Waynesboro High School - Skyline Yearbook (Waynesboro, VA)

Text from Pages 1 - 112 of the 1941 volume:

4 i I PRESENTING ANNUAL PUBLICATION OF WAYNESBORO HIGH SCHOOL WAYNESBORO, VIRGINIA DEDICATION Because of her supreme gentleness, her unfailing inspiration, her friendly interest in all our problems, joys and sorrows alike, we attempt to express sin¬ cerely our deepest appreciation in dedicating the 1941 Skyline to Miss Mary Greene. FOREWORD Poised on the skyline of life, we hesitate and glance back on the colorful panorama of the past. We laugh and sigh in turn as we remember the glories, the failures, the happiness of struggling over obstacles, rushing gaily over the open fields, climbing upward. The obstacles, the black squares in our checkerboard of events, are far away now and appear smaller some¬ how, while the fields seem greener, pushing the dark spots into insignificance by their brightness. Working diligently, playing . . . . ; gaily, sadly, always togethe r, pushing ever upward, we are here, ready, waiting eagerly, we turn. That we might not forget—so we present the Skyline. CONTENTS: Administration-Classes- Organizations-Athletics-M FACULTY AT WORK Coach Mavity Miss Sutherland Miss Greene, Mr. Fentress Mr. Caldwell Miss Wiley Miss Sutherland Mr. McChesney Miss Haneline, Mrs. Davies, Miss Willis Miss Kyle ADMINISTRATION MESSAGE to SENIORS Commencement time has come again! The fruits of the sacrifices that have been made and of the self-denials that have been practiced have ripened. It is a great day—Commencement Day with its gifts and joys, its atmosphere of achievement, and its spirit of promise and expectancy. But then comes the day after commencement, and with it the acid test of reality and life itself Let me remind you that in the final analysis, life is a conflict and the struggle is no sham battle. It is never won by shadow boxing, but by putting your very best into whatever you undertake. My message to you is that you put Christian character first in your life. In so doing you may live in a conflict, but you will be the person who can get on top and stay there. It has been a real pleasure to work with you these four years and to note the many improvements you have made. I congratulate you and wish for you continued success and happiness. That man is blest Who does his best And leaves the rest So do not worry.” FACULTY PAUL BATEMAN, B.E. Eastern Illinois State Teachers College Industrial Arts IRIS HANELINE, B.S. Bowling Green College of Commerce Commercial Education HELEN SHULAR, B.S. Madison College English, History, French CHARLES CALDWELL, A.B. Roanoke College English, History, General Science CHARLES P. CHEW, B.A. Bridgewater College Physics, Chemistry, Trigonometry, General Science ETHEL DAVIES University of Virginia Biology, Geometry JOHN V. FENTRESS, B.A. CHRISTINE HERING, B.S., M.A. Columbia University Madison College Home Economics VIRGINIA KYLE, B.A., B.S., L.S. Mary Baldwin, George Peabody Librarian ROBERT W. MAVITY, B.S. Eastern Kentucky State Graduate Work, University of Kentucky Physical Education ELIZABETH SUTHERLAND, B.S. Madison College English, History, Science ELIZABETH WILEY, A.B. William and Mary College Mathematics, Science, History MARGARET WILLIS, B.A., M.A. Westbampton University of Virginia University of Richmond Latin, Algebra William and Mary College History, English F. B. GLENN, B.A. William and Mary College Diversified Occupations Principal, Jackson-Wilson Schools MARY GREENE, B.S. Madison College Graduate Work, University of Virginia English, History WILLIAM McCHESNEY, B.A. Hampden-Sydney English, History BETTY LOU McMAHAN, A.B. Madison College English, History, Art RUTH ROYSTON William and Mary College University of Virginia History, English, Bible NELLE WRIGHT, B.A. Emory and Henry College Graduate Work, William and Mary College University of Virginia Supervisor of Instruction ANNE GARDNER WYLIE, B.S. Radford State Teachers College Home Ecottomics MRS. BEVERLY VINES Secretary CLASSES Typing Class History Class Chemistry Class Home Economics Mathematics Class Industrial Arts CLASSES SENIOR CLASS OFFICERS Verlin Baker Sutton Henkel Woodrow Stone . President . ' Vice-President Secretary-Treasurer SENIORS Andes, Frances Janet — No one ever asked a favor with less offense, or conferred one with a better grace.” Baker, Verlin Wright — Everything hand¬ some about him.” Barger, Emmet Warren, Jr. — A great devotee of the Gospel of Getting On.” Brady, George Samuel — Wit makes its own welcome, and levels all distinctions.” Brooks, Harry Lee — As grand a person as the fastest runner could ever find on the longest day.” Bush, Harry Dabney— I never found the companion that was companionable as solitude.” Byrd, Carl Alvin — All work is as seed sown; it k rows and spreads, and sows itself anew.” Campbell, Madeline Virginia— “With dreamful eyes My spirit lies Under the walls of Paradise.” Carr, Mary Caroline— I wear not My dagger in my mouth.” Coleman, Carmen Madelle — The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light.” Coles, Phyllis — Beauty of style and grace and good rhythm depend on simplicity.” Comer, Virginia Rhodes — Born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad.” Critzer, William Lawrence — There is courage in his eye.” Critzer, Mary Louise —“The reward of a thing well done is to have done it.” SENIORS Daughtry, Mattie Frances — Individuality is the salt of life.” Daughtry, Myrtle, Mae — Let thy speech be better than silence, or be silent.” Davis, Ann Fox— Y ou may have to live in a crowd, but you don’t have to live like it.” Deimling, Carl John — Fie pleases all the world, but cannot please himself.” DeMoli., Marvis Wilkins— She with one breath attunes the spheres, And also my poor human heart.” Driver, Edward McCarthy— Master, shall I begin with the usual jokes That the audience always laughs at?” Dudley, Evaline Lee — And unextinguish’d laughter shakes the skies.” Dugger, James Calvin, Jr. — The terrible. burden of having nothing to do.” Dugger, Bertha Mazine — The modest cough of a minor poet.” Fauber, William Clayborne — Loud clamor is always more or less insane.” Feaganes, Emma Juanita — She moves a goddess, and she looks a queen.” Fisher, Frances — She is a daughter of the game.” Floyd, Lucy Lou— P eople say that life is the thing, but I prefer reading.” Forrestel, Janet Mary — Precious things come in small packages.” Forrestel, Joan Estelle— Unthinking, idle, wild, and young, I laugh’d, and danc’d, and talk’d, and sung.” SENIORS Frank, Alvin Crum— I look upon all men as my compatriots.” Franklin, Alice Catherine— Imagination is as good as many voyages.” Freed, Betty Ann — Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we diet.” Goodson, Elsie Eleanor — A mine of clev¬ erness and wit.” Harmon, Ruth Carolyn— But not alone in the silken snare Did she catch her lovely flowing hair.” Harman, Jo Ann— She’s all my fancy painted her; She’s lovely, she’s divine.” Harris, Suzie— S uzie had a little Lamb.” Henkel, Frank Sutton — All his faults were such that one loves him still the better for them.” Hildebrand, Maynard W.— He made little fishes talk vastly like whale.” Hiserman, Kenneth Osborne— N eat not gaudy.” Hutchins, Betty Page — A sweet face set in a frame of shining golden hair.” Johnson, Marguerite Virginia — Nothing great was ever achieved without enthu- Kite, Charlotte Lee — She has a kind word for everyone.” Knapp, Robert Paul — But when he speaks, what elocution flows!” Lamb, David Coiner — He calls his trusting everybody, universal benevolence.” tit- SENIORS t Lawhorn, Phyllis Kathleen —“As true as the needle to the compass.” Lawman, Ruth Zane— She’s little but she’s wise; She’s a corker for her size.” Lonas, Walter Henry — Life is not so short but that there is always time enough for courtesy.” Lowry, Bernard Treolina — What I can’t see, I never will believe in!” Marion, Hazel Hamilton — Her only fault is that she has no fault.” Marsh, Suzanne— All the world loves a lover.” McCartney, Janet Long— He will not ask if you won or lost, But how you played the game.” MacPherson, Withrow Chase— He collected audiences about him And flourish’d, and exhibited, and harangued.” M ay o Twrfri a ' ' Thou brast been a generous giver.” Miller, Otto — Silence is deep as Eternity; speech as shallow as Time.” Miller, Paul Douglas — True-hearted, whole-hearted, faithful, and loyal . . Minter, Charles Ray, Jr. — Musical train¬ ing is a more potent instrument than any other.” McCauley, Noma Jane — I wish I were as „ sure of anything as McCauley is of every- . _ McWin, Jacquellyn Ruth— But oh, she dances such a way! No sun upon an Easter-day Is half so fine a sight.” McNabb, Charles Gamble — Small in stat¬ ure, but great in other respects.” SENIORS Morris, Charles Edward— An experienced, industrious, ambitious, and often quite picturesque liar.” Moyer, Jean Mosby— Horse-sense in an atmosphere of pomp and glory.” Muse, Margaret Lee— Laugh and the world laughs with you, Muse and you think alone.” Neidenthol, Ruby Virginia— She smiles and every heart is glad.” Owens, Annie Hildreth— But I have lived and I have worked.” Owens, Robert Lee— Life is the game that must be played.” Palmer, Lrif.da Rosana— S he smiled, and the shadows departed.” . y.P.Q. cad- Pitzer, Li elder Albert— H e would now Pa- Quillen, Edgar Maxwell— H e had no malice in his mind.” Ross, Ruby Irene— Q uietly she works away.” Sayre, Bonnie Eloise— Her color comes and goes; It trembles to a lily— It wavers to a rose.” Sipe, Jean Charlotte— I laughed till I cried.” Spradlin, Marjorie Mary— This is my work; my blessing, not my doom.” Stone, Woodrow Wayne— No sooner said than done—so acts this man of worth.” Stout, Ellen Mae— To be awake is to be alive.” SENIORS Tanner, Margaret Elizabeth — And her hair was so charmingly curled.” Terrell, Clara Ann — One for all, and all for one.” Wagner, Zora Virginia — Where the wil¬ lingness is great, the difficulties cannot be great.” Yancey, Kathleen Fontaine — We loved her for that she was beautiful.” Atkins, Wymon — - Doing easily what others find difficult is talent.” RICHARD H. CLEMMER, Jr. December 14, 1924—March 27, 1939 Although our beloved classmate has gone, he has left an inspiration in the hearts of all his fellow students which we will never forget. SENIOR WHO ' S WHO Best Looking Verlin Baker Betty Freed Cutest Sutton Henkel Zane Lawman Best Sport Woodrow Stone Ellen Stout Most Popular Warren Barger Phyllis Coles Most Studious Fielder Pitzer Lucy Lou Floyd Best Athlete Buddy Critzer Janet McCartney Best-all-Around Warren Barger Ellen Stout Neatest Kenneth Hiserman Jean Moyer Most Popular Teacher Mr. Fentress Miss Greene Most Likely to Succeed Warren Barger Lucy Lou Floyd t ' c-f JUNIORS WARREN ELLISON PATSY ETTER DOUGLAS FISHER LLOYD FISHER CECIL FITZGERALD MARY FORD PAULINE FORLOINES FRANCES FOSTER EUGENE FRAZIER r? s -4- y y JOYCE ANGEL MARJORIE ARNOLD GLENN BABER E. H. BAILEY .DOROTHY BAKER LOUIS BEAN A GERTRUDE BLOSS Mr f jean branaman x -STUART BROWNLEE FIMMY BURNETT JAMES BURTON Cft JAMES BUSH MARY BYRD MILDRED CARPENTER KELLY COFFEE HELEN COOK NORMAN COYNER OWEN COYNER CHRISTINE CRAIG GRANVILLE CRISER CATHERINE CULLEN CLARA CULLEN ANN DARNELL LOUISE DEPUTY DOROTHY DODD TILLIE DORR1F.R BUDDY EARHART OLIVER ELLIOT JAMES ELLINGTON DOROTHY ELLINGER JUNIORS BUDDY HALL HARRY HARTMAN ELIZABETH HENDERSON ALFRED HODGE BERNICE HOPSON FRED JONES JACK KELLER VIOLET KENNEDY EDNA KERBY ELLEN KERBY DOROTHY KITE PAUL LAMB EARLINF. LAMBERT HUGH LANDES JAMES LANDES ELINOR LAWLESS JANE LEONARD WILLIAM LESTER CHARLES MATHENY BILL MATHIS BUDDY MASON WINFRED McCORMICK MAXINE McCLUNG JEAN McGANN james McMillan JESSE McCOURRY DONALD MEADOWS VIDA MEETEER CARL MIZE FRANCES MORRIS VIVIAN MOSES FLORENCE MOSER LEONA NAYLOR LUCILLE NEIDENTHOL REED NEIDENTHOL CATHERINE NEIGHBORS CATHARINE PANNILL JUNIORS LOUISE PANNELL CHARLES PATTERSON JIM PATTON SAM PATTON JEAN PENCE WILLIAM PHILLIPS JOHN PHILLIPS MORRIS POWELL DEWEY POWELL STANFORD QUILLEN GLADYS REID SARAH REID ZELMA REID HELEN ROBERTS JOHN ROBSON ROBERT ROSS DONALD ROYER GUY RUSMISELLE FAE SAYRE MAE SAYRE WALLACE SAMPSON LOUISE SHEETS RUSSELL SHIFLETT HARRIET SHOOTER BESSIE STEINSPRING JEAN TERRELL JANE THACKER EVAGELINE THOMAS RUBY TOWNSEND JACK VAN LEAR HELEN WADE DOROTHY WAGNER JEAN WETZEL PEGGY WINE ALFRED WINTERS FRANCES WOODS JOE WOODS JUNIOR WOODS _ BETTY WRIGHT IN PICTURE W’fgatn ' a Burnette, Thomas Brooks, Russell r Cook, James Diehl, Paul Fisher, William Gardner, Harry Lee Grooms, Robert Hawkins, Ernest MacMillan, Percy Moore, Rachel Morris, Calvin Niday, Harriet Rankin, Thomas Reese, Wallace Steinspring, William Wyant. Oh A ' i uoa.. .W ' ' • y: ' ' - ° JUNIOR SNAPS The staff at work???—Where is the Basketball???—The good of it!!—The bad of it!!—Cutting the sidewalk???— Where’s the strutt???—Oh how they roll ’em—Seeing double—How did he do it???