Vancleave High School - Time N Tide Yearbook (Vancleave, MS)

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Senior Class Prophecy After a trying day at school I finally climbed into bed, but my sleep was disturbed by dreams which foretold the future of my classmates. First in my dreams I saw Edmond Jennings in a con's uni- form, and holding his hand was a little red-headed girl! Then I seemed to see a big executive at his desk, It was Marshall Roberts, and he was owner of the Big R Tomato Packing Company. Behind him was his motto, The little cans are as full as the big ones, Parge, or rather Clifton Davis, popped uv next just as he does at school. For a living he was driving one of those high-powered racers, and to my great survrise he was practicing between Bluff and Little Creek bridges on Highway 59, Newspaper headlines stating that Ivan Ellis had bought the entire Ford Corporation flashed swiftly through my dream, Memphis Beauty Shop was a sign I saw next, I went in- side the shop and there was Clyte Olsen setting Elva May Ware's hair. My, what a hair-do!! As I wandered out of the shop and down the street, the billboard of the movie theater attracted my attention-- Roy Roberts starring in How Green Was My Sally. Big buildings were going up in New York and by far the largest contractor was Mr. L. Dean Faulk. My, there had been some changes made, Then I saw the funniest thing! Doris Tillman was hold- ing twins and she called them Flipsy and Flopsy!! Well, well, Bob Roberts had got a vromotion, In the land of dreams he was janitor of the White House, and he just loved his work, Suddenly a large ship, the U.8.8, Vancleave, loomed out of the darkness, andon the bridge stood the master, Captain Jimmy Flurry. This was getting interesting. I saw myself, a nurse at John Hopkins Hospital; but before I could really enjoy it, I awoke and found it was all a dream, thal

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Tilotto Song Into the midst of things. Sentimental Journey Cotors Flower Gold and White Yellow and White Roses Po em R The graduation class of 1947-48 Shall soon set sail in our small shivs of state. For the river of our life has met th. sea of life's school, And each mest embark under our own compass and rule. I shall sail north, ssys one;another says west, And to chart a straight course we each do our best. One hopefully turns south, another sails east, But the list of the wind matters not even the least. For as the poet wrote in the once long ago, Tis not the gales that determine your course, you know, But the set of your sails whether calm sea or rough, To d=pend on chance winds is not nearly enough. For while one ship drives on mid buffeting winds, Another is lost ere her journey scarce begins. So let's set our sails , comrades, and faith in God hold fast, That we'll all arrive safely in life's harbor at last. t

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Class Will We, the Class of '48, not 149 (we hove), not being of sound mind but of strong body, do bequeath these our most prized possessions. We are fully aware of the unworthiness of the re- ceivers, but we also are conscious of their great need of these assets. Ivan Ellis, bequeath my calm nature to Berton Havens. Roy Roberts, bequeath my good looks to Jerry Colona. Sorry, no mustachio} Marshall Roberts, bequeath my arguing ability to Howard Hughes. Mr. Hughes, with this you may be able to prove that fire is an animal. Jimmy Flurry, bequeath my biggness to Alabama's Big Jim Folsom. Big Jim, ,this will make 4t easier for you to kiss the babies. L. Dean Faulk, bequeath my lefthand shot to Bobby Holden. This, Bobby, plus a lot of other things, wins the ball game. Bob Roberts, bequeath my criticism of styles to Betty Dees. I definitely think the new look improves one's appearance, Betty. Clyte Olsen, bequeath my timidity to Nelda Gamblin. Don't worry, Nelda, you will outgrow it. Edmond Jennings, bequeath my interest in Ocean Springs to Florian Ware. Good luck, Florian. Clifton Davis, bequeath my laugh to Cousin Oswald. Joyce Groves, bequeath my bubble-blowing ability to Rogene Mallette. Watch out for the face, Pug . Doris Tillman, bequeath my photogenic quality to Patsy Dees. Get your mind out of the clouds, Pat , And last, we, the seniors, leave the whistle system to the teachers. If we don't wear them out this year the juniors will next. We also leave the mud holes out front for future stamping grounds.