University of North Carolina at Wilmington - Fledgling Yearbook (Wilmington, NC)

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' 950 cJhe QJledgling JLast Vill and cfestament We, the members of the second year class, being of comparatively sound minds and imposing memories, do hereby on this twenty-sixth day of May in the year of our Lord 1950, make and declare this to be our last will and testament. Item I. To Dean Bermon. we leave our deepest gratitude for his consideration of and for his faith in the student body. Item II. To the faculty, we leave our sincere appreciation for their helpfulness and unlimited patience. Item III. To the underclassmen, we leave Wilmington College, that, by your talent and time, you may further her flight to greatness. Item IV. As individuals, we do leave to our worthy successors the following much envied possessions : I, Robbie Benson, leave my pretty blue scooter to Betty Yopp. I, Johnnie Clewis, leave my melodious Spanish accent to all the future estudiantes de espanol. I, Mary Frances Ellers, leave my originality and ability to catch on to Helen Patellis. I, Glenn Bass, leave my bottle of yeroxide and flashy clothes to Franklin Thomas. I, Gordon Blair, leave my bag of wind and say it or die opinions to Dewitt Kennedy. We, Becky Near and Homer Council, leave just the memory of our carrot tops as we desire to keep for ourselves their ablazing appeal. I, Bob Ham Hodges, leave my miniature slide rule to any person possessing the necessary intellect to operate it. I, Harriet Smith, take my diamond with me but leave the stars in my eyes to Ruth Maultsby. I. Freddie Sternberger, after fond adieu, will thankfully leave English 202. We, Donald Blake and Bill Saffo, leave our special watches and glib tongues to Macon Rice and Randy Mclver in order that they may sleep an extra hour and still jonvince the teachers that they are only six and three-fourth seconds late. I, Carlton Rhodes, leave my co nstant nonchalance to Theresa Johnson. I, Jesse Hobbs, leave my football fig-R to Pete Lee. I, Dorothy Dixon, leave my perseverance and scholastic rating to Shirley Johnson. We, John Albino, Huek Moore, and John Dickens, leave our spot on the Dean ' s list to Arthur Stanley, Mary Porter, and George Todd. I, Claude McAllister, leave with Becky. I, Clayton Smith, leave my Sunday-go-to-meeting red tie to Mr. Lounsbury. 31

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' 950 cJne QJledglin il CLASS PROPHESY (Continued) It was an amazing game, but unfortunately I had to leave early and hurry back to the hotel to dress for a banquet given by Robert Scott, rich young oil magnate, in honor of the United States Secretary of the Treasury, Ralph Henry Johnson. Thus, two hours later, I was on my way to the Stork Club — owned and operated by Happy Corbett, his wife and thirteen children. To my surprise there was a large number of persons from the States present: Admiral Jewell; Ambassador Winters; Academy Award Winners, Lilliam Carras and Daniel Vick; Pulitzer Prize Winner, Mary Frances Ellers; and the Secretary of Interior, Dorothy Dixon. Early the following morning, I was awakened by the shouts and laughter of the populace, already surging through the streets to the arena. The excitement of the crowd swept over me. It was a big day for them, for me, for all of South America. For today the greatest matador in all the world was to kill the toros in the arena at Buenos Aires. Later, when I entered the lobby, the clerk, Paul Marley, informed me that Dr. Jack- son Moore, President of Harvard University, had just called from the police station. He wanted me to get him out on bail. It seemed that he had become innocently involved in a riot started by Bob Hodges and Johnnie Clewis over the Duke-Carolina game, but l roving his innocence to Chief of Police Homer Inman was an impossibility. I hurried out into the street. As I passed a news-stand, I glanced at the Times ' headline. Bold, black letters shouted out the extraordinary news. Gordon Blair had blasted a hole in the iron curtain ! ! Before I could buy a paper and get away, the proprietor, Nick Pantazis, cornered me and insisted that I wanted a copy of John Albino ' s new book, Adventures in Outer- Mongolia. Urgency weakening my defense, I bought the book and hurried on to the station. But all to no avail, for upon arriving, Desk Sergeant McSwain told me that Jack Lewis, young man-about-town, had already paid the professor ' s bail. Three hours later I was in the midst of the festive throng at the arena. Looking about the crowd, I spotted AP photographer Turkey Edwards busily setting up his camera for the greatest event in all of South America. At last the Grand Entry began! Mounted picadors in yellow, matadors and bande- rilleros with jackets richly embroidered in silver and gold i araded around the arena. Then amid a flourish of trumpets and wild applause, the greatest matador of all times, El Senor Matador Huckleberry Moore, bowed before the President ' s box! The next day, accompanied by The Honorable, The Chief Justice Samuel M. Jones and his personal physician, Ed Hughes, I boarded the plane for New York. From my window I could see Pilot Homer Council and Co-pilot Virgil Creech doing some last minute checking with Serviceman Superintendent, Robert Shepard. I leaned back in my seat. It had been a pleasant two days and I hated to leave. But then, I was anxious to return to New York to see the premiere showing of Robbie Benson ' s latest picture, The Paris Lover, co-starring with Hollywood ' s newest find, Martha Burton. James Trawick, Prophet. 30