— Music hath charms”— Long and short of it—Pigskin heroes—Studying??? SOPHOMORES I tm t HAZEL ALLEN BETTY ANN ARNOLD JOHN BARKSDALE VIRGINIA BARKSDALE BARBARA BENNETT JOHNNIE BEVERAGE SALLY ANN BLACKWELL ELIZABETH BOOKER DEMMIE BRUMFIELD JOHNNIE BURTON ANNIE BYRD GENEVA CAMPBELL HOYE CAMPBELL ROBERT CAMPBELL THEODORE CAMPBELL MARY FRANCES CLUTZ MARCELLE COLLETTE FLORENCE CRAIG BUDDY CRUM EVELYN CRUM MARY DAMERON MARYLN DAMERON SARAH DAUGHTRY MARGARET DAVIS BETTY LOU DEADRICK FRANCES DICKERSON JEAN DOBBINS DOROTHY DRUMHELLER MARY SUE DRUMHELLER JANE DUGGER NANCY EAST JACK ELLISON JOHN EVANS MARY FISHER OLLIE FISHER EVELYN FITZGERALD JOYCE FITZGERALD JUNIOR FITZGERALD RALPH FITZGERALD ELLSWORTH FOLEY THOMAS FORTUNE LILLIAN FRANKLIN PHIL FULLER HELEN GARDNER MARSHALL GOODWIN SOPHOMORES ■ CONNIE HALL MARIAN LEE HALL MANUEL HAMILTON RINK HARMON BILLY HARRY MARJORIE HASSETT KATIE HERON HILDA HEWITT JEAN HICKS JACK HIGGS MILDRED HIGGS DOROTHY HISERMAN ALFRED HODGE HOBERT HODGE INEZ INGRAM FRANCES JONES LOIS JONES MAXINE JONES PAUL JONES EVELYN JOHNSON WOODIE KERBY VIRGINIA KERN AUDREY KITE TERESA KNAPP WINNIE KNAPP LILLIAN LAMB LOUISE LAMB RAY LAMB MAE LANDES EMILY LAWLESS EUGENE LAYMAN FRANCES MALLISON JEAN MATTOX patsy McCauley FRED McCORMICK PEARL McCPRMI EUGENE MEADOWS - DOROTHY MOONH DORIS MOORE HOWARD MOORE PETE MORGAN RUTH MORRIS NORRIS MOSES JOE MOYER JEANNE MYERS SOPHOMORES DELBERT NIEDENTHOL REID NIEDENTHOL LORRAINE PETERS NELSON PHARR SERENA PHILLIPS RUTH PHIPPS ELIZABETH PHORR EDWIN PLEASANTS HARVEY PLEASANTS STEPHEN PLEASANTS MARY REACH PEGGY REID HARRY RHINEHART JAMES ROADCAP BUSTER ROSS JEAN ROOT BILLY ROUTT REGGIE RUCKMAN NADINE SANDERS GUY SANDRIDGE JEAN SAUNDERS JUNIOR SEE DUANE SHIELDS MARY SHEETS GENEVIVE SHIFLETT JOHN SHIFLETT PAULINE SLAYTON ONEIL SPRADLIN BILLY STOUT VIVIAN STOUT LEWIS STRAUGHEN MABEL SUDDARTH FRANCES SWINK STUART TANNER EDWIN TERRELL HOMER TETER LOIS TRIESCHMAN MAE TUCKER GRACE WALSH CLARENCE WARD MILDR ED WEADE BEVERLY WEBB LOUIS WETZEL BEVERLY WOOD RUBY WOOLFORD NOT IN PICTURE Leo Dempsey, Eugene Johnson, Ruby Kennedy. SOPHOMORE SNAPS Penny Serenade”—After dining and dancing—Many heads are better than one— Howdy, stranger.” Hep, hep, jive. — Biology Beautiful” — Always busy—Butch and Butch, Inc.—Believe it or not. Educational Institution No. 2—Miss Royston didn’t sit still—Mothers’ helpers—Problems with X and Y. Another Abe Lincoln— Beat Me, Daddy”—Gertie belongs to us all— Time out to eat. FRESHMEN DELMER AGEE CHARLES ANDREWS FILMORE ARGENBRIGHT PAUL ARMSTRONG CONSTANCE ARNOLD CALLIE BAKER FREDDIE BA1NBRIDGE DORIS BALL BENNIE BEAGLE MARGARET BECK TESSIE BLOSS KATHERINE BOOKER ROY BOWLES DAVID BRADLEY JEAN BRATTON LOUISE BROWN ELIZABETH CALHOUN DOROTHY CAMPBELL WILLIAM CAMPBELL ELIZABETH CARTER RUBY ANN CARTER JAMES COFFEY ALMA COLEMAN FRANK COURTNEY VINNIE COYNER CATHERINE CRAIG EUGENE CRISER EUGENE CRITZER MARJORIE CRITZER JUNE DARNELL WILLIAM DAVIS FRED DEADRICK MERL DeMOLL ADA DODD NELSON DOYLE JOHN DUGGER IRIS ELLIS ROBERT EVANS CHARLOTTE ELLINGER RUBY FISHER THOMAS FISHER MAXINE FITZGERALD FRESHMEN JOHN FOLEY JOHN FORLOINES HELEN FOX GLENN FRANKLIN GEORGE FREED VALERIE GARBER FRANCES GLENN CLARE GOODSON G. W. GRANT DOROTHY GRAYDON JANE GROOMS JEAN HIGGS EVELYN HARTMAN DON HALL DON HILDERBRAND EUGENE HOOVER MAE HYDEN ANN KENNEDY MARY KENNEDY SHIRLY KIGER HELEN KINSER WALLACE JAMES HAZEL JOHNSON PATSY JOHNSON REBA JOHNSON DRIVER LAMB RITA LAWLESS DALE LAYMAN EARLENE LAYMON LYLE LOWRY DORIS MAHLER THURMAN MATHENY james McCauley MARTHA McCAULEY LOUISE McCRARY SHIRLEY McWIN CHRISTINE MEADOWS RAYMOND MEEKS BILLY MEETEER ANNIE LEE MILLER MARGARET MOORE UIDINE MORRIS FRESHMEN RAYMOND MORRIS WILLIAM MUNDY MERLE NEIDENTHOL HERMAN NEWCOMB VIRGINIA PANGLE LOIS PANNELL NINA PARNELL MARGARET PHILLIPS CLARENCE PITTMAN JOHN PLEASANTS MARIE POTTER AMELIA QUILLEN PAULINE RENOLDS MARY RHODES MARY FRANCES ROBINSON ANNA ROOT CHARLES ROSS LURTY ROSS CLIFTON RYDER R. K. SAUNDERS JOHN SAYRE BILLY SKILLMAN RICHARD SMITH HAZEL SNEAD BILLY SPILMAN BILLY STOGDALE PEGGY ANN STICKLEY EMMA STUPLES GRACE STUPLES DOUGLAS TALLEY RACHEL TERRELL RICHARD TERRELL SYLVIA TERRELL CARL TOLLEY HELEN UMBERGER TOM VICARS ROBERT WINGFIELD CATHERINE WHEELER ADELINE WOODS AUBREY WRIGHT GENEVIEVE WRIGHT LEWIS YANCEY MARJORIE YANCEY DOROTHY YEAGO NOT IN PICTURE Margaret Alphin, Martha Beard, Billy Coiner, Wade Crawford, Joe Drumheller, John Ken¬ nedy, Alec King, Robert Lawhorn, Watson Lonas, Clare Snead, Jewell Snead, Richard Wright. FRESHMEN SNAPS Monkey getting ready for a touchdown . . . Glenn, as usual, trying to be funny-plus to beat the band . . . My, my, those giggling girls . . . I guess Constance can’t do any better than this. These girls must have been rather hungry . . . What a pose, girls . . . All alone, Billy, where is Amelia? . . . Who could these girls be posing for? As usual, the Knapp, Woods, and Johnson gals , . . Valerie and her favorite pet . . . My, that smile is awfully broad ... Ye old high school . . . Another slant of the old high school. ORGANIZATIONS Hi-Y Club Latin Club French Club Art Club Social Committee Student Council ORGANIZATIONS First Row, left to right: Maxine McClung, Charles Ross, Evaline Dudley, David Lamb, Sylvia Terrell, Verlin Baker, Beverley Webb, Jane Grooms. Second Row : Mr. Fentress, John Barksdale, Hugh Landis, Virginia Barksdale, Charles Patterson, Bill Mathis, Craig Little, Woodie Kerby, Alvin Frank. Standing-. Warren Barger. STUDENT COUNCIL Warren Barger . President Bill Mathis . Vice-President Evaline Dudley . Secretary Mr. Fentress . Sponsor The Student Council of 1940-41 has striven to promote a feeling of self-responsi¬ bility among the students. Student committees, supervised by the Council, have done much to aid the program. The job has only begun, and so, to the councils of future years, this council says, Carry on.” First Row, left to right : Sam Patton, Woodrow Stone, Granville Criser, Warren Barger, Bill Fauber, Fielder Pitzer, Carl Mize, Chuck Grooms, Jimmy McMillan, Jimmy Burnett. Second Row: Coach Mavity, Norman Coyner, Paul Fisher, Douglas Fisher, James Bush, Harry Hartman, Charles Moyer, Red Lonas, Jim Patton, Fred Jones, Bernard Lowry. Third Row: Florence Moser, Ellen Stout, Frances Fisher, Lucy Lou Floyd, Janet McCartney, Jean McGann, Zane Lawman, Agatha Burnett, Frances Morris, Jane Dugger, Rachel Morris. W CLUB Bernard Lowry Paul Fisher Woodrow Stone Mr. Mavity . . . President .... Vice-President Secretary-T reasurer . Sponsor The monogram or W” Club was organized last year with all boys and girls earning varsity monograms for major sports, being eligible for membership. The purpose of the organization is to further sponsor athletics of all kinds in the school and to bind together all athletes for common causes. The club annually awards a sportsmanship award to the student who in his athletic endeavor has shown a fine sense of sportsmanship throughout the year. During the seasonal sports, the club meets and attends church together as a part of the program. This year the club sponsored two social events with the highlight being the annual Sadie Hawkins Dance. From the proceeds of these events the numerals, monograms, and part of the varsity awards were bought. Betty Freed, Jean Moyer, Ellen Stout. Eugene Layman, Teresa Knapp, Paul Jones, John Barksdale, Ruth Phipps. Charles Patterson, Vida Meteer, Vivian Moses. Charles Andrews, Patsy Johnson, Evelyn Hart¬ man, Don Hilderbrand. THE SKYLINE Jean Moyer, Vida Meeteer, Ruth Phipps, Patsy Johnson—Annual Editors. Ellen Stout, Vivian Moses, John Barksdale, Peggy Ann Stickley—Literary Editors. Betty Freed, Charles Patterson, Paul Jones, Don Hilderbrand—Business Managers. Miss Greene, Miss McMahan, Miss Royston, Miss Sutherland—Sponsors. The work of the Skyline staff is to present a yearbook to the students, showing a record of the activities of their school. The staff has endeavored to give a more complete picture of school life by including some literary work. At the same time the staff tried to produce an accurate and attractive book which pleases students, parents, and faculty. We have worked hard to achieve this. The only reward we seek is your approval of the result. Marvis De Moll, Margaret Alphin, Jo Ann Har¬ mon, Owen Coyner, Ellen Stout, Jean Terrell, Bill Fauber, Sam Patton. Elizabeth Calhoun, Lucy Lou Floyd, Ruth Phipps, Catherine Cullen, Helen Roberts, Bernard Lowry, Elizabeth Henderson. Paul Jones, Evelyn Hartman, Peggy Stickley, Bill Mathis, Clara Cullen, Jane Leonard, Marguerite Johnson. Elinor Lawless, Buddy Mason, Jack Keller, Charles Patterson, John Robson, Louise Deputy, Ellen Kerby, Janet Forrestel, Miss Wiley, Miss Royston, Mr. Mavity. JUNIOR NEWS-VIRGINIAN Ellen Kerby . Editor Buddy Mason . Associate Editor Louise Deputy . Associate Editor Janet Forrestel . Society Editor Charles Patterson . Sports Editor Miss Wiley, Miss Royston, Mr. Martin . Sponsors An effort has been made this year to make the Junior News-Virginian more thor¬ oughly a whole-school activity, developing as far as possible from regular classwork. The staff has requested that any person in the student body interested in journalistic writing submit articles by putting them in folders which have been placed in each home¬ room. The work of organizing the material and the make-up of the paper has remained the responsibility of the staff. The junior News-Virginian, at the annual S. I. P. A. Convention in Lexington, Vir¬ ginia, won first place among publications of its class, a school paper appearing in the local commercial paper. Miss Royston, Virginia Barksdale, Elizabeth Booker, Margaret Davis, Jane Dugger, Sylvia Terrell, Alma Coleman, Katherine Booker, Jean Hicks, Marcelle Colette, Mary Fisher, Beverley Webb, Frances Mallison, Callie Baker, Fois Jones, Jean Root, Jane Grooms, Marian Lee Hall, Margaret Alphin, Rachel Terrell, Pete Morgan, Jean Saunders, Dorothy Drumheller, Anna Root, Vinnie Coyner, Woodie Kerby, Ollie Fisher, Doris Ball. TORCH-y CLUB Virginia Barksdale Jane Dugger Margaret Davis Ruth Phipps . Elizabeth Booker Miss Royston . . President . Vice-President . ' secretary . T reasurer Corres. Secretary . Sponsor The aim of the Torch-Y club is to create, maintain, and extend, throughout the school and community a higher standard of Christian Living.” The motto is Clean living, clean speech, clean scholarship, and clean sportsmanship.” The Torch-Y has given a program at the District Home and various members have asked grace at lunch. The club also gave a party for the Freshman members. Miss Willis, Evaline Dudley, Maxine Dugger, Jean Moyer, Zora Wagner, Ellen Stout, Jo Ann Harmon, Zane Lawman, Betty Lou Bush, Janet Forrestel, Clara Cullen, Catherine Cullen, Jean Terrell, Clara Terrell, Caroline Carr, Vivian Moses, Elsie Goodson, Bonnie Sayre, Dorothy Wagner, Maxine Mc- Clung, Margaret Tanner. Hl-y CLUB Evaline Dudley . ' President Maxine Dugger Vice-President Jean Moyer . Secretary Zora Wagner . Treasurer Miss Margaret Willis . Sponsor The Hi-Y Girls’ Club of Waynesboro High has done its part in its promotion of its motto to create, maintain, and extend throughout the school and community, higher standards of Christian living.” The club has sponsored peanut week, which was to aid the pupils in becoming better acquainted with one another. It provided baskets to needy families at Thanksgiving and Christmas and has assisted in civic drives. FRENCH CLUB Ann Darnell, Mary Dameron, Virginia Kern, Hazel Allen, Elizabeth Henderson, Mary Byrd, Ann Davis, Florence Moser, Maxine Dugger, Elsie Goodson, Marvis De Moll, Zelma Reid, Miss Shular, Marguerite Johnson, Jean Sipe, Caroline Carr, Margaret Tanner, Evaline Dudley, Lucy Lou Floyd, Joan Forrestel, Betty Freed, Robert Knapp, Bill Fauber, Jo Ann Harmon, Harriet Rankins, Bill Mathis, Dorothy Dodd, Vida Meeteer, Mildred Carpenter, Alfred Winters, Betty Wright, James Dugger, Teresa Knapp. Maxine Dugger . President Evaline Dudley . Secretary Betty Freed . Vice-President Miss Helen Shular . Sponsor LATIN CLUB First Row, left to right : Dorothy Drumheller, Pete Morgan, Virginia Barksd ale, Marian Lee Hall, Beverly Webb, Jean Moyer, Ruth Phipps, Lois Jones, Jean Terrell, Ellen Stout, Zane Lawman. Second Row: Sarah Reid, Dorothy Kite, Joyce Angel, Dorothy Ellinger, Catharine Pannill, Clara Cullen, Helen Wade, Catherine Cullen, Harriet Shooter, Tillie Dorrier. Third Row: Miss Willis, Jane Leonard, Betty Arnold, Jean Saunders, Jean Branaman, Frances Wood, Gertrude Bloss, Frances Foster, Vivian Moses, Billy Stout. Fourth Row: Stuart Tanner, Jack Ellison, Fred McCormick, Marshall Goodwin, John Barksdale, Charles Patterson, Craig Little, Hugh Landis, Warren Ellison, Guy Rusmiselle, William Wyant. SECOND YEAR OFFICERS FIRST YEAR OFFICERS Jean Moyer . President Beverly Webb . President Frances Foster . Vice-President Fred McCormick . Vice-President Jean Terrell . Secretary-Treasurer Clara Cullen . Secretary-Treasurer Miss Margaret Willis . Sponsor ORCHESTRA John Robson, Alfred Winters, Charles Ray Minter, J. D. Ross, Billy Coiner, Stuart Tanner, Guy Rusmiselle, Harry Hartman, Reid Neidenthol, Eugene Layman. John Robson, Director Mr. McChesney, Sponsor BAND First Row, left to right-. Gertrude Bloss, Jackie McWin, Paul Jones, Eugene Layman, Wallace Sampson, Jimmy Ellington, J. D. Ross, Carl Landes, Elinor Lawless, Mr. Slusser. Second Row: Mr. McChesney, Douglas Smith, Joyce Tuck, Mary Ann Treischman, Graham Driver, Carl Coiner, Eddie Childs, D. H. Scott. Third Row: Billy Phipps, Wanda Tolley, Leo Fisher, Clifton Ryder, Don Hall, Claude Patton, Lewis Spilman, Betty Lou Hall, Allen Hanger, Max McLaughlin, Dewey Powell. Fourth Row: Norman Coyner, Charles Ray Minter, Alfred Winters, Shirley McWin, Hazel Johnson, Reba Johnson, Billy Coiner, Stuart Tanner, Johnny Burton, Wallace James, Virginia Kerns. Fifth Row: Dorothy Drumheller, Florence Moser, Billy Spilman, Harry Hartman, Reil Neidenthol, John Robson, Guy Rusmiselle, Hazel Allen, Mary Dameron, Phil Fuller. Mr. Slusser, Director Mr. McChesney, Sponsor DRAMATICS AT WAYNESBORO HIGH SCHOOL ! COSTUME GROUP This group of the Dramatic Club has served chiefly as an advisory committee for the acting group when a play was being produced. In the regular meetings the members have been busy learning the elements of good design and have created some original designs for stage costumes. In the future the group hopes to expand its work and actually make costumes for high school per¬ formances. Left to Right: Evelyn Crum, Lois Treischman, Nancy East, Miss McMahan, Mildred Carpenter. MAKE-UP GROUP Under the supervision of Mr. Chew, the make-up group has charge of the make-up for school per¬ formances. The group has enlarged its supply of make-up materials and is learning the art of using them. Left to Right: R. K. Saunders, Dorothy Baker, Red Lonas, Helen Wade, Mr. Chew, Clara Cullen, Mary Byrd. Catherine Cullen, Ann Darnell, Paul Armstrong. [ THE SENIOR DRAMATIC GROUP produced a pocket-minstrel, two one-act plays, and an assembly program. Some members of the group