Warrensburg High School - Hackensack Yearbook (Warrensburg, NY)

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THE CYCLONE 5 i CLASS PROPHECY CLASS OFFICERS In the year 1938, after having been sepa- rated from my classmates ten long years, it came to me that I should like to know their whereabouts. So, as my vacation was due, I planned a trip to Washington, a trip such as I had taken in 1928 with my classmates. It was on this trip that I hoped to meet them once more. As I remember, we were a care free lot who had never had anything to worry us when we were in the Capitol City except our feet. On Friday afternoon 1 took the sleeper for Washington. How different it all was! There wasn’t a person there whom I knew. After a sleepless night, I entered Union sta- tion. I knew no more about the place than I had known before. I left the station alone and was about to go uptown when I heard a cheery voice call: “Taxi! Taxi!” How familiar the voice sounded! I turned and there sat Stogie” Lawrence. He must have become attached to a taxi for he was run- ning one the last day of school for the senior class. I finally became located near the center of the city. After a few minutes rest, I went to a cafateria for breakfast where, as I was leaving. I met Ede Fuller. She was cashier there. She always said she liked the feelings of money. 1 invited her to go to Mt. Vernon with me, but she had to be on her job; so I went alone. 1 caught a trolley for that place and final- ly managed to get a seat with a rather in- telligent acting lady. She wasn’t very so- ciable though. She was all taken up with something outside or rather, it seemed that way. First she looked out the window and then wrote something, which in form looked like a poem. Finally she gave a sigh and said her poem was at last finished. And there before my eyes was our class poet, Lois Russell! That evening I went to Fox’s theatre to en- joy the evening. One of the special acts was by the “Ever-moving Woman.” When the curtain was raised there appeared on the stage before me “Mad” Fassett. Yes, she was ever-moving all right. I wonder if any one had ever seen her still even in church. As I thought a moment I remem- bered there had been a young man in the case. His name was “Franny” Thayer. What had become of him? That was an un- answered question of mine until “Mad’s” spe- cial act closed. At this time there was a loud outburst of applause beside me. I look- ed and there sat “Franny”! But, how chang- ed! His once glossy black hair was streak- ed with grey and his face—well, it was very plain that they were on friendly terms yet. The next day, Sunday, I attended church. As 1 sat there. I became very anxious to see the pastor. 1 wondered if he could be the same one they had ten years before. The door suddenly opened and in walked the pas tor in his long robe and white surplice. He had full, rosy cheeks, dark eyes and black hair. 1 thought I had met him before so I looked on the program. It read thus: “Ser- mon by Rev. Arthur Soper Woodward, pas- tor of this church.” The sermon was given splendidly. It seemed perfectly natural for Art” to preach even when he was in high school. The next surprise for me was the appearance of President and Mrs. Charles LeRoy Dickinson with their friends. 1 had heard much of them since they lived in Washington but little did I think I would see them. The thought of not being able to call them Dicky” and “Mit” gave me cold feet, so I didn’t visit them. On Monday I visited the navy yard where I was taken through the “Mayflower.” The guide was not very tall. He had dark hair and eyes and about the “straightest face that anyone every looked at. After having gone through the attractive yacht of the Presi- dent’s, I was asked by the guide to sign my name and address in a book. I had just signed my name when the serious guide broke out in a peal of laughter that startled me. There was J. D. Smith, another of my classmates. I had never seen him sober be- fore. No wonder I didn’t recognize him. After visiting a while 1 left for ny boarding house where I remained the rest of the day. My feet were even worse than the time I was on the previous trip. On Tuesday I tried to visit the rest of the places of most importance. While in the National Academy of Science I was introduc- ed to a Professor of-Science. The Professor of Science was none but “Shelly” Revnolds. I really wasn’t surprised because “Shelly” was always so good in science. After completing my round. 1 found that I had some time left so I went to the avia- tion field where 1 hired a plane for a short time. When we were hiph up, the pilot ask- ed me if I had ever been up in a plane be- fore. I said no.” He then asked me If I had ever been in Washington before. Then