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Q he CJiedgling ' 95o LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT (Continued) I, Martin Rabunsky, leave with the hope that I will get the contract to truck Wilmington College to its future home. I, Francis Foy, leave my dash and dazzle to Clark Poisson. I, Gene Jewell, with much regret, leave Dot Powell to Wilmington College. I, Paul Marley, leave my deep thoughts and serious mindedness to Jackie Cowan. We, Danny Vick and Jimmy McSwain leave our lay-em-in-the-aisle ai peal to Ralph Millar, George Shannon, and Ronald Ely. I, John Darling Winters, leave my worn and weary Robert ' s Rules of Order to Wal- ter Biggs, and the cultivation of our campus grounds to Donald Doxey, Ed Rusher, and Buck. We, Erma Hall and Lillian Carras, leave our composure and common-sense philo- sophy to Nellie Gene Smith and Betty Padgett. I, Donald Turkey Edwards, leave — Aw man, what th ' hine! I ' ll take it all with me. I, Josh Hardison, leave Wilmington College with the hope that all the eligible bachel- ors of the College will find what I found and live happily ever after. I, Lucy Gene Warren, leave my sweet disposition to George Jones and my love of a good story to Doc Williams. I, Ben Lamb, leave my inquisitive search for knowledge to Gus Stephanadis. I, Adelaide Wilson, leave my wit, wim, and wouncing witality to Olivia Costin. I, Jack Moore, leave my carefree ways and happy daze to Bruce Hinson. I, Homer Inman, leave my gift of flattery to Joe Schlegel in hopes that next year he will be capable of delivering the yellow bouquets to Miss Pickard all by himself. I, Jimmy Trawick, leave my hot rod to anyone, anyone, ANYONE — please take it! I, David Lockamy, leave my southern drawl to Bill Dobo. I, Bob Hayes, leave both my high ideals and my smelly 1 ipe to Julian Lanier. We, Happy Corbett, V. A. Creech, and Deck Jordan, leave all that remains of our sunny dispositions to the new students taking Trig. I, Robert Westbrook, leave my friendly smile and pretty brown eyes to Ed Jewell. I, Nick Pantazis, leave my easy-to-get-along-with personality to Doug Sessoms. We, Ed Hughes, Sam Jones, Jack Lewis, Bob Shepard, leave our thanks to Miss Morton for our distinguished gray heads cultivated during the hours of toil on our term papers, and — leave Wordsworth to heaven. In Witness Whereof, the second year class of 1950 do hereunto set our hand and affix our seal. Signed, sealed, published, and declared by the said class, as, for, and to be their last will and testament in the presence of us, we do hereunto subscribe our name as witnesses thereof. Signed: Second-Year Class of 1950 By: Robert Westbrook, Testator. 32