have made a study of various stage and voice technicalities. Sitting : Jean Sipe, Clara Terrell, Marvis De Moll, Helen Wade, Marguerite Johnson, Mac Driver, Carl Deimling, Buddy Mason, Betty Freed, Warren Barger. Standing-. Mrs. Davies, Virginia Comer, Craig Little, Evaline Dudley, Bill Mathis, Lucy Lou Floyd, Chase Mac- Pherson, Frances Foster, Jackie McWin, Bill Fauber, Bobby Knapp, Norman Coyner, Frances Wood, Ellen Kerby, and Vivian Moses. THE FRESHMAN DRAMATIC CLUB is composed entirely of freshmen interested in acting. The group has presented Penrod”, The White Elephant Comes Home”, and The Van Doran’s Christ¬ mas Party”. At present the members are working on three one-act plays which they will present at an evening performance. Nearly every member had had an opportunity to act or to be on the stage crew during the year. Shirley McWin, Hazel Johnson, Amelia Quillen, Margaret Alphin, Valerie Garber, Ruby Ann Carter, Sylvia Terrell, Dale Laymon, Catherine Booker, Patsy Johnson, Mary Frances Robertson, Miss Sutherland, Delmer Agee, Eugene Critzer, Margaret Phillips, Peggy Stickley, David Bradley, Richard Wright, Frank Courtney, Dorothy Campbell, Doris Mehler, Mae Hyden, Eugene Criser, John Forloines, Charles Andrews, Don Hall, Clifton Ryder, Don Hilderbrand, Callie Baker, Billy Spilman, Margaret Beck, Catherine Craig, Elizabeth Calhoun. THE JUNIOR AND SOPHOMORE DRAMATIC GROUP has used one-act plays to give experience in techniques of acting. The group has given a one-act play Hot Biscuits” and a radio play Sixteen”. The purpose of the group is to give every member ex¬ perience in acting. Louis Bean, Teresa Knapp, Elinor Lawless, Beverly Webb, Harry Hartman, Monkey Ross, Vida Meteer, Nadine Sanders, Frances Malli- son, Dorothy Kite, Dorothy Dodd, Catharine Pannill, Ruth Phipps, Marian Lee Hall, Mae Sayre, Pete Morgan, Fae Sayre, Virginia Barks¬ dale, Geneva Campbell, Hilda Hewitt. THE STAGE CREW consists of fifteen boys, who take care of lighting and who make stage arrangements for various dramatic productions during the year. The group worked for the following productions: Tub Trouble”, Hot Biscuits”, False Witness”, a minstrel, and a dramatic club assembly program. Aside from school productions they served on the stage crew for the following outside productions: The Secret Garden”, Alice in Wonderland”, and Robin Hood” presented by the Clare Tree Major Players. These boys also did stage work for the Waynesboro Music Asso¬ ciation on two occasions. Jimmy Ellington, Lyle Lowry, Glenn Franklin, J. D. Ross, Glenn Baber, Billy Spilman, Wallace Sampson, Mr. Bateman, Cecil Fitzgerald, Richard Wright, Robert Evans, Granville Carlyle, Fred Deadrick, Don Hall, John Pleasants. ATHLETICS Intramural Sports Boys’ Junior Varsity Girls’ Gym Class Track Tennis Girls’ Junior Varsity Softball Managers of Varsity Basketball ATHLETICS Front Row, left to right : Zane Lawman, Jean Terrell, Peggy Reid, Florence Moser, Jean McGann, Janet McCartney, Frances Fisher, Ellen Stout. Back Row: Virginia Comer, Rachel Morris, Jane Dugger, Agatha Burnett, Frances Morris, Annie Byrd, Mrs. Brand, Coach Mavity. GIRLS ' BASKETBALL The Little Amazons” went through a successful season with nine victories and two defeats. The team next year will be handicapped by the loss of three forwards and one guard, namely: McCartney, Lawman, and Fisher, the forwards; and Stout, the guard. However, next year’s team will have a good start with nine varsity players. SCORES OPPONENTS WAYNESBORO OPPONENTS OPPONENTS WAYNESBORO OPPONENTS Fishersville . . 42 25 Lexington . . 52 13 Bridgewater . . . . . 52 30 Harrisonburg . . . . 17 4 Fishersville . . 35 20 Du Pont . . 24 31 Lane High . . 19 27 Lane High . . 22 19 Bridgewater .... . 28 19 Lexington . . 50 17 Harrisonburg . . . . 33 17 First Row, left to right: Carl Mize, Buddy Critzer, Sutton Henkel, Jim Patton, George Thurneau. Second Row: Coach Mavity, Douglas Fisher, Lloyd Fisher, Robert Owens, Lawrence Critzer, Paul Fisher, Woodrow Stone. i BOYS ' BASKETBALL The Little Giants” started the ’40 season with very few men who had had varsity experience. The records show that the season was highly successful. The future years should be more successful seasons for the basketeers. SCORES OPPONENTS WAYNESBORO OPPONENTS OPPONENTS WAYNESBORO OPPONENTS Fishersville . . 26 19 Lee . . .. . 34 15 Bridgewater . . 23 25 Winchester . . .. . 18 17 Fishersville . . 25 16 Middle brook (Forfeit) ... 2 0 . 29 14 Lexington . . .. . 8 29 Bridgewater . . 24 21 Clifton Forge. . . . . 28 24 Alumni . . 22 15 Harrisonburg . . . . . 14 2} Lee . . 30 25 Lexington . . .. . 29 36 Harrisonburg . . . . . 18 19 Winchester . . . . . 20 18 Back Row. Watson Lonas, Thurman Klutz, Alfred Winters, Eugene Criser, Alec King, Billy Spilman, Ralph Fitzgerald, Bill Davis, John Phillips, Jack Keller. Third Row: Paul Fisher, Norman Coyner, Artemus Potter, Billy Harry, Jesse McCourry, Buddy Bush, James McMillian, Lloyd Fisher, Chuck Grooms. Second Row: Sam Patton, Preston Yancey, Bill Fauber, Red Lonas, Harry Hartman, Fred Jones, Wade Crawford, Buddy Critzer. First Row: Max Quillen, Fielder Pitzer, Carl Mize, Jimmy Burnett, Coach Mavity, Granville Criser, Charles Moyer, Bernard Lowry, Warren Barger. FOOTBALL TEAM The Little Giants” of ’40 showed a vast improvement over the preceding year and the prospects for the future are very encouraging. The team was changed from a lowly-rated team to a highly-rated eleven in the valley league. SCORES OPPONENTS WAYNESBORO OPPONENTS OPPONENTS WAYNESBORO OPPONENTS Fluvanna . . 19 6 Harrisonburg . . . . 0 0 Hot Springs . .. . . 7 0 V. S. D. B . . 6 19 S. M. A. JV’s . .. . 21 0 Lexington . . 13 19 Bedford . . 12 33 Lee . . 18 6 SENIOR SNAPS Two of a kind . . . Our editor . . . The Beer Barrel Polka”. What big feet you have, grandpa. Hi, cutie. Senior basketeer, Critzer. Play ball, Fisher. We want action. Where’s the basket? Shoot it, Janet. Hold everything. The Three Musketeers”. Adolf Hitler, Jr. Centers—Moyers; Ends—Wagners. New figureheads for Fords. Singing or orating? Library Cheer Leaders Dancing at Noon Assembly Art Cafeteria I MAGAZINE - : ■ V- nr Death Rides on the Wings of the Storm Noma McCauley, ’41 The old Negro’s face was wrinkled and lined with cares as he staggered along with a heavy bag of groceries slung over his shoulder. When he had first started for home, it had seemed light. Now it seemed to be getting heavier, and he had many miles to go yet. From time to time he glanced at the sky, and, as if dissat¬ isfied with the looks of the dark threat¬ ening clouds, increased his pace. The heavy snow on the ground hindered him, and as he strove to extract himself from a big snowdrift, he muttered wrathfully. A sharp wind began to blow. It blew the top of the snow along, striking the old Negro sharply in the face. With numbed senses he fought his way for¬ ward. In the hollows of the mountains ahead, over which he had to pass to get home, snow drifted deeply. As the wind died down and the cold increased, a hard crust of ice formed on the top of the snow. Night came on quickly and the old Negro was still far from home. Because of the darkness and the depth of the snow, he soon wandered from the road. He walked along for quite a distance easily because the snow had frozen into a hard crust of ice. Wandering farther and farther from the trail, he soon ap¬ proached the hollows where snow had drifted. He was continually falling into small drifts. As he fought his way out of them by much flailing of arms, the bag seemed to become more burdensome; but he would not leave it behind. It con¬ tained his provisions for the next six weeks. Soon he was quite exhausted. Walking wearily along with the bag of groceries still slung over his shoulder, he stepped unseeingly into a deep drift. This one proved to be too big to tackle, being about thirteen feet deep. All his strug¬ gles proved of no avail and he soon smothered. Snow lay in the hollows all winter and nothing could be found of the old darky anywhere. In the spring some hunters found an arm of the old Negro’s and searching about they found the rest of 53 the body some distance away. Digging a shallow hole in the ground, they lined it with boughs of the fir tree and buried the old darky’s bones. They hastily filled the hole and placed a large flat stone at the head for a marking. After finishing their work, they went slowly away. Many springs have passed since then, but the old Negro’s burial ground still remains a spot of interest to hikers. Other Negroes have been buried in the same plot, but they are only thought of vaguely by hikers. (This is based on a true incident that happened shortly after the Civil War. The Negro’s name was Jessie Rhodes). Time Marches On Robert Ross, ’42 For me time started in March of what year?”, the second son of a family who already had two daughters as well—so far no particular fame has descended upon me, although I probably hold the title for benchwarming in football games, and they tell me my cream of tomato soup is something to rave about! My ancestors probably never graced the Hall of Fame, but it is a coincidence that the famed Miss Betsy Ross of Phila¬ delphia lived on Arch Avenue, and I, Robert L. Ross of Waynesboro, was born and also live on Arch Avenue! Perhaps some day that will add up to something! I’m glad I wasn’t born thirty years too soon or I wouldn’t be able to enjoy and use our modern Waynesboro High School. There was one time in my life when I thought I wouldn’t be able to enjoy this school, when my sister, Marjorie, thoughtlessly and carelessly hit me in the head with a croquet mallet. Of course, like all other little children, I certainly raised a howl at that. There was a big knot on my head; it was pretty blue, and extremely hard to explain. You see, I wasn’t old enough—or clever enough— to think up an excuse like— I ran into a door!” It hurt me pretty badly, but from all indications it hurt Marjorie worse than it did me! Like all other younger brothers and sisters, it fell my lot to wear my older brothers hand-me-downs; and when I get a new necktie—do I strut! When I was born, my only rich uncle on my mother’s side, not having any children of his own, made some mighty rash pro¬ mises if Mom” would call me Robert after him—Well that’s how I got my name. By some queer incident, although I was christened Robert L. Ross, I became Billy Sunday” to my family and most of my friends—that is until I was old enough to object! It seems I was taken to an evangelistic meeting and during the service I got restless and proceeded to take over the meeting by exercising my vocal cords. I don’t remember, but it ap¬ peared that Billy Sunday, the preacher, had little patience with noise, other than his own particular type; so my mother, —ran, not walked, to the nearest exit, and after that I never knew whether it was my mother or I who objected the more to that particular name. Oh, well, what’s in a name? On Holding Hands Lucy Lou Floyd, ’41 I held a hand the other night, And it filled my heart with wonder. I felt like breaking into song, But I feared I’d make a blunder. I leaned a little closer And thought of the things involved In that little hand I gently held, For all of the questions it solved. That hand meant ever so much to me, And my skin felt full of darts. Dared I do it?—Of course, With 150 honors in hearts! 54 Odds and Ends of Sports Woodrow Stone, ’41 A week before school started a familiar sound could be heard. This sound was Coach Mavity getting the football squad in shape. The prospects for the team were very good with a lot of experienced men out for practice. The season showed four victories at the expense of Fluvanna, 19-6, Hot Springs 7-0, Staunton Military Acad¬ emy’s Junior Varsity 21-0 and Lee High of Staunton 18-6. There were three losses: Bedford 33-12, Virginia School for Deaf and Blind 19-6 and Lexington 19-13. The one tie game was with Har¬ risonburg 0-0. The team showed much improvement over the previous year. The line was much better. The backfield wasn’t heavy, but it was fast. In Chuck” Grooms we had one of the finest scat- backs” in high school football. In Harry Hartman we had a plunger that accounted for most of our points. Time and time again we had Red” Lonas punt us out of danger. Red” also did our dropkicking for extra points after touch¬ downs. In the line theer was Paul Man- mountain” Fisher, gigantic 240-pound tackle. Fielder Pitzer, Granville Criser, Warren Barger and Charles Moyer all played a good brand of football that held the opposition to few points. Bernard Lowry and Buddy Critzer, our regular ends, often brought the spectators to their feet with their dazzling pass snagging. To these boys and Coach Mavity we give credit for a good team that was a threat in the Valley League. Heretofore Waynesboro High wasn’t even consid¬ ered a threat. Coach Mavity’s second basketball sea¬ son at Waynesboro High was highly suc¬ cessful. He started the season with five men who had varsity experience. Around these five he built a team that would have won the district title if they had defeated Lexington and Harrisonburg. The Little Giants” started the sea¬ son with a victory over the Fisherville 55 High School quintet with a score of 22- 16. Later on in the season the Little Giants” won another victory over the same team. The next game was lost to Bridgewater 25-23; but later on in the season the Little Giants” had sweet re¬ venge, winning 24-21. The Little Giants” turned back the Fighting Leemen” from Staunton twice with the scores of 30-25 and 34-15. The remainder of the season showed two losses to Harrisonburg, two losses to Lex¬ ington, two wins over Clifton Forge, one win over the Alumni, one win over Mid- dlebrook and double victories over Handley High of Winchester. The boys who wore the varsity uni¬ forms were Sutton Henkel, Carl Mize, Chuck” Grooms, Jim Patton, Buddy Critzer, Robert Owens, Lawrence Crit- zer, George Thurneau, Lloyd