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THE CYCLONE ZSL'QLjgHQ J JgL jgs. UJL J JgL 3JU8I 2£ 5? I .1 .W JTgJ JUNIOR CLASS HISTORY ’Way back in January, 1925, the forerun- ners of our class, four in number, were ush- ered with faltering steps and quaking hearts into the long looked-forward-to, yet much- I eared realm of high school. In September, 1925, we were joined by the rest of our class. There were now fifteen of us. We struggled through our Freshman year, very much in terror of the Sophomores, es- pecially Nat Lewis and James I). Smith. Outside of school we enjoyed ourselves a great deal, or thought we did. Our class- meetings were not so numerous as they were notorious, but as the upper-classmen said at the time, The flavor lasts.” It was during this year that Fern Mason, one of our members, left town. A little later in the same year, Micky McCuen decided to migrate to Warrensburgh and our class again had fifteen members. However, during our Sophomore year, we walked about with a feeling of superiority, spreading fear among the lowly Freshmen. Our one noteworthy class-meeting as Soph- omores was held at Evelyn Brown’s, where we enjoyed a marshmallow roast. I imagine no one of us who walked home that night will ever forget the spooks we saw at the old schoolhouse or the ugly do.g at Bolton’s. As Juniors we have had as yet no social activities, but mysterious plans are afoot. We ordered our class-rings in February and waited impatiently, counting the hours and days until they should come. We received them on March 20. Boy, were we happy? More cows were lost that day than any day since the Seniors got their rings last year. The one goal foremost in all our minds at present is—Washington. We are fully re- solved to strive to gain that end. Then when we are finally settled to earth again after painting Washington red. we will look forward to summer time, June-time and Commencement. MYRTLE FARRAR. REPORT OF THE SOPHOMORE CLASS The officers of the sophomore class of 1928 are: President, Constance Hayes; sec- retary-treasurer, Olive Ruth Cameron. Among our activities of the year were several parties, the first of which was given for the freshman class. The faculty mem- bers attending were Miss Lemmle and Miss Zimmerman. Games were played and re- freshments served. In return for this, a party was given by the freshmen for the sophomores. In December a house party was held at the home of Minnie Morrison. The number of people attending these parties proved that the sophomore class is one of the peppiest classes of Warrensburgh high school. JUNE REYNOLDS, ’30 -oo- THE FRESHMAN CLASS Some people say that the Freshman class is the worst class in the school, but it really isn’t, it is one of the best. At the beginning of the year we had a class meeting and elected officers for this year. Helen Stone was elected president; Walton Stone, vice- president; Ida Frye, secretary; Madalene Langworthy, treasurer. At the same time we elected Miss DuBois as our class advis- or. In October, the Sophomore class gave us a party. In order to show us that we were not as important as they, the Sopho- mores made us all wear green paper hats. Later we entertained them in return. In De- cember our class went to the home of our vice-president. Walton Stone, and had a coast- ing party, at which we had loads of fun. In April we were going to have another party at the school, but the Board of Education had a meeting there that night so we had it at the home of Dorothy Bisbee. Near the end of the year our class had its picture taken and it looked better than we expected it would. We all hope to be Sophomores next year and have as good a time as we did this year. ALICE FASSETT, ’31. ; Safi iQz

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THE CYCLONE CLASS PROPHECY (Continued) I told him of my trip many years ago. After we were safely on the ground again, the pilot removed his cap and there stood George Remington! His dreams had come true. He was an aviator at last. Every time I thought of George I thought of Helen Crandall, too. So I asked him where she was. He said she was proprietress of the leading restau- rant in Washington, and then, with a frown, he said she had sworn to be an old maid. What a funny thing for Helen to do! After visiting her I returned to my room for a rest. Early the next morning I started for New York hoping to have just as many good times as I had had in the Capitol City. I stayed at the Hotel McAlpin. All was the same as it had been before. 1 bought a pa- per. The huge headlines on the front page were thus: “Maltbie Wins Over Smith for Mayor.” Maltbie—let me see—I used to know a boy in high school by that name. So 1 read on and found him to be the Wil- liam Maltbie I had known in school. The article said that Mayor Maltbie and his wife would go to their new home immediately and that Mrs. Maltbie was formerly Kath- leen Goodrich, one of the most popular girls from Northern New York. How interesting! I visited them and was received royally. While there, they took me for a drive in their Rolls-Royce. When “Bill” was in high school he had a “Ford” and now a still bet- ter car—if such a thing is possible. On returning to the hotel. I met two more of my old classmates, Mary Webster and Laura Cameron. They had become floor- walkers in a large department store there. If I remember rightly, they acted as floor walkers when the class of ’25 were in New York and at Hotel McAlpin. On inquiring of “Granny” Lewis, they informed me that she took first prize in a bathing beauty contest at Atlantic City. Now, there was only one more friend that I was very interested in. That was J. H. Smith, the athlete of the senior class. That night as I was on my way to the Ziegfield theatre someone touched me lightly on the arm. At last I had found James. After a long visit concening his success as Presi- dent of Dairymen’s League, I returned to the hotel, contented, for I had at last lo- cated all my classmates once more. MARION N. LANE. ’28 SAILING SONG Oh, my heart is ripe for sailing and the wind is loud and high, With the crescent for my cruiser, I’ll go sail- ing in the sky. 2 I shall cast my net in the billows of the clear, ethereal light. And I’ll catch the Flaming Goldfish, smallest of the stars of night. 3 We shall touch at foreign planets, and the strangest lands I’ll view. I shall pluck the brightest star-flow’r as a souvenir for you. 4 Deep-imbedded in the rug where Austral and Boreal meet, I shall find a glowing ember falling from her fiery feet. 5 When at last I've seen the Fireplace of the Sun’s Eternal Fire, Glimpsed the Land of Fulfilled Daydreams, Haven of My Heart’s Desire. Caught a fitful, quavering echo of seraphic melody— Then I’ll turn my vessel homeward through the high ethereal Sea. 7 But alas, for fond adventure! Near the mid- night’s sea-girt land. Wait a host of black-brow’d pirates just be- yond its sombre strand. 8 They will board my tiny cruiser, take my treasures all from me; Capture my pet Flaming Goldfish, throw my star-flower in the sea. 9 They will quench the glowing Ember, set my Melody afloat, And, lest they had missed some treasure, they will even take my boat. 10 When I feel myself a-sinking through the seething waves of foam. I shall have to take to diving to return again to home. —LOIS I. RUSSELL.