Townville High School - Memories Yearbook (Townville, PA)

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Page12 BLUGOLD uawfweaewqhwmwamewwemwvmwwmahwfwheafgf B679asGefaGaQsawaeavaweswavswfaeaeameawfqfquawfewewfqwwaese fb Glass .L oem 'Twas in the fall of thirty-three When Labor Day rolled 'roundg And no more days could we call free, To lessons we were bound. Before the door, there stood a group Of students large and small: We, Freshmen, in a frightened troup O'erwhelmed by Seniors all, When open wide the doors were flung, We wandered down the hall: Still close together we all clung, 'Till we heard the class bells call. Days became weeks, Weeks became months, And soon we Freshmen green, Who at the door stood frightened once As Sophomores could be seen. We studied hard that Sophomore year, Also, some parties had: We never thought nor did we fear That final tests might make us sad. So many were the days that passed In fun and study, too, But we were very glad at last When that Sophomore year was through. Between the Sophomore and the Senior, ln the height of our school career, We entered in as Juniors And spent another year. As Juniors we were dignified In thought and action, too. ' You see we've never lost that pride As some are apt to do. And as the year drew to an end, We planned with care and ease A lovely banquet, well prepared, The Senior class to please. To school again we all returned On last September eight, And for Commencement each one yearned But yet we had to wait. We threw ourselves into our work And other activities, too: None did the Hallowe'en party shirk, And to our year book we were true. We've worked so very hard this year And completed a record so fine, So we must be careful not to blur That record in future time, School life has been so joyous With teachers and friends so near, Always ready to comfort and help us When clouds seem dark and drear. Our motto, Rowing, Not Drifting, ls very good for us all: If we follow our course without shifting None by the wayside shall fall. And now this happy high school life Has drawn to a happy close, And what the future holds for us Only our Father knows. -Louise Ingraham mmm QMQQQQQGMQQQQQQGWLQE Uyahmwmammmwwammwmwwmmmamw

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BLUGOLD Page11 QfeufqwawQweGahaaaasaaawaemaacawwaahf-ahahaQKSH D659HGasawevihe-4-as-anwaeawafeemevwsafqwwawhmwmawwaa X x ar J .XXX 1 ff 1 Q . NXE J lf' 4 if I Sf ' - . gp Y le , . was-gi i k' ,W Q ss 1. 2573 I' 15 a fm EE I 'T i ef 3 Q -. es f sg KN. I es , r es ss i f I 9 S i it S .1.1................l--1-l- .l....1........il.-.-.-. l........l.....L....1..1-...-.-.. MABEL WOOLSTRUM . . . Bubbles She was just the quiet kind Whose nature never varied. Since Mable came to our school she has always been tiny. My idea is that she never will grow up. However, Mable did her part in school and I am sure that we couldn't have done without her. Her tiny fingers seem to like the typewriter keys. JANET CARPENTER . . . Jan A loving, faithful friend is Jan, She always lends a helping handg Whether at work or whether at play She willingly helps throughout the day. She was a member of the Commercial and Dramatic Clubs and played a violin in the orchestra. REX HOLCOMB . . . Here I hear, yet say not much, but think the more. Rex has done that wonderful thing and graduated from high school. Although many pitfalls occurred along the way, he has succeeded and is one of the Senior Twenty. We wish him further success in life. KENNETH YOCHUM . . . Guerdon For what I will, I will, and there an end. Kenneth's main ambition was to graduate, and he succeeded. Perhaps his next achievement will be in the agricultural field. In his Senior year he was student manager of the boys' basketball team. 'bhhhhhhhMEMhkhhhhhhhhhhhhhhkhhhhhhhMSW nvbhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhikkhhhhhhhhhhh

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v BLUGOLD Page13 QWnhhfehHHHQHHHMHHMHHHHHMHQHMMHMQHHMHQQU new-nueeseaesfeaaaeseeseosfeeeeewaa-Qaewewezwawh .7 .iuroplzecy on cz Rose England! Blue skies, castles and flowers! Three weeks ago I left American soil, to see the land of kings. Today I was invited to the home of a young nobleman. After tea I strolled into the garden to see thousands of beautiful flowers-lilacs, zenias and larkspurg the sun shone brightly and as a faint warm breeze kissed my cheeks, everything dazzled, and I stooped and picked a rose, an American Beauty Rose! And in the center of that rose came a picture, a picture of a graduating class in nineteen hundred and thirty-seven. Yes, ten years have passed and the class has wandered -wandered to goals then unknown. Intently I watched our class flower, and as I gazed upon it, it faded, and on each petal ap- peared a classmate. A voice came to my ears. Mark time! Left- Right-Left-Rightg Forward march! Didl rec- ognize that voice? Yes, it was the voice of my dear classmate, Mignon Abraham, teaching a physical education class at Slippery Rock. On another petal, I see the lights of Holly- wood blazing the name Genella Shorts, star- ring in a 1947 production of Swing Time. Who is this? Horn-rimmed glasses, a book, and a pointer. Why, I believe it is Evelyn Clark. Yes! She's teaching a kindergarten class on Higby Hill. Another petal! Here is one of our boys. This is Rex Holcomb, our author. He has just finished a book entitled, How To Keep Happy Tho' Married. On this petal I see a great circus in action -elephants, monkeys, kangaroos, and clowns, but my attention becomes centered on a little group at one side, for Mabel Woolstrum is posing as the midget of the stage. As I turn the rose, I see a saleslady knock- ing at the door of a little cottage. A child comes to the door, she calls her mother and the former Janet Carpenter appears. The sales- lady speaks, Wouldn't you like to buy a sub- scription to our paper? I am Irene Hanna, an agent for the Curtis Publishing Company? Next I see that the former Grace Werling has spent the first nine years of her married life seeing America first in a trailer. What is this? I don't understand. Oh, now I know! Mr. E. H. Durfee, our principal, has retired from his position in the Townville school, and who stands in his place but Doro- thy Carpenter! Believe me, she rules that school with an iron hand. In a little shop on a busy little street in New York, I see Vivian Culver. She has made good use of her vocational training at Town- ville and handles her little delicatessen shop in true business fashion. Now this is something different, a white dress and capg I am sure it is Doris Johnson. Well, look what she is working on-a woman! Yes. Doris studied beauty culture, and with a little bit more make-up applied with those skillful hands, I'll bet that woman won't look the same. And here is Cherry. She is a nurse now. We certainly can't say those Johnson girls ' don't do their part for humanity. Well, what is this? A low rambling house with cactus growing around it. Someone is sitting on the patio. Have you guessed? It is Louise Ingraham with her cowboy husband. Incidently, when Louise went west, she took her guitar with her. On another petal I see the former Gertrude Gheringg she is in a boat with her husband. Yes, she's still fishing. On a great stage in Chicago, I hear pouring forth from a trumpet the clear notes of Schu- bert's March Militaire, played by Eva Mae Lee, our trumpet soloist. Here on this rose petal is a picture of a large, prosperous looking farm. A large sign says, Model Farm of America. I wonder who lives here. Maybe the mailbox will tell us. Let us look. Kenneth W. Yochum! That must be what Kenny was planning for when he studied agriculture so industriously back at Townville. As I look into my rose I see in the rush and hurry in New York City a familiar face. Can it be true? ,Yes, Eloise Barr has reached the height of society life. She is one of the four hundred. I think she married a Dupont. A dinner party in the White House? The grace and ease of the charming hostess sug- gests my making a closer observation. She is none other than Mary Ellen Peavyf' From the role of first in the Senior class of 1937 she has become First Lady of the Land in 1947. And last of all, I see Margaret Squier, still back in Townville. She is trying to make up her mind as to which estate she would rather hold a share in, the Slingluff, the Ellison, or the Lamb. The pictures fade-but my rose remains. Yes, for a few brief moments I have been back in Townville with my classmates. And again a faint, warm breeze ruffles the petals of my rose and I return to reality. All this is a strange world to us today, for fate is our only guide, and little do we know where it will lead us. However, we cannot stop with fate-we must keep rowing and not drifting. Katherine Bandley. Hbhhhhhhhhhhhhkhhhhhhhaoihhkhhhhhhhhgb BWaHQMMHQMHHHHHMHHQHHHHMMHMQhhhhkhkhhak