Fisher, and Paul Fisher. To these boys goes credit for giving Waynesboro High School its first successful season in several years. The boys’ Junior Varsity played four games this season. The two games lost were to Clifton Forge 13-12 and Lee High 25-24. The victories came at the hands of Clifton Forge 24-9 and Lee High 22-13. These boys showed that the varsity team will have some experienced men in a couple of years. The Little Amazons” started another highly successful season with a victory over Fisherville. Later on in the season they again defeated Fisherville. The rest of the season showed two victories over Bridgewater, two wins over Harrison¬ burg, two wins over Lexington, one win over Middlebrook, one win and one loss at the hands of Lane High and one loss at the hands of the DuPont sextet. The Little Amazons” scored 384 points to the opponents’ 220. The team was led in scoring by Janet McCartney who set a new record by scoring thirty points in one game. Frances Fisher, Jean McGann, Zane Lawman, Ellen Stout, Jane Dugger, Rachel Morris, Florence Moser and the rest of the squad turned in good offensive and defensive skill in turning in another successful season for the Little Amazons” of Waynesboro Hi gh. When the call for baseball practice is sounded, there will be a lot of lettermen coming back for another season. The infield is intact with only third base left open by graduation. The out¬ field is well filled, as two regulars and one reserve are coming back. The catching position is in the bag,” as the one regular is sure of that position. The pitching worries are not so bad, as our southpaw is again ready to answer to call to prac¬ tice. This baseball season should be very successful. The baseball season will be the last sport taught at Waynesboro High by Coach Mavity. The coach was drafted and will be inducted into service as soon as school is over. Britain Stands Wyman Atkins, ’41 O Britain stands, Britain stands, Hear those mighty sounding bands! Hear the drums and bugles too Ring out in battle all anew! Nights are darkened; never still— War birds come; sirens shrill— Awful sight at last the light, Tight-lipped patriots — all’s quiet, all’s quiet. O Britain stands; Britain stands. Glorious ruler o’er her land— Courageous men, never fear, Fight with gun or sword or spear— Far-flung empire—conquered never! Victorious warriors—freedom ever! Long our hardships—toil and sweat— God be with us, ever yet; God be with us, ever yet. 56 Class Prophecy The scene of our great story is in that beautiful city of Waynesboro, and the time is 1951. Everyone is hurrying to the church on this bright sunny day for there is to be a big and eventful wedding. The bride has hired the best seamstress in town, Hazel Marion, to make her gowns, and everything is in readiness for the cere¬ mony to begin. As the music starts, blushing and rad¬ iant Betty Ann Freed trips down the aisle to meet none other than Sutton Henk el. Reverend Thurneau is to marry them. As soon as the wedding is over the bride and groom hurry to catch the train and start their honeymoon. They have decided to go around the world and their first stop is Washington, where they will be the guests of that great senator Bloss from Virginia. Just as they arrive at the train, engi¬ neer Otto Miller is oiling the wheels of the train, and he is ready to start. Betty and Sutton find their seats and prepare to enjoy themselves when con¬ ductor Kenneth Sanders comes around for their tickets, and as usual Sutton has forgotten to buy them. After much confusion and fussing, they get it straightened out and are ready to start. Before they reach the first stopping point of their honeymoon, they become acquainted with the famous pixilated sisters, otherwise known as Mattie and Mae Daughtry. They finally arrive in Washington, and immediately they hail a taxi to take them to the mansion of Senator Bloss. Just by chance they look at the name plate of the driver and find that George Brady is driving. At the end of a week they are on their way to New York City. Only a short time elapses until they are in their room at the Waldorf-Astoria. Sutton buys the evening paper, and they read that Two-Gun Driver has been killed and his statue has been placed in Betty Page Hutchins’ National Museum of Wax Statues. Also they read that Charles McNabb is running for President on the Republican ticket and Walter Lonas is running on the Demo¬ cratic ticket. It has been rumored that the Republicans only put Charles up because they knew they would lose. As soon as they have rested, they decide to go see a good movie at Hildebrand’s Theater. When they enter the lobby of the theater, they see that darling broadway star, who is almost a second Shirley Temple, Zane Lawman, and they find that the movie stars lovely and talented Phyllis Coles, playing opposite handsome Robert Knapp. The comic part of the movie is played by Virginia Comer. The next day they visit the automat and find Louise Critzer, the rich owner. When she was asked where she bought such delicious ice cream, she replied Oh, we get that from Baker’s dairy.” Before leaving New York, Betty and Sutton are honored at a party given by the richest widow in the city, Madeline Campbell, and then they are given a spectacular send off by Jackie McWin and her majorettes. After a delightful week on the boat they land in London, England, and the ambassador from the U. S. meets them there. On the way to the embassy they learn that his efficient private secretary is Frances Andes. They are told they cannot leave Eng¬ land without being entertained by the Army General and his wife, so they are taken to dinner there the next night, and who should be the general’s charming wife but Alice Franklin? She promises to 57 show them through one of the army camps the next day, but tonight they must go to the opera, where Prima Donna Evaline Dudley is going to sing. The next morning Betty and Sutton visit the camp escorted by Rosana Palmer, the camp hostess. Betty asks if they are well fed and Rosana replies, They are fed the best food we can get them and it is cooked by the very best cook we could find, Chester Moore.” Not many days later our bride and groom start on their way again, this time to be the guests of that young American who became queen of Rumania, Janet Forrestel. The palace in which she lives is of magnificent structure and so they are treated royally. Before they leave Rumania they learn that Janet’s sister Joan is giving her brother some business by obtaining her fourth divorce, and she says she has her eyes on another man now. The next few weeks after they leave Rumania are spent in terror, for they are heading into the African Jungles to visit their missionary friend Maxine Dugger. This is a very short visit because they want to get back to the United States again. On their way back to the boat they meet Clara Terrell, the famous African hunter, and with her is a reporter from the New York Times, Bonnie Sayre. Clara explains that the only reason Bonnie is with her was because she wants headlines in the papers. After leaving Clara, they spend only two more days journeying and then they arrive at the boat. There are many pho¬ tographers and reporters around the boat but Betty and Sutton manage to duck them and get to their state room. They have just gotten settled when a knock is heard on the door and who should walk in but the editor of the New York Times, Lucy Lou Floyd. She is the first woman ever to become an editor of this paper. Lucy makes herself right at home and stays in their room for two hours, but the time is not wasted because she tells them all the general news of their old graduate friends. She informs them that Jean Sipe had just become a lawyer, and that Thomas Sanders, the famous Test Pilot, had re¬ cently been killed. She tells them that Woodrow Stone is manager of the Yankee baseball team and Bernard Lowry has a batting average higher than Lou Gehrig’s. She also tells them that William Mayo has been appointed official garbage collector of Waynesboro. After dinner that night, all the first class passengers are entertained with a floor show, and the feature attraction is those two wonder skaters Ruby Nieden- thol and Phyllis Lawhorn. The music is furnished by Carmen Coleman’s all-girl orchestra. The trip home on the boat is a gay one for Betty and Sutton. When they land in San Francisco, they hurry right to their hotel to get ready for dinner. They take a taxi and go to Byrd’s Diner for dinner, and who should wait on them but Charlotte Kite. During the course of their dinner, that famous Blues singer, Kathleen Yancey, sings. The next day is devoted entirely to shopping, and the first thing Betty and Sutton do is to go to exclusive dress shops with models. They take their seats and the first model to walk out is Margaret Tanner, and by the time they get over the shock of her being a model, out walks Margaret Muse. They purchase a dress, and then decide to go in a bookshop and get the latest novels. They find that Elsie Goodson’s book Mountaineer Life” is the best seller, and Marjorie Spradlin’s book of poems is highly recommended. As they are walking down the street to find a ten-cent store, they come across a pawn shop with a sign over the door 58 which read, Noma McCauley’s Pawn Shop,” and then underneath it read, Come in, we handle everything”. The ten-cent store is owned by Mr. Fielder Pitzer. Then they return to the hotel room where they settle down to read the paper. In the headlines is Ann Davis, Famous Woman Wrestler, Is Beaten,” and the same page tells all the football victories of Austin Critzer. In Believe it or Not” is a little piece about Ruby Ross’ living on a desert island for five years. After seeing museums and such, the next morning Betty and Sutton decide to go for a good long hike into the country. They hike for about two miles when they meet two hoboes. After talking to them for a while, they find out that they are Chase MacPherson and Harry Brooks. From Chase and Harry they learn that Janet McCartney owns a horse farm about a mile down the road, so they de¬ cide to call. Janet had visitors, two old bachelors, David Lamb and Max Quillen. Janet greets them heartily and invites them to go to the circus with Max, David, and herself. Delighted at the thought of a good old circus, Betty and Sutton accepted. At the circus they find the ring mas¬ ter, Ray Minter, all dressed in bright clothes, introducing the tallest man in the world, Billy Bush. That night when they got back, they go right to their room and pack, then go to the train to return home. On the train they meet Carl Deimling who has turned out to be a great broad- way theatrical producer, and he says that Marvis DeMoll directed his plays. Carl stays with them until they reach Charlotte, North Carolina, where they visit Carolyn Harman, the Famous Southern Belle. After about three days, Sutton and Betty reach Waynesboro again, and the first bit of gossip they hear when they hit the city is that Jo Ann Harman is the publicity agent for the U. of Va., and that Suzanne Marsh is manager of all the telephone operators in Waynesboro. Their home is not quite ready for them to live in so they visit Juanita Feageans in her little new home. During the night a pipe breaks and they have to call Fauber’s plumbing agency to fix it. The next day Betty and Sutton go out to the hospital to see an old friend and there they find the chief surgeon, Warren Barger, running down the hall, followed by two of his most efficient nurses Jean Moyer and Zora Wagner. Their friend dies that night and is taken to Dugger’s Funeral Home to pre¬ pare him for burial, while George Lester digs the grave. When morning comes, they go out to the old high school and there they find that Caroline Carr is the new English teacher, Charles Moyer, the janitor, Frances Fisher, the Home Ec. teacher. Within another week’s time they are in their new home and they called pho¬ tographer Kenneth Hiserman and have him photograph it with their next door neighbor, Marguerite Johnson standing out in front. That night when the paper comes out there is a big picture of it on the front page. Also there is a picture of Robert Owens, the new manager of Du Pont, and his sister Annie, who had just gotten her third divorce; she says it is her last. Sutton reaches up and turns the radio on where announcer Paul Miller is an¬ nouncing the opening of the new Waynesboro zoo, and that the keeper will be Charles Morris. At the close of the program he announces that Alvin Frank offers one of his best turkeys from him poultry farm to anyone who can guess the weight of it at the county fair. Sutton turns the radio off, then he looks at Betty and says, I believe we saw everyone in our graduating class while we were on our honeymoon.” 