School - Reflector Yearbook (Chester, VA)

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Sher the junior year instead of the senior year broke an old custom that had been fol- lowed many years. In May we gave the Seniors a reception in the school gymnasium. ‘There was good music and refreshments which were enjoyed by everyone. After a pleasant summer vacation we returned to Thomas Dale High School as dignified Seniors. We found that many of our former classmates had joined the armed forces and that some had dropped out of school. Among those who entered the services were: Herbert Bartle, Paul Flexon, Howard Hobeck, and James Parnell. We are very sorry to say that one of our members, Nell Curtis, died. It is with deep sorrow that we think of he r passing: We have missed her very much. In what seemed like no time at all we had completed our first semester’s work and we were now beginning our last half-year in high school. In spite of the paper shortage and other obstacles we decided to publish an annual. Arline Wray and Preston Holmes were chosen editor-in-chief and business manager re- spectively. Miss Williams and Mr. Thompson were our faculty advisors. Our first task was to get advertisements from firms in the nearby cities so we could finance our book, which was named “The Reflector.” We are proud to say that with the cooperation of everyone we raised more money than had ever been raised to publish a Thomas Dale High School annual. The two leading salesmen were Jane Houchins and Frances Fischer. Then came a gala occasion, our Class Day. Everyone forgot his dignity when we dressed as Negroes and put on a minstrel show. What a sight we were with black faces and all types of clothes! ‘That is one day we will certainly re- member. Our last big undertaking in high school was our senior play. ‘The play was entitled, “The Scarecrow Creeps,” and as the name implies it was a mystery. It was different from any play given at this school in recent years and proved to be very successful. Miss Sanford directed the following cast: Kenneth Broehm, Robert Miller, Russell Jordan, Clarence Curtis, Jimmy Vaughan, Anne Hatcher, Ales Jackson, Jean Pickhardt, Mildred Dance, Betty Lyttle. Bob Bacon and Don- ald Fuller, under the supervision of Miss Mapp and Miss Gray, built a new stage set. ‘This the Seniors pass on to future classes for play productions. Now the time for graduation has come, an event that we have all looked for- ward to for eleven years. But now that we are ready to graduate, we think of the wonderful times we have had in school and of the many classmates and teach- ers we are leaving. As we go out into the world, some to the armed forces, some to colleges, and others into the business world, we will always cherish the mem- ories of our high school days. PRESTON HOLMES: eflector

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21 CLASS HISTORY It was the night before graduation and I was very ner- vous. I was so excited that I could not sleep. As I was ly- ing there, my mind wandered back, to my first high school days. It was September, 1940, when I enrolled at Chester as a freshman along with many other pupils. We were all very proud to think that we were now freshmen, but we were also scared nearly to death. We were all classmates, yet strangers. Many of us had never seen each other before. The building seemed so large and everything was very strange. The other pupils must have had a grand time watching us going around in a daze. With the help of our sponsors, Mr. Orcutt, Mr. Bailey, Mr. Britton, and Miss MacDonald we soon became well acquainted with our new surroundings and work. Our Freshman year passed very quickly and the following fall we came back to Chester as Sophomores. ‘The class was somewhat smaller this year than it was the year before. “The sponsors of our class were Miss Pickhardt, Miss Daughtrey, Miss Sanford, and Miss Williams. As Sophomores we moved into a beautiful new building. We now began to take a more active part in school activities. This year our sports program was more extensive. As we had a gymnasium in our new building, we could now have a boys’ basketball team. In September 1942, we came back to Chester as Juniors. We felt quite happy and dignified as we were now upperclassmen. We learned that our school would no longer be called Chester, but that it was now Thomas Dale High School, named in honor of Sir Thomas Dale. Our sponsors were Miss Gray, Mrs. Grizzle, and Miss Scott. I don’t think that we will ever forget the day we put on our first play en- titled ‘““A Poor Married Man.” Mrs. Grizzle, our English teacher, directed it. It was a success from a financial as well as a dramatic standpoint. As a result of the play we were able to give to the school a sum of money to be used to improve the cafeteria. I suppose we will always remember our Class Day. “he boys came to school dressed in snappy-looking zoot-suits and the girls dressed as ridiculous as possi- ble. To climax a day of fun we presented a “jazz wedding. “é ” It was thoroughly enjoyed by all. In February the Juniors decided to get their school rings. As a standard ring had been adopted, there was no choosing to be done. Getting our rings in ‘Ohe

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CLASS PROPHECY What year is this? What is my name? Where am I? Mumpbling these questions to startled passers-by, I stumble my way along the crowded sidewalk of a strange city. I’m not crazy. I haven't got that vacant look in my eye—don’t stare at me like that. All of a sudden my left foot and a discarded banana peel, one of nature’s deadliest booby traps, meet and I am soon in a violent back flip which isn’t quite completed. The pavement is hard, but my head is harder. I fall flat, but rise again with one sprain- ed eyebrow. As soon as my head stops spinning, I realize my memory has come back, or at least partially. It is the year 1974 and this is the metropolis of Chester, center of the uni- verse. A torn slip of paper in my pocket states my predicament. I have the deadliest of all diseases of the memory—MAMOCO-on-the-CACOCO. ‘There is only one medicine that can cure me. It is the last remaining ounce of ZIMZO- CODINE, owned by a great physician, whose name I’ve forgotten. My only clue is a letter in my pocket that hints that he or she used to be a fellow classmate of mine thirty years ago. Being a man of action and in a desperate situation, I im- mediately set about locating such a fellow intellect of former years. Who is it? This question haunts me night and day. I must find him. I’m too young to spend the rest of my life as a man with forgotten memories. Ah! But don’t feel sorry for me, I know [I shall find him. It is 9 o’clock in the morning as I start out on my search. I start at this time because I am a firm believer in punctuality and thus, with my toothbrush and a 1944 Reflector, my crusade is launched. I hardly take five or twenty steps when I decide to buy a newspaper. I sit down on the curb and leaf through the contents of the paper. A familiar name soon catches my eye and I discover it is that of Ken Broehm, our new ambassador to North Carolina. I remember how Ken always was interested in world affairs. On the financial page I see that Betty Lou Carnahan, that cute dish who owned the China Shop, went broke. The Nobel prize has been awarded to Penelope Lingan for taking the wrinkles out of prunes. I next notice that Harry Dunbar is now a corporal. He joined the army thirty years ago to release a Wac on the home front. Putting the paper in my vest pocket I stroll down the sidewalk. In a fur- niture store window I see Clyde Carter asleep on a bed. He is a mattress tester now. A large sign board says that Jean Pickhardt and Ruby Williams, lady wrestlers, are having a bout tonight at Chester Square Gardens. “hex Reflector 23