Upper Arlington High School - Norwester Yearbook (Upper Arlington, OH)

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U I P E R A R L I N G T O N PROPHECY OF CLASS OF ’26 It was one of those nights on which every one who has a comfortable home, instinctively shivers and turns back to the blazing fire to settle down for the evening. Mayhap with a companionable book or two. or with only one’s reveries. I stood by the window watching the rain pour down, then with a sigh of—was it contentment? went back to my former position on the davenport. The fire blazed brightly, now the flames jumping high and then little tongues of flame curling all around the log. 1 grew drowsy. The flames began to shape themselves—the form of a jolly, little, old man with a long, flowing beard appeared. He held up his hand as if for silence. “Queer,” thought I, “for I am not saying a word. Then with a smile and a flourish of his hand he turned and suddenly I saw a crowded street— many shoos lined it. but the most fascinating of them all was one labeled “Modiste.” On the lower nart of the window, in tiny gold letters was printed “Mile. Shaw and Mile. Denman.” The flames leaped again—and again the little man flourished his hand, and this time it was a garret he showed me with a girl sitting before an easel. She turned, and to my surprise it was Mary Vivian. Again the flames danced over the picture, and when they subsided an English manor was before me. A French door opened onto the terrace and who should step through the door, accompanied by her titled husband, but Betty Bonnet! “How grand.” I exclaimed. I knew Betty would do something big! The little man frowned at me for breaking the silence and waved his hand. This time it was a crowded concert hall and as the crowd thundered their applause. Dorothy came out and took her seat at the piano. Her selections were some from the latest sensational modern composer. Josephine Munkel. The flames again concealed the picture only to clear in a moment to show a court room. Lawrence Wiley was seated in the judge’s chair— over on the side of the room stood a motor-cycle cop—none other than Dustin Mirick ; while on the other side among the reporters, sat Neil Estey. Dan Thomas was up again for speeding. Small tongues of fire gradually obscured the scene and then cleared. This time it was a corrider. Many doors lined the sides. Near the end was one bearing the brass plate—Professor Nye—Dean of Foreign Languages. The door beside it bore the plate — Miss Ward — Director of Women’s Athletics. The picture following was one of the exclusive office of an eminent physician. Ben Houghton. The next—an inauguration of the first lady Mayor of Columbus— Harriet Louise Strang. What was this? Why it was back in Arlington High. Here Irma was, teaching French and English. “Poor children,” thought I. SI XT HEX

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r i i» e r A R L I N G T O N MODERN In our Junior year we were reinforced with the addition of Mabel Shelley from Chicago, Russell N.ve from Lancaster, and Lawrence Wiley from Germantown, Pa. Two of our members won recognition on the Annual Staff, namely, Cornelia Shaw and Betty Bonnet. The Hi-Y was organized for the first time in our school, the Junior boys being charter members. Our representatives this year were Mary Vivian Beale on the Student Council, and Harriet Louise Strang in the orchestra. We had no showing on the girls’ basketball squad due to the fact that various other activities occupied the girls’ time. However, on the boys’ team Captain Bob Marquardt and Dick Radebaugh were outstanding players. AMERICAN In this, our last year, we have gained our full dignity and poise as high and mighty Seniors, and we are proud to be the second class to graduate from Arlington High. To this noteworthy class our president, Benjamin Houghton, hailed from North China American School, Annabelle Ward from Grandview, Robert Rogers from Bluffton. Ind., and Dustin Mi rick from North High. This year we have been more prominent than ever before in participating in the various activities of the school. First of all, we had four girls on the basketball team, Captain Cornelia Shaw, Annabelle Ward. Irma Thompson and Virginia Denman. The team was by far more successful than in previous years, due to the support given the squad and the efforts and ability of the players. But due to ill health it was necessary for Irma to give up her position on the team. Our representative on the boys’ squad was Bob Rogers. Although a new member, he was well qualified for his place at center which he kept throughout the year. The Annual staff this year was almost entirely composed of Seniors. We have given our time and effort to make this, our fourth Annual, a success, aided by Mr. Jackson, our faculty advisor. Our class play was “Green Stockings,” one of the most interesting and delightful comedies ever presented at Arlington School. Miss Mary Vance, our English teacher, directed it. and at this time we wish to extend to her our greatest appreciation for her patience and effort. Although this evening marks the close of the “History of the Senior Class of ’26”, we shall now commence to build our road to success, our ultimate destiny being determined by the inspirations, enthusiasm, and love of knowledge for its own sake, received by us after hard work in the Upper Arlington High School. —VIRGINIA JOSEPHINE DENMAN FIFTEEN

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U I I E K A R L I N G T O N A log dropped on the hearth. The glowing embers took shape and a glass encased room appeared. It was the private office of a great steel magnate of one of the largest cities, and behind the mahogany desk sat Bob! The flames sprang up. The little man vanished, and I, with a start sat up, suddenly realizing that it was very late. I went to the window. The rain had stopped and the moon had Hooded the world with silver. It was satisfying, I thought, to know that every thing had turned out so nicely for the whole class. Then 1 turned and went up to bed. not forgetting to look in on the way to see if dear, old Miss Darragh was comfortable, since the responsibility of her welfare in her old age rested upon me. —IRMA THOMPSON FAREWELL POEM Twelve long years our class has laboured In these halls of lesser fame. Gathering in the sheaves of knowledge, So our lives will not be vain. We are yet but in the starting Of that race that we must run; We alone must fight the battle, Fight it hard, till it is won. Many side paths will look easy. As we journey on and on. But these trials will seem to vanish. If the straight way we have gone. As we push on in the darkness. May there burn a stronger light. That will guide us on our journey, And crown us victors in the fight. MARY VIVIAN BEALE SF.I KXTEE.V