59 On a Spring Morning John Barksdale, ’43 Yes, it was a spring morning; accord¬ ing to my calendar, it was March. If I had been blind and had walked over to my open window, I would certainly have thought the new season had arrived. The warmth of the sun on a blind person’s face and the happy chittering of the birds would have made him feel that surely spring had leaped in overnight. But I am not blind. When I walked over to the window the glare of snow made my sleep-heavy eyes blink like a neon sign! Realizing that the snow could not last long under the hostile sun, I dressed quickly and grabbed my camera. Like any photography enthusiast, I recognized that morning as an opportunity for some good shots. But like a beginner, I had no idea what to shoot.” I stepped outside and took a breath of—not frigid winter air — spring air. Then I just crunched around for awhile. The snow, about ten inches deep, had a brittle crust four inches beneath the surface. Each flake, like a tiny diamond, reflected the sun’s rays. The shadows, having a subtle, transparent bluish quality, were the most attractive. After some undecided roaming, I snapped a picture of snow-laden trees and their shadows before crossing the high¬ way onto the wooded winter bluff. A scraper had been over the road, piling up snow like mountains on either side of a valley. In the woods the sleet-covered trees glistened like crystal chandeliers overhead. Because speed was impossible and because I wasn’t in a hurry, I trudged along very slowly. Shafts of sunlight, filtered by the branches overhead, fell on the snow in splotches, dividing the white, damp carpet at my feet into bluish shadows and sparkling highlights. I half slid and half fell down a steep slope, my camera lurching crazily on its strap, onto a dam ridged with ice and snow. Looking at the river I was aston¬ ished at the dirty gray appearance of the rushing, foaming water! It had seemed so white yesterday! Then I realized that the snow with its dazzling whiteness had completely stolen the spotlight from the water, making it look dirty in compar¬ ison. Continuing along the bluff, I came to a steep incline rimmed in by projecting rocks. Brushing the snow off in one spot, I leaned my weight on what I thought to be the rock. It gave way suddenly and I lunged forward. The rock” had been only snow crust! I tried again, and this time I planted both hands on iceless ledges and both feet in the snow. Swish! The snow under my feet suddenly re¬ fused to bear my weight! It slid out of the way, leaving me to stand on almost nothing. But by implanting both feet firmly at each step, I reached the bottom with nothing but cold hands to show for my difficulties. I returned to the road once more, my empty stomach quickening my steps toward home. When I came inside the house, an odor that seemed even more beautiful than the sights I had just witnessed called me to a substantial breakfast of bacon and eggs. What a climax for this unusual spring morning! The small red beam on the car made a faint flicker as it turned the corner, out of her life to stay. Jean Saunders 60 Remembrances Suzanne Marsh, ’41 A soft light filled the room from the burning log in the fireplace and also cast faint shadows over the stiff backed leather chairs with matching sofa, the old high wooden desk, and finally came to rest on the shelves of neatly arranged but worn books that occupied a whole section of the room. The room seemed empty of life at a first glance, but a second one would soon reveal the shape of a dog lying on the hearth gazing into the embers. From all appearances he was just resting, but if one looked into the big brown eyes, they would have encountered intense suffering and bewilderment. Slowly realization came over the big creature, and in a dog’s way he began to understand the reasons for the hushed silence and whispers of the many people in the big house. Now, he knew why his kind master had not called him into this room, had not whistled for him to come and take their daily roam over the adjoining fields and then finally to end their walk down by the little creek where both would rest. Oh, how each beautiful memory stood out as if it had happened only yesterday, and with every reminiscence the cour¬ ageous heart in the big body suffered a new anguish. Why, it truly seemed only yesterday that he had been a young pup almost starving, very cold, and not caring whether he lived or died. It was on a rainy day when he was alone on the wet street and heard soft footsteps behind him. He remembered wondering if he was to receive another of many kicks; but when no sharp pain came to him, he looked up into a pair of smiling eyes just as brown as his own. Immediately there came a feeling of understanding and friendship which was to last forever. The embers in the fireplace seemed to reflect the glowing happy years with his master. Never in Wanderer’s mind— Wanderer being the name given to the dog by his master—could he remember being spoken to in harsh words, though 61 he knew of times when there were many worries on the mind of the great man How he wished he could have helped at those times, just as he helped when a horse had bolted and thrown his master to the ground. The memory of the great man lying there unable to move, his face transfixed with pain, was still almost un¬ bearable, and he recalled how long the distance seemed from the meadow to the house where he ran for help. For many days he lay in his master’s room beside the bed. Finally his friend recovered, but there would be no more long hikes or romps, for his master now limped and could walk only with a cane. He remembered the sad look that came into the fine eyes of his master and how the tired face lighted up when he licked the hand clutching the cane. And so the years passed, each storing up dear memories; but now there would be no more, because his kind master had died two nights before, and Wanderer felt he was just as much alone now as he was the rainy day he had looked into the smiling brown eyes. The big body heaved in a sigh and then a look of contentment came into his eyes as he realized that his remembrances would remain with him just as the last few burning coals in the fireplace still glowed after the log was completely gone. Clouds Claire Goodson, ’44 Have you ever, on a lazy, summer day, watched the clouds? To lie on a grassy hill and watch the clouds! Ah! It’s a peace that comes only in one season. That is in the summer. You may rave about the fun you have in a canoe, drifting down a lazy stream; you may love to sail along in a boat, carried by the wind in its sails; but as for me, I am content to lie on a grassy hill and watch the clouds drifting and sailing. The time to lie on a hill and dream is about three o’clock in the afternoon. I once saw a cloud that looked like George Washington. (Perhaps it wasn’t his exact likeness.) Then a small lamb followed this cloud. This small creature seemed to indicate the gentleness of the great man’s character. Another cloud took on the shape of a bull dog. It seemed to say, ' T, too, am something in Washington’s char¬ acter. Remember, he had a strong will that was not easily broken.” A little breeze began to scatter this cloud, and a group of fleecy clouds sailed into my vision. They reminded me of a group of soldiers. They were not both of the same army, however. I believe that if the clouds had been colored, some of them would have been dressed in blue, others in grey. They all seemed to drift into one form and there before me was the beloved face of ' ' Honest Abe”. He paused for a moment, and then the mis- chievious little breeze whisked him away too. I put my hands behind my head for a minute and closed my eyes. When I opened them, the clouds had again formed soldiers. This time they seemed to wear uniforms of a more modern type. Perhaps like those used in 1917. I do not remember. They gave way to huge cloud, which refused to become any form, but when urged by the little breeze, move along in the direction of the others.. Then to my sleepy senses there came a roaring sound. The air vibrated with it. I sat and looked to the west, where the sound came from. There a great flock of birds were flying. War-birds of Uncle Sam. My mind no longer drifted with the fleecy clouds! Yes, the time had come to stop dreaming of the dead heroes, and make heroes of the living! A passing fancy! A mind unbalanced? I think not. I blame it on the summer day, and the clouds that hid the future for a short while. (You are welcome to your own opinion.) 62 An Afternoon of Study Elwood Kerby, 43 Yesterday I planned to put in three hours studying to get caught up on back work. I shut myself and books up in the living room. Then I opened my notebook and algebra book. I knew we had an assignment for home work! Oh well, I just telephoned and found what it was. Naturally we had a little extra conversa¬ tion! I closed the door and sat down again. Then found that my pencil was in my coat, and my coat in the hall. So up I hopped, got my pencil and dragged back in to study. By the time I was all settled, some one called, Woodie, come hang up your coat.” Another interruption. Now the coat was hung up and I really got started. One problem was worked when the door opened and in came my sister. I told her to get out, I was studying. Oh yes, but mother said I can’t go to the movies tonight if I don’t!” O.K.! O.K.! Just as I had something worked out in my head—plink, plank, plunk, bang went the piano. Then Ellen said, Come on Woodie, do this duet with me, just once.” So up I got and helped her through practicing. Then I went to work in peace once more. Brr-ring. I answered the telephone; it was for me. One of the gang wanted to talk—so did I. But I lost some time from studying. Anyway, I decided to quit my algebra and get started on another lesson. But before I had opened that book, my mother stuck her head in the door want¬ ing me to come try on a dress. There was more lost time! While she measured the skirt, Baby Snooks came on the radio; I thought I’d just rest and listen to her. But then Henry Aldrich came on. Oh well, I hadn’t wanted to study very much any way; but I read my history and listened to Henry too! I didn’t get much sense out of the history but Henry was fine. One girl friend called up and wanted me to play There’ll be Some Changes made”—she could hear it from our pick¬ up on her radio. Well then, I played a few (20 or 30) more records. When did I stop studying?—oh well, tonight I’m going to study—and no fooling! America Rita Lawless, ’44 The land of the free and the home of the brave.” Those unforgettable words, that were written so long ago, still perch on the lips of all Americans. The land of rolling country sides, fer¬ tile soils, and cities built of steel, forests full of great strong wood to build new homes and make this country a better place in which to live. Tall bridges for large rivers, small bridges for small rivers, all of which were built by strong sturdy men who are really and truly true Americans and who be¬ lieve in freedom. And Uncle Sam,” the one and only man America puts her trusts and hopes in. He builds our Army on the land and our Navy on the sea. They protect us from warring nations who try so hard to disturb our quiet peace, but are too weak to undergo the strong forces of the American liberties and are soon turned away. And so let us join in Lincoln’s words, that touched and still touch the hearts of many true Americans: That these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom and that government of the people by the people, and for the people shall not perish from this earth.” 63 Two-Mile Run R. K. Saunders, ’44 As I sat in the stuffy locker room of the large football stadium, my knees seemed to be playing a tune together. Today was the annual track tournament for about five different schools. The coach tried to rub my shaking legs. As we marched into the open part of the stadium, I don’t know whether it was the cool wind or the large, yelling crowd that made me shake so much. I had been given my instructions and was on the starting line. The runner beside me was my pick of the group. I watched him while he was warming up. He did not seem to be in a hurry, but carried his body with smooth and graceful strides. I took my mind off of him soon enough, as the starter held his gun into the air. Crack! We all dug in for life. I had been given my instructions to take it easy at first. As you may know, there are eight laps required. My first three laps did not tire me, but I noticed that the fellow I liked so well was in front of me along with the rest. But by the end of the fifth lap, two boys had dropped out. This left three of us. When we started on the sixth lap, my feet began to get heavy. The other boy who was in front had dropped back about a half lap behind me. The boy I liked had dropped back beside me. But now he started pulling away. Of course, I did not want him in front of me. I tried to go faster, but my feet felt as heavy as lead. Cinders from the other boys spiked shoes began to pound me in the face. One more lap to go. I thought I could never make it. My mouth was dry, my lips parched, and my tongue felt as if it filled my mouth. I had started dropping. A yell from my fellow students cheered me up. I began gaining on the other boy. There was only a fourth of a lap to go. We came into the home stretch side by side. I could feel his hot breath on my shoulder as he stumbled every few seconds. I could see a blurry outline of the starter waving the finish flag directly ahead of us. One time he caught onto my arm to keep from falling. And then it was all over. We passed the finish line and I was ahead by a foot. A reporter tried to get me to say a few words, but they stuck in my throat. My school was proud to claim the Two-Mile Run Cup.” 64 The Forest Maiden Louise McCrary, ’44 In a small clearing at the edge of a great forest of dark pine trees, Shining Star, a lovely Indian maiden, was stand¬ ing alone under one of the green giants. She moved from side to side as if she were seeking someone. The maiden looked in several places and then stood waiting. Nothing happened, so she called out in a distressed voice, Swift Arrow, Swift Arrow! Where are you?” She waited sev¬ eral minutes and finally heard what she was waiting for. I come, Shining Star! Quickly down the forest path, I come to you!” A young Indian brave stepped into the clearing and walked up to Shining Star. The maiden clutched Swift Arrow by the arm and said in a frightened voice, Oh, Swift Arrow a great trouble has come to me!” Swift Arrow looked searchingly in her eyes and replied, A trouble? What is it?” He took both of Shining Star’s hands in his and listened to her reply with grave interest. Shining Star, somewhat calmed by his actions, said in an even voice, An old Chief has come from across the moun¬ tains to visit the lodge of my grandfather —and he wishes me to be his bride.” She finished her last words with a sob. Swift Arrow said in a troubled voice, But you are to be my bride, Shining