Waterloo High School - Rosebud Yearbook (Waterloo, IN)

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ISSZI TWS gnsr. gy Top row, left to right—Howard Quaintance, Harrison Gingrich, Wayne Sebert, Wayne Bowman, Paul McDonald, Howard Hine, Ralph Imes, Loren Yarlot. Second row—Dorothy Goodwin, Lois Johnson, Vera Kester, Velma Brooks, Maxine Johnson, Geraldine Rufner. First row—Hilda Kohl, Ruth Miller, Maxine McEntarfer, Helen Moyer, Dorothy Crooks, Florence Call JUNIOR CLASS HISTORY In the year of nineteen hundred twenty-eight a group of thirty pupils entered the Waterloo High School in their Freshmen year. When the class was organized they chose as their motto “Work and Win,” Class flower, Lily of the Valley and class colors, pencil blue and grey. A committee was selected to choose the class pennant which was obtained after some delay. It was hung with great pride among the pennants, and shines forth to represent our class through its high school days. During the year we lost one member but gained a new one. In September ninteen hundred twenty nine, twenty six pupils returned to take up their studies in the Sophmore year. Shortly after school commenced class pins were purchased in remembrance of our sophmore year. At the freshman reception we had the honor of serving the luncheon. As activities during the year, a Hallowe’en party was held at the home of Ruth Miller. During the year we lost one member and gained one. We entered the Junior year with twenty-four pupils. When the class organized they chose their President, Dorothy Crooks; Vice President, Howard Hine; Secretary and Treasurer Loren Yarlot; Poet, Velma Brooks. A party was held at the home of Velma Brooks for the purpose of planning the reception. It was decided that it should be at the home of Dorothy Goodwin on April thirtieth. Class rings were pur¬ chased. The Juniors also took part in the literary and musical contest. There were two members lost this year and one gained. This is the history of the graduating class of Nineteen hundred and thirty two, thus far. We hope that our last year shall be as fortunate as our first three years have been. --Velma Brooks, ’32. Page Twenty-seven

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Bullet -LJQ a UNDER GRADUATES

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THE TURQUOIS RING In a large, airy room by a sun-lit window sat an old gray-haired lady knitting a rose-colored sweater. From where she sat she could see the sun setting in all its glory behind the hills. Its pink light filtered through the ruffled curtains hanging there. After a few moments she laid down her work with a sigh and gazing at the peaceful scene before her, she fell asleep. Only a few minutes elapsed however when the door of the room quietly opened and the scamper of little feet announced the ar¬ rival of her three small grandchildren. They stopped short when they saw her sitting so, but she had heard them and opened her eyes to see them looking expectantly at her. Rob, the eldest, was twelve years old and thought himself very grown up. Janet, next in age, was a serious-minded seven-year-old and Tommy, the youngest was only four and the darling of the family. They often came to this room to listen to the stories that Grandmother told them and so today she knew what was expected of her. “What will it be today, children?” she asked with a loving smile. “Tell about the time you tried to ride a horse and it ran away with you” said Amy, her eyes dancing and her curls bobbing. “Aw, we know that one by heart,” responded Rob with a disgusted air, “Tell us about something new.” “No” put in Janet, “tell us about that ring on your finger, the blue one,” she added as her Grandmother hesitated. “Are you all satisfied with that?” the little old lady asked. They all assented, although Rob was a little dubious as to whether a ring could have a very interesting story. So Grandmother carefully handling the little turquois ring, told this story: “When I was nineteen years old the Civil War broke out and John, your Grandfather, was called to serve in one of the armies. His sympathy was with the North and so despite my pleadings, he decided to join the Union army. This nearly broke my heart for I was of a proud Southern family, as are you children, and because I dearly loved the South I was very angry and despondent over John’s decis¬ ion. When it came time for him to leave, he called at our house and asked to see me but I refused. John knew however, that deep in my heart I still loved him and so he left this little ring for me with this message; “This was my Mother’s. Please wear it for my sake, and whenever you look at it remember that our love will live on forever, despite our sorrows and cares.” How could I keep from wearipg it after that? And I loved him more than ever. During the years that followed, I was busy embroidering linens and making plans for the home I hoped that John and I might someday have. I wrote to him quite frequently and in every letter I told him how much his ring helped in the long years of being apart. At each glimpse of it, my heart filled with joy, and I went happily about my work. Once during the last part of the war. he was wounded rather badly and he was released from the hospital a week before the war ended, so he came directly home to me. I cannot describe the feeling that I experienced when I knew that he was coming back, and we made his homecoming a glorious event. Even my father who despised Unionists, welcomed John home. After the excitement of our meeting had subsided a little, I told John that his ring had been a bond between us and that I would wear it always as a symbol of our love. Now he is gone, but he will live in my memory forever and will remain a burn- Page Twenty-eight