Walnut High School - Walnut Tree Yearbook (Walnut, IL)

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ffisEF... THE WALNUT TREE ..... YESTERDAYS By DOROTHY CRAGIN It was at the close of one of my busiest days in that great metropolitan hospital that I stole away from the increasing cries of suffering humanity, into one of the more secluded restrooms. There I flung my weary body down among the pillows of a large davenport which sat facing an open window. Mad the day been one of California’s bright and sunshiny days, one that so characterizes the state, I could have looked down into the very bosom of the Pacific. But rather, it was one of a somber gray ness, the type that Longfellow loves to describe in his poems. All the outer world, as it were, was filled with a rain and a mist. As 1 lay there, I could hear the little raindrops trickle off the roof above and come rushing and leaping madly down the massive marble columns, hurrying away to the stone pavement below. As I lay there, watching the little sea on the sidewalk swell and grow, I was enveloped in a mythological entrancement and I soon found myself standing on the shores of a great and unknown body of water. While I was wondering what had happened and what might happen my eyes were directed toward the western horizon and there in the distance 1 saw a fleet of ships. As they drew near, I perceived that each was a large white ship with flowing sails and masts of royal blue, and as they drew still nearer. I discerned that the prow of each was marked with a “28.” Then I knew what it all meant! It was an on-coming reunion, a reunion that every Senior class must some day have! Tongue can never tell or pen can never pen the unspeakable joy which seized me. My doubts, fears and anticipations were all soon answered, for within a few moments thq entire fleet of twenty-five ships had dropped anchor at harbor, and there, in the cabins, on the gangways and platforms. I discerned the familiar faces of my dear old Senior pals. To any reader or listener, my story would be very uninteresting, if I did not. at this point tell concerning the little band of pilgrims, who they were and from whence they had come. After the general tumult of greeting was over, our ex-president. Clyde Conley, lined us up just like he used to back at Walnut High, and each one made ready to tell the story of his life. Clyde, himself, is terribly old and bent; this, no doubt, due to his strenuous life’s work. For the past fifty years, he has been playing his oldtime role in

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THE WALNUT TREE 6. I, Darlene Miller, do bequeath my fair complexion to Helen Baumgartner. 7. I, Carl Golden, do bequeath my adoration of ministers’ daughters to Lois Plapp. 8. I, Loren Hoge, do bequeath my uninterupted slumbers to Bobby Gerbitz. 9. I. W ilda Tornow, do bequeath my dainty silhouette to Ivvilla Otto. 10. I, Berneil Hasenyager, do bequeath my pianistic ability to Verner Birkey. 11. 1. Homer Hopkins, do bequeath my Ford to Mr. Fagan. 12. I, Dorothy Cragin, do bequeath my angelic disposition to George Taylor. 13. I, Marion Borop, do bequeath my fair countenance to Charles Odell. 14. I. Edna Johnson, do bequeath my Titian locks to Elton Conley. 13. 1, Lee Buzzard, do bequeath my Cleopatrian complexion to Gyneth Glafka. 16. I, Margaret Scliuyf, do bequeath mv Latin “.Vs” to Dick Ross. 17. I. irden Kerchner, do bequeath my daily visits to the office to Margaret Baumgartner. 18. I, Evelyn Gallentine, do bequeath my syncoptic powers to Vance Plapp. 19. I, Orin Scoughton, do bequeath my polished manners to Cullen Mc-Gonigle. 20. I, Charles Stone, do bequeath my Sunday school record to Et na Kirk. 21. I. Viola Dimmig, do bequeath my mythological knowledge to Bernice Rlack. 22. 1, Clyde Conley, do bequeath my popularity to Kenneth Hoffman. 25. I, Pearle Tornow, do bequeath my innocence to Richard Brewer. 24. T, Edwin Wilson, do bequeath my collegiate wardrobe to Harry Stewart. 25. I, Pearle Tornow, do bequeath my innocence to Fichard Brewer. 26. I, LaVonne Johnson, do bequeath my happy future to Virginia Stone-braker. Know ye all people, by these our presents, that we. the Banner Class of our Alma Mater, having spent our youthful lives in studying and having fulfilled our contract, do now publish this, our last Will and Testament. In the presence of whomsoever is present, we do sign, seal and deliver this our final document. —THE SENIORS. W1 19 2 8 ■r.-sr Paye twenty-five

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THE WALNUT TREE It looks Like Rain.” Edna Johnson was there, too, her pretty Titian locks now a snowy white, for she had followed high school intent, and has been teaching Latin in the University of Columbia all these years. Virden Kerchner is the same old live wire and every night between the hours of six and seven lie puts the whole world to sleep with his “Bedtime Melodies,” broadcasted from his radio station at Tampico. Ambitions of being a school teacher were long ago discarded by Pearl Plum and she is now the happy, contented matron of an orphanage which she founded on the sunny Mexican border. They say that the old C. B. and Q. railway crumbled into decay and it was necessary to supplant it with an electric system. Lee Buzzard is the engineer of the line, and every morning he is met at the depot in Walnut by Marion Borop, the pilot of the “Speedy W est,” a little mail plane which he uses in carrying the letters and packages from W alnut to Ohio. Ferne Akerson is still the sweet little thing she always was and they say that the butter which she makes in her dairy at Sterling is the finest on the market. W'ilda Tornow sidetracked a lot of life’s stormy paths for she married a handsome professor at Herrin, Illinois. One of the most perplexing problems that ever troubled the minds of the national officials has been solved. For years and years there was considerable inaccuracy about the signaling systems of the lighthouses along the Atlantic coast, but when Orin Seough-ton, the famous baritone, offered his services all was settled. Now, whenever danger is approaching. Orin, from his little stool on the top of the lighthouse, cries out in his deep, rich voice and the danger is immediately averted. La Yonne Johnson ran a lottery stand for a short time after graduating, but seizing the prize she was after, she settled down to enjoy married life as only the deserving can. Viola Dimming stuck to nursing and proved a genius in her profession ; but more than that, for she has written and published a dozen volumes on “Modern Mythology.” It was very evident during school days that William Epperson liked outdoor work better than the studying of books and this desire he maintained. He is now a road commissioner. and they say that he keeps the road between W alnut and W va-net in such fine shape that his six little Willies have no trouble in getting to basketball games, wherever they may be. It is necessary that he keep the roads thus, because each son is a star athlete. Geraldine Bowen, as you ail know, became the wife of this industrious gentleman and the mother of the six dashing youths. Pearl Tornow sought fame on the stage and is universally known as the “Titian Jazz Queen. Darlene Miller says she is kept busy making gym bloomers for her husband’s physical training class. Her