Star!” So I have promised you,” answered Shining Star, But what shall I say to my Grandfather?” Swift Arrow gazed off into space and asked, Your Grandfather wishes you to wed this Chief?” The lovely maiden answered in a trembling voice, It is his wish. He has commanded it. Even though I told him it is you I wish to wed.” She paused slightly here and then went on, even though I dislike this Chief who is so old and ugly.” Swift Arrow’s gaze shifted from the horizon to Shining Star’s lovely face and asked, But what is his reason for such a wish?” Shining Star replied, The Chief is very rich and has done many great deeds.” The brave stated in a distressed voice, Shining Star, you cannot wed this 65 stranger—you cannot! Some day, I too shall do great deeds—perhaps I, too may be rich—”. The maiden cut short his sentence and said, I care not for richness and great¬ ness. But what shall I say when my grandfather comes for me? I dare not disobey him. What he commands, I must do!” At the sound of other voices, both the maiden and the brave grew tense. Shin¬ ing Star said in a throaty whisper, It is my grandfather. Go quickly. He must not see you!” The brave answered quickly, I go— but I shall await at the edge of the forest at sunset.” With an assuring squeeze of the maiden’s hand, the brave ran lightly into the darkening shadows of the pines. He had no more than stepped out of sight when Shining Star’s Grandfather glared angrily at her and growled in an angry voice, My daughter, a feast is being pre¬ pared for your wedding. Why are you not arrayed in your finest clothing? Do you not know that your marriage is but an hour away?” Shining Star trembled at the sound of his angry voice. She felt small and very tiny in the presence of her Grandfather. Shining Star said in a small voice no more than a whisper, O, my Grand¬ father! Do not command me to wed this strange and ugly old man!” Her Grandfather spoke in a stern voice, Speak not such words! This Chief is very great! You will have riches and honor.” Shining Star was very frightened and she trembled from the top of her shiny head to her small feet. She tried again, But it is not my wis—.” The Grandfather stopped her angrily and bellowed, Wish? You speak of wishes, you who are but a foolish child. I, your Grandfather, say that you will wed this Chief. I will not see you made the bride of a warrior that has neither wisdom nor wealth, nor honors.” Shining Star cut short his sentence and said But Swift Arrow is young. In time—.” Her Grandfather was so angry at her that he literally roared at her, You, too, are young! You understand nothing of wisdom. It is my wish that you wed this Chief—and you dare not disobey me.” He angrily flung his blanket over his shoulder and tramped out of the clear¬ ing. Shining Star did not know what to do. She knelt on her knees and prayed to the Forest Spirit. The Forest Spirit—her only good friend! In a shaking voice Shining Star prayed, I have no friend who can come to help me—none but the forest itself! Oh, Spirit of the Forest, hear my song and come to me!” Shining Star bowed her head in despair. She heard a soft rustling behind her and she raised her head slowly. It was the Forest Spirit, he had heard her plea. The Spirit’s voice was friendly and comforting to the frightened maiden. I am the Spirit of the Forest. I have come to ask your need of me.” Shining Star felt more relieved, O, Spirit, you have heard the words of my Grandfather, my words, and those of the young warrior, Swift Arrow.” I have,” replied the Spirit sternly. Shining star looked wistfully in the face of the Spirit and asked, Will you not help me to become the bride of my warrior and to be always beside him? I cannot wed the Chief! I cannot!” A mysterious gleam came into the eyes of the kind Spirit, Have no fear, my daughter! Long have you loved the forests with a true heart. Now I shall protect you. Come with me to the edge of the trees where Swift Arrow awaits us.” Shining Star took the beckoning hand of the Spirit and they both melted into the deepening shadows of the pines. The maiden’s Grandfather walked into the clearing in search of her. Shining Star,” his gruff voice roared, Where are you?” 66 The chief entered the clearing for the same purpose as the Grandfather. His cracked old voice wheezed out, “My bride is not yet dressed for the marriage? I fear she may have hidden herself.” Both of the old people called her angrily sev¬ eral times but they received no answer. A soft muffled tread was heard in the dry leaves. “Hark,” the Chief whispered, “some¬ one comes upon the trail.” “Those steps are not the steps of Shining Star,” said the Grandfather. Before their astonished eyes, the Forest Spirit stepped calmly into the clearing. His soft voice wavered out the tense air. “I have come — I, the Spirit of the Forest.” “Welcome, Great Spirit,” said the Chief. “Our humble camp is honored by your presence,” stated the Grandfather. The Spirit replied angrily, “Humble you are before me—yet never have you loved and honored me in your hearts. Your loyalty has been to your greatness, your own deeds. It was your granddaugh¬ ter, Shining Star, who truly loved me without thought of self, and I come, now to tell you that her wish is granted. She shall be forever by the side of Swift Ar¬ row, her beloved, and you cannot change her. For I have changed them to pine trees.” Finishing his say, the Forest Spirit stepped aside and displ ayed two sturdy pine trees. The old men were so aston¬ ished that all they could do was stare. “Pine trees!” whispered the Grand¬ father hoarsely. “The maiden and the warrior!” fin¬ ished the Chief. The Spirit said in a quiet voice so every word would sink in, “For¬ ever they shall live, side by side. And nothing will part them!” Nature Lurty Ross, ’44 Nature is very broad and wide, Her feet touch the ground; her head the sky. Boys and Guns Shirley Kiger, ’41 From using slings, flips, and pea shooters, boys have gone to the more dangerous and destructive air guns and small calibre rifles. These are the despair of people in the suburbs who see their pet birds killed before their very eyes, although they have tempted the boys to try all other targets even up to the size of the osprey. Boys are involved also in many accidental injuries and sometimes deaths of other children and even adults. In one institution there were over 300 children who had been blinded by play guns. More than a billion rounds of .22 cal¬ ibre ammunition have been sold in this country in one year, and a single factory has turned out in the same period in excess of 150,000 rifles. Guns are carried at any season and their use may involve violations of numerous laws and regula¬ tions. The offenses usually are undetected by any officer, however, and the offenders, if caught, generally are ex¬ cused on account of their youth. If we have any kind of gun, we should be careful where we shoot it and at what we shoot. 67 My Purpose Gertrude M. Bloss, ’42 To be a little kindlier With the passing of each day; To leave but happy memories As I go along my way; To use possessions that are mine In service full and free; To sacrifice trivial things For larger good to be; To give of love in lavish way That friendships true may live; To be less quick to criticise More ready to forgive; To use what talents that I have That happiness may grow; To take the bitter with the sweet, Assured ’tis better so; To be quite free from self-intent What ’er the task may be; To help the world’s faith stronger grow And give me eyes to see; To keep my faith in God and right No matter how things run; To work and play and trust Until the journey’s done; God grant to me the strength of heart Of motion and of will; To do my part and falter not This purpose to fulfill. 6 8 The Angels Betty Arnold, ’43 I’m no authority on this subject, but I have had some experience with the neighbors’ children, and write this in hopes of enlightening any poor girl who ignorantly takes on such a task. First of all, if you don’t have an un¬ limited supply of patience and if you don’t like children, don’t even think of accepting such labor. A child anywhere from three to eight years old can ask more questions than a census-taker. Let’s take a typical night with the little dears.” You are wandering around the house wondering what to do, when the doorbell rings. It’s your Aunt Jean asking you to come over and stay with little Bonnie May and Junior while she and Uncle Bill go to the dance. You con¬ sent, because Bonnie May and Junior are such little darlings that they can’t pos¬ sibly give you any trouble. You grab your coat and get in the car with her. Soon you are surrounded by two chat¬ tering children who make enough noise for six. Mother says you’re to read us a bed¬ time story!” screams four-year-old Bonnie. Yes, and I want you to read from my Dick Tracy book,” says Junior who is six. Then they start shouting at each other because Bonnie wants to hear her fairy book read. Their mother separates them and you finally win quiet by a promise to read from both. You know you are safe there, because they are to go to bed at eight and you won’t have time. You get curled up on the studio couch with a child on each side and start off on Dick Tracy In The Haunted House. Just as the famous Mr. Tracy enters the haunted house and is greeted by the tra¬ ditionally blood-curdling scream, the telephone’s shrill voice sends you high in the air. You soon recover from your fright and answer the phone. Your Hello” is cut into by a silly, tittering voice, Oh, hello Jean, do you remember what I told you about Junie Jones? Well you never would have dreamed it, but —.” After a few futile attempts to break in and tell the woman who you are, you give up. As soon as she finishes her gossipy recital ended by a and what do you think of that?” you reveal your identity and she apologizes, hastily saying good¬ bye. Turning away from the ’phone, you realize it is after eight o’clock. It’s way past time for bed, children, you’ll have to let Mother finish that to¬ morrow.” They both set up a prolonged wail and after some quick thinking you suggest, Let’s play a game; see which one of you can get in bed first, and I’ll be judge.” They fly to the bedroom and, flinging shoes, socks, clothes in all directions, both jump into their beds at the same moment. You hear their prayers, straighten their clothes, and after bringing them numer¬ ous drinks of water, escape to the living room with a book. The hero is casually suggesting that he and the heroine get married, when you hear a shrill voice, Make Junior stop humming so I can go to sleep.” You go in and plead with Junior for five minutes until he promises to stop if you’ll read some more from Dick Tracy. You get the book and read and read. Finally the two children fall asleep to the drone of your weary voice and you tiptoe out. You go back to your book and the house begins to get cold. You are afraid 69 to bother the furnace because the wind is howling around the house at ninety per in what seems to be a six day ’bike race. You decide to sit, wait and shiver. March Wind Bill Lester, ’42 It all happened one day when I sort of drifted together, little by little. I awoke on the outskirts of a town. The first thing I knew an automobile had run through me and I was only half as big as I used to be. I got together as much as I could and went up higher, drifting above the houses and factories. While directly above a large smokestack the smoke began to billow out, and I was soon all black and dirty. I sailed earthward dropping cinders and dust as I got closer. I was directly in front of a door when suddenly it was opened and I felt a draft pulling me in. In there I got the hot seat” because a big fire ate part of me and then sent me rising out of the chimney. I spied a lake over to the left and went drifting toward it. By rubbing against the water and mixing with the clean air I was soon white again. Back towards town! Suddenly I thought of what fun I could have. Down the street a lady with a large white hat was talking to her husband. I rushed by grabbing both hats, but one was snatched back. I rose higher and carried the other over a big smoke stack leaving it black and sooty. Then I threw it back in the streets to be run over by a car. I blew over signs, trees and anything that got in my way. Soon night stopped my mischief because I like to see what I am doing. I drifted all night long, and when I awoke the next morning I couldn’t see the earth. Today I’m off to new adventures and here comes my first victim. I’ll be back as soon as I blow the feathers off this bird! The Unfinished Letter Ann Blackwell, ’43 All night the Germans had kept up their bombing. In the air raid shelter were many men, women and little children. Some of them were hungry, diseased, cold, and heart¬ broken. All night the brave patrolmen had kept up their watchful waiting; waiting patiently for the dawn. For then, and only then, would the German raiders turn back from where they had come. Next day brave English people went about rebuilding their town and burying those who had been killed. Among the dead and wounded, a dog was discovered lying stiffly, but faith¬ fully beside a letter. The letter read: (To my daughter) Dear Baby: Please be brave, always, just for daddy! Tomorrow we shall move into our most dangerous task. I don’t even expect to see you again, but always look to God for help. Under a brick in the corner of the fire¬ place you will find what little money I was able to save. You and baby brother take it and go to America. There might even be enough to take some other little orphans with you—to that land of peace —and something else important . . . This was all, but several yards away was found a man. He was side-by-side with a German spy. Weeks later a little girl boarded a refugee ship. She was clutching the hand of her small brother and that of an evidently parentless child. The sun was setting, and just as the ship dropped over the western horizon; the wailing of the air raid siren warned the people to take shelter for the night. 70 Escape Jack Ellison, ’43 The halls of the great building were menacingly dark and empty as he stepped from the shadows of the heavy door. Glancing furtively up the long corridor, he motioned to a dark shape behind him. Suddenly, two figures darted across the dimly lit hall to a row of steel lockers. Their hearts pounded so that the fugi¬ tives feared they might give themselves away in their daring attempt to escape. A quiet click, doors opened wide, and the hurrying figures struggled for a moment to get into their coats. Then, another muffled click, and the two usually apathetic figures were scurrying down the shadowed steps. Daylight ahead! They became more cau¬ tious as they approached the door. What a terrible existence they would later lead, if they were caught now. Creeping toward the door, they were amazed to find no guard at the east en¬ trance. It would be easier than they had anticipated. The desperate look left their faces. With just the suggestion of a swagger, the two strolled carelessly to the door and out into the bright sunlight. Then again they were seized with the thought of capture, and as one, they plunged around the corner, up the long walk, and away . . . for thirty minutes of extra freedom! Johnny and Jimmie had cut Wednes¬ day’s Assembly Period again. 71 Just a Song Lucy Lou Floyd, ’41 I am a song, not a song such as is pop¬ ular in America today, whose words must rhyme with June, love, moon, or other such inanities. I am a song that was born during a Revolution, that was torn from the lips of a valiant people as they marched against oppression and tyranny. Just a song,” some people say scorn¬ fully, but such is my power that four hundred new volunteers joined my ranks when they heard me sung for the first time. My first title was not impressive. I was simply called a war hymn by my composer, a poet and a musician, who had become involved in a war, as such ethereal beings often are. Perhaps the war was not completely justified, but he believed in it, as did the mayor of the city where the poet was quartered. My composer even went to prison for me, shouting my words defiantly on his lips. The rulers of the day, cowering behind their palaces, refused to hear me. That was their mistake. I stirred the blood of the common people because I was born of turmoil and strife. So carried away were they with my re¬ frains that they gave me a new name, an erroneous one to be sure, but the one by which I am still known. Just a song,” you say. But wait. I’m more than that. Ym the voice of a gal¬ lant people, used to sorrow and trouble. Because of me, they rose up once; and because of me, they will conquer again. I cannot be killed. They may destroy copies of me and forbid anyone to sing me, but as long as one of my country¬ men lives, I shall live also. I am eternal. As long as hope lives in the hearts of my people, I shall exist and lead my people to the peaceful goal toward which they strive. I cannot be extinguished by such methods as are used because I am deeply etched into the heart of every loyal patriot, an integral part of him. I am as much a part of him as is his fierce love of country. I breed discontent among the down¬ trodden. My words and music have stirred up the common people against autocracy four times in the past two centuries. They will rise again Even now the conquerors in their pro¬ tected homes stir uneasily, as from a dis¬ tance they seem to hear my strains. The sound of marching feet and the stirring of the dormant pride in country reach them and make them uneasy. They have a right to be thus, for my vengeance is terrible and awesome. The bloodiest revolution in history saw my birth, and death always comes to my oppressors. I am always there, an omnipresent re¬ minder of the fate of their predecessors. Even as my composer languished in prison, so now are my people, for their country is no more than a prison. The conquerors would do well to study my history, for once before my people de¬ molished a prison with my words on their lips to spur them on. With my history and background, how can people think Fll ever die? Dic¬ tators come and go, but I live on. I am the voice of France. I am the Marseillaise! For What? Marylin Dameron, 43 Always at the end of every hour they stand in front of the mirror—combing hair, pulling this little curl in its own place, or putting on fresh make-up. There is a problem for twelve or more girls to look in the same mirror at one time, and several girls are late for class waiting to find even a small corner to use. But for what is all this constant re¬ pairing? 72 Meditation on Swing Dedicated to Johnnie Robson’s Orchestra Teresa Knapp, ’43 A maestro sleek and debonair Raises a harmless stick in the air. ‘ ' Harmless,” did I hear myself say? Harmless, yes, in a round-about-way. Two pairs of monkeys ranged in rows Slapping out on two pairs of bows; Then two boys from the institute Waver in on Mozart’s Magic Flute.” A worm at a horn who gives no calm— Insults the memories of Brahms. Two trombones tall and brown Blow out their brains and then sit down. Then someone—believe it or not— Gets in the groove and then gets hot On a groaning pipe that is quite well known Among more primitive people as a sax¬ ophone. The drummer on the topmost row Clashes a cymbal and is raring to go. The music ends with a blare of brass That would shame the art of an honest ass. Could Caesar Franck and Mayerbeer See what was going on in here, Could Strauss look in, and Hemperdenck They would all fly back to their graves, I think, Hop in and close the lid and say, Why do people have to get that way?” The apple tree was beginning to sprout in spots of green like an unfinished jigsaw puzzle. Betty Arnold 73 Senior Class Will We, the Senior Class of 1941, being of passably sound minds—although we will never be able to prove it—and decidedly unsound bodies after the four hard years and the sleepless nights of Chaucer, Com¬ mercial law, and geometry, possessing un¬ usually sweet dispositions and many highly desirable traits and belongings, feel that if we leave with all these traits with us, the school will be changed for the worse (??). Therefore, we take time out to make this, our first and probably last will and testament. First of all, Frances Andes leaves her dignity to Barbara Bennett. Verlin Baker leaves his good looks to Charles Patterson advising him to get his beauty sleep. Warren Barger leaves his good manners to James Burton so he’ll have something useful to do next year. Harry Bloss leaves the phrase ' ' speak only when spoken to” to Jimmie Elling¬ ton, who could make use of it. George Brady leaves his fascinating tan to Oliver Elliott with a bottle of skin lotion. Harry Lee Brooks leaves his accident insurance policy to E. H. Bailey, telling him to have a good beneficiary. Billy Bush leaves his foot space in the aisles to Alfred Winters so he can move his feet around. Carl Byrd leaves his driving ability to Craig Little with the warning that brakes are needed when going over 75. Madeline Campbell leaves her con¬ tagious giggles to Miss Royston. Caroline Carr leaves her lady-like manners to Jean Mattox in hopes she will profit by them. Carmen Coleman’s neat hair styles go to Louise Deputy along with a comb with special instructions not to use it in the cafeteria. Phyllis Coles reluctantly leaves her dancing ability to Beverly Webb in order that there will be one good dancer left in school next year. Virginia Comer’s tom-boyish ways are bequeathed to Betty Wise Wright. Buddy Critzer wills his ability to skip basketball practice to Lloyd Fisher with the warning to keep an eye open for coach. Lawrence Critzer leaves his wind- racked frame to Paul Fisher. Louise Critzer leaves her special park¬ ing place on Wayne Avenue to Joyce Fitzgerald. Mae Daughtry leaves her swift speech to Harriet Rankins for use in English class. Mattie Daughtry leaves her fountain pen to her sister, Sarah, and asks her to keep it in circulation. Ann Davis leaves her witty expressions to Mr. Fentress for future samples or examples. Carl Deimling leaves his childish ways to Mr. Chew so that he can use them on Junior.” Marvis DeMoll leaves her Fishburne pins to Barbara Bennett saying, Watch the safety catches.” McCarthy Driver leaves his love for Juanita Feaganes to Miss Royston to treat with due respect. Evaline Dudley leaves her seat in the council to anyone who is willing to put up with it. James Dugger leaves his friend Burton to Patsy Etter with instructions not to keep him up late at night. Maxine Dugger, still a little dazed, hands down her poetic ability to Buddy Mason with this thought, Poems are made by fools like me.” Billy Fauber gladly gives his ability to cheer up a dull history class by falling off a chair to anyone who’s not afraid of getting hurt. Juanita Feaganes leaves her natural 74 beauty to Betty Wright so she won’t look so artificial. Frances Fisher leaves her friendly dis¬ position to Inez Ingram, hoping she will make better use of it. Lucy Lou Floyd leaves her nickname, Pucy Foo,” to Dorothy Dodd, so she’ll have something to break the monotony. Janet Forrestel leaves her ability to speak out of turn to any unfortunate Junior who will take it. Joan Forrestel leaves her curlers to Louise Deputy and begs her to make use of them. Alvin Frank leaves his desk in book¬ keeping class to any boy who can tolerate all girl classmates and still not be hen¬ pecked. Alice Franklin leaves her quiet ways (in school) to her sister Buck”, who surely can use them. Elsie Goodson leaves her sarcastic re¬ marks to Miss Greene to change the mon¬ otony of English class. Jo Ann Harmon leaves her journalistic work to Ellen Kerby. Sutton Henkel leaves his pep appeal to Billy Gardner with a list of foods that contain vitamins. Carolyn Harmon leaves a few inches of her hair to Miss Haneline to keep her ears warm. Maynard Hildebrand leaves his friendly arguments with Mr. Chew to Bill Mathis. Kenneth Hiserman leaves his love for Beverly Webb to Jack Ellison so she won’t be without admirers next year. Marguerite Johnson leaves her temper to Nadine Saunders with the receipt for quieting it. Betty Hutchins leaves her natural blonde hair to Violet Kennedy with much reluctance. Charlotte Kite leaves her 5-and- 10c store jewelry to her sister, hoping she won’t wear it. Bobby Knapp leaves his singing ability to Nelson Pharr for use in assembly pro¬ grams only. David Lamb leaves his bashful and neat ways to Louis Bean who could make use of them. Phyllis Lawhorn bequeaths her skates to Lucille Niedenthol saying, Slow up for the curves.” Mack Lester leaves his tardiness to Jesse McCoury telling him to find better excuses next year. Red Lonas leaves his red jacket to Eugene Frazier who will need it for cer¬ tain reasons. Zane Lowman leaves her basketball suit to Jean McGann warning her of weak seams. Hazel Marion leaves her blushes” to Teresa Knapp telling her to use only when embarrassed. Bernard Lowry leaves his ability to fil¬ ibuster to the oncoming Seniors to keep them from taking tests next year. Suzanne Marsh wills her stuck-up ways to Jean Mattox to add to her col¬ lection. Janet McCartney leaves her place be¬ hind Haney’s soda fountain to anyone who can take it and she does mean take it. Noma McCauley leaves her quiet air to Sam Patton with the reminder that children are to be seen and not heard. Jackie McWin wills her tap dancing to Beverly Webb so there will be one good one in school to carry on. Jean Branaman gets Chase MacPher- son’s English accent to add to her Eng¬ lish ways. Charles Ray Minter leaves his hand¬ writing to Mr. Fentress for improve¬ ment. Charles Morris leaves his ability to flirt to just anyone who has that much charm with the reminder that Practice Makes Perfect.” Charles Moyer leaves his place beside Dorothy Kite to anyone who wishes to carry on. 75 Jean Moyer leaves her neatness to Elinor Lawless with instructions. Margaret Muse leaves her place in the basement to Constance Arnold warning her about morning announcements. Annie Owens leaves her place in the office to anyone who can meet the re¬ quirements. Fielder Pitzer leaves his laugh to Lloyd Fisher hoping that he won’t disturb others. Max Quillen wills his style of dancing to Owen Coyner. Jean Sipe leaves her chair at the beauty parlor to another blond. Marjorie Spradlin leaves her work for Miss Wright to another capable secretary. Ruby Ross turns her map of Fisher- ville over to Flelen Roberts, reminding her to stay in her own designated terri¬ tory. Rosana Palmer leaves her scholastic and collegiate looks to Peggy Wine so she will at least have that to go on. Robert Owens leaves his height to Mae so she can be told from Fae. Chester Moore leaves his bullslinging to Bill Mathis who already has a good start. Bonnie Sayre leaves her paper route to anyone who wants to get around at New Hope. Woodrow Stone leaves his title Man¬ ager” to Douglas Fisher, telling him to carry on.” Margaret Tanner leaves her red hair to Vivian Stout with instructions on how to make it shine. Clara Terrell hands down her make¬ up to her sisters, hoping there will be enough to go around. George Thurneau leaves his ability to sleep in class to any one who has the urge to do so and the nerve to try it. Charles McNabb leaves three inches of the height he has been willed in previous years to Charles Patterson so he too can become a man. Ellen Stout leaves her athletic ability to Woodie Kerby. Kenneth Sanders wills his golden silence to Jean McGann. Thomas Sanders wills his neatness to Paul Fisher. Zora Wagner leaves her ability to write poetry to Alfred Winters, because his feet look like Longfellows’s. Ruby Niedenthol leaves her skating ability to Margaret Davis so she can avoid the bumps. Kathleen Yancey leaves her ability to look after other girls’ boyfriends to Mary Reach. To the faculty, as a whole, we leave. Given under our sign and seal this fourteenth day of March, Nineteen Hundred and Forty-One. The Senior Class Daily Marathon Zelma Ried, ’42 Slam!” goes the starter’s signal, and we’re off down the well-beaten track that has seen many such races in all kinds of weather. The race will be a touch-and- go affair, and who would dare to guess at what the outcome will be? A familiar landmark looms up in the foggy distance as we near the end of the first lap. Leading by a nose, we pass it at an amazing speed. Will we be able to keep up with the astounding pace? We pass the half-way mark, slowing down a little, but keeping a steady jog. Then, with only a few seconds left to go, we see our goal against the skyline. Almost dropping with fatigue, and panting for dear life, we cross the threshold of room 205 as the tardy bell rings. Once more we have raced old Father Time and come out the winner. 76 White Dresses Frances Morris, 42 Carrying several sticks of fire wood, Aunt Candace came into the poorly fur¬ nished Negro cabin. Because she had rheumatism very badly, she had to walk with a cane. As she waited for her niece to come back from the big house where she was washing, Aunt Candace sat down in a chair near the fireplace and moaned with pain. Finally Mary came home, tired but very excited, because she had made five dollars. “Look here, Aunty, what Mistah Henry sent you,” said Mary. “He said as ’twas Christmas time he sent you this.” She gave her aunt a bundle which con¬ tained several cooked sweet potatoes, sausages, spare ribs, and some boiled ham. Finally Aunt Candace spoke, “Honey, my haid’s been bad off. Miss Mawgin must a had a pow’ful washin’ up at de big house. Mistah Henry ain’t nevah been dat kind befo .” Mary put the money away in a little tin box and gave Aunt Candace some of the spare ribs to eat. Aunt Candace ate greedily, licking the grease off her fingers. Suddenly she uttered a low scream and held her head. Mary ran to the mantel to get the medicine and spoon. “It’s your poor head, Aunty,” she said. “You rest easy. I’ll take care of you.” “It’s bettah now, honey,” said Aunt Candace. “Put that medicine back. I ain’t gwine take none, now.” Mary put the medicine back on the mantel and sat down beside her aunt. Aunt Candace stopped eating and looked at Mary’s dreaming face. Then she said excitedly, “Honey, what makes you look like dat? Mistah Henry ain’t said ... he ain’t said no mo’ ’bout us havin’ to leave, has he?” “No’m, he . . . no’m, he said ... he said today that he’d ’bout decided to let us stay right on as long as we please.” Aunt Candace felt better after this. Mary put on a clean dress and a white ribbon in her hair, as she was looking for her boy friend, Jim Matthews, to come. Usually Jim brought his guitar with him. When Jim came that evening, he had his guitar. He greeted Mary and Aunt Candace with a casual, “Good evening.” “You chillun go on wid yo’ cou’tin’,” said Aunt Candace. “Ne’ min’ me. I’s gwine peel my ’taters.” Then Jim began, “Er . . . Miss Mary, you’s lookin’ ’ceedin’ snatching wid dat whit ribbon in yo hair. I’s glad to see you. Yes’m, I tells all the gals you got ’em beat a mile. From here slam to France an’ back, I ain’t seed no gals lak you. Yes’m, dat’s what I tells em all, an’ I orta know, kaze I’s an ol’ road nigger. I’s seen de world, I has.” He asked Mary to marry him, but she refused. He played her a tune on his “music box” as Aunt Candace called it. As Jim was preparing to leave, there was a knock on the door of the old Negro cabin. Mary and Jim were startled. Jim answered the door, and Mary’s face fell as she saw that it was the landowner. He had come to tell Mary and Aunt Can¬ dace that they would have to move unless Mary would get married so they could have somebody to support them and pay the rent. Mr. Morgan also brought Mary a box that his son had sent her. Aunt Candace opened the box and found that it was a white dress. Mary cried joyously, It’s for me, it’s mine.” In those days, when a white dress was given to anybody, it was thought that a spell was on them. When Mary’s mother died, she had left Mary a white dress, but Aunt Candace had never given it to Mary because she knew there was a spell on it. 77 Aunt Candace was very upset when she saw the white dress. She cried out, I’s a-feared on it. I knowed it ... I knowed it. Oh, Lawdy! Oh Lawdy! My po’ li’l gal!” She told Mary to bring her the little black box that had been hid¬ den ever since Mary’s mother had died. Taking the box, Aunt Candace took out the white dress. Mary grabbed it and held it tightly to her breast. Aunt Candace snatched it away and said, Gimme dat dress.” Mary tried to cling to it, but her aunt jerked it from her hands and hob¬ bling to the fireplace, she laid both dresses carefully on the flames. Jim made a movement to save them, but she waved him back with her stick. Git back, nig¬ ger!” she said, Git back!’ ’Dis night I’s gwine wipe out some o’ the traces o’ sins.” Mary sat in her chair, crying. As the dresses burned, Aunt Candace came to her and laid her hand on her head and said, I knows yo’ feelins, chile, but yo’s got to smother ’em. Yo’s got to smother ’em in.” Jim came up to Mary and said, Miss Mary, don’t look lak dat. I’s gwine to do better. Honey, I’s gwine make you a good man.” Then he took up his guitar and sang, Lyin’ in a jail house, a-peepin’ th’ough de bars. . . .”. Traffic Jam Reggie Ruckman, ’43 There goes the bell for noon, and I am out of gym class into the midst of a hun¬ dred rushing students who are running a race to the cafeteria line. The first group crowds by as I shrink close to the wall and grab a railing. Then come more; I hang onto it until, by moving with the pressure of the throng, I gain the third floor. Here I catch hold of a locker as a class dismissed late speeds by. Finally I get my lunch and slip into the room. Now for the first time since the bell rang I feel secure. How to Write for 77 Scribblings 77 Robert Campbell, ’43 First, you get some paper that the teacher doesn’t like, then use a hard lead pencil with a dull point, although the teacher did say to write in ink. Never hand your composition in on time as the teacher might begin to expect too much from you. Stall around for a few days. Then choose an old theme like the one about the boy and the girl; boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy wins girl back; or the old one about the boy who makes a touchdown with only thirty seconds to go to win with a score of thirteen to twelve. If you don’t think you can write one, copy one out of a magazine or get someone to write a story for you. If the teacher doesn’t like it then, it won’t be your fault. Always be sure to write so the teacher can’t read it. Mis¬ spelled words add a lot to the story. The two more important things are to use incorrect sentences, and never to sign your name to your paper. If your paper doesn’t get in Scribblings” no one can say you didn’t try. A Miracle Katie Herron, ’43 The stars were shining brightly: the world stood still. A clean sheet spread upon our window¬ sill. And everything was cover’d, everything was white: The earth achieved a new coat on a wintry night. The eager flakes flit tumbling, twinkling down As if to gather on the frozen ground. And form a wond’rous robe for us to know ! What shimm’ring beauty lies within the snow. 78 The Birth of a Nation Maynard Hildebrand, ’41 (Produced and directed by D. W. Griffith. First released in 1916 and then again in 1940. Taken from the story The Klansman.”) This picture gave me a great surprise. On my way to the theater yesterday afternoon I couldn’t help laughing at the idea of this being the greatest motion picture ever made. You would probably have laughed too, had you just finished seeing four days of continual running of Gone With The Wind,” which almost everyone is sure is the greatest picture of all time. But once inside the theater, I changed my tune. As frame after frame passed before my eyes, I began to marvel at the artistry and productive genius that was put forth twenty-five years ago. Gone With The Wind” dealt with the South before, during, and after the Civil War, but it did not show or impress me as to how bad the conditions in the South were at this period of its history. It only showed how the aristocracy of the South was affected and not how the average man was affected. But Birth of a Nation” did. Here before my eyes was pictured the awful hardships and suffering of war. Here was shown the gallant deeds and heroism of the sons of battle. Because of this picture I realized for the first time that the wounds of the South would have healed more quickly had Lincoln not been assassinated, and the Klu Klux Klan was largely responsible for her recovering as quickly as she did. Of course some say there is no compar¬ ison between these two pictures, and that if there is any doubt in your mind as to which is the better picture, another showing of Gone With The Wind” will clear it up instantly. But I don’t agree. I think when you take into consideration the primitive and crude methods of movie production twenty-five years ago, you immediately see Birth of a Nation” from another angle. Technicolor and sound effects played a large part towards putting over The Wind.” But when The Nation” was produced, sound and color photography were among the things that were yet to come. Even plain black and white pho¬ tography was still in its pioneer stage. Yet, amid the flickers and the flashes, I saw a picture that I now regard as the greatest ever produced. For although men doubled up with pain and agony from the battle and never uttered a sound, your imagination played the part of the sound track. And even though cannons bucked and guns smoked and kicked and never a sound was heard, you could still hear the turmoil and feel the intensity of the battle. Yes, I think Birth of a Nation” sur¬ passes anything ever produced. Funny Books? Katie Herron, ’43 Why do they call them funny books When their readers never smile, But frown and grunt and stretch about, Reading funnies all the while? They read about The Batman” As well as The Shield.” They glance at The Shadow” And spud Marlow’s” flying field. They simply adore The Superman” And worship Johnny Thunder.” Why do they call them funny books? But why? . . . We wonder . . . 79 Stardust Louise McCrary, ’44 It was on the first day of April that Stardust saw the light of early morn. He was a springy-legged, wobbly colt feeling very strange in a bright new world. The colt had a white star in the middle of his forehead between the eyes. His coat was a beautiful glossy sorrell, a reddish brown in coloring. And all the time his bushy short tail wiggled with happiness and contentment. Lassie, his mother, sniffed him several times and watched as he tried to stand erect on his feet. He succeeded at last with much effort. Stardust stood there in the warm sunshine with his legs spread queerly in front of him. He held his head erect and sniffed at his mother’s nose. He liked it very much. Suddenly he found that he was hungry and looked for nourishment. After he had filled his lean belly with warm milk, he stretched his full length out on the soft grass and went soundly asleep. Meanwhile, his mother was wandering here and there looking for food, juicy green grass. She did not notice a figure standing not more than five yards behind her. The man twirled a rope and caught her by the neck. The captured horse screamed a warning to Stardust to stay where he was. The little colt woke at the sound of his mother’s warning and watched the man get on a horse and lead her away. Stardust had never seen a man before, and he stood trembling from his small head to his dainty hoofs. From then on he knew he would hate a man no matter where he was. The colt would never forget the agony he suffered as he saw the cowboy lead his mother away. He would never forget that scene. Giving no attention to danger or ene¬ mies, Stardust wandered from the bush in which he was hidden to a clearing near by. Suddenly he felt something settle gently around his neck. He began to 80 The Cavalier’s Vengeance Bennie Beagle, ’44 tremble and shake. Then he grew taunt and waited for what would happen next. He saw a man approach him uncertainly. The memory of his mother was still fresh in his mind and he began to kick and jump as he had never done before. Then he grew very weak and fell to the ground. He knew he was overpowered. The colt felt himself sinking into blackness as in a dream. He knew no more. When Stardust opened his eyes, he found himself in a very strange box. He was lying on something soft and enticing. He felt something spongy in his mouth. Then he tasted warm milk. He drank to his content and felt much better. Then he looked up into the friendly face of the stranger that had brought him here. It was a friendly face and he liked it. He didn’t know why, but he knew the kind face bending over him would not hurt him in any way. The colt knew he had found a friend. The man was so aston¬ ished at the colt’s action that all h e could say was, Well, I’ll be doggone!” Star¬ dust liked the mellow sound of his soft drawling voice. It was music to the colt’s ears. Stardust knew he was in good hands. He went to sleep—. My Day of Reckoning Merl De Moll, 44 I thought I might as well give my re¬ port card to my father and have it over with. I walked into the living room where he was sitting and handed it to him. He looked at it for a moment and then looked up at me. He said, Merl, is this the best you can do?” Yes sir,” I muttered. Then,” he said, Come on upstairs with me.” It seemed like my heart was in my throat when he said that because I knew what was coming—a whipping and with his big rawhide belt. Swords flash in the sun, a groan and the cavalier’s ve ngeance is half done. All night he has ridden through the dark To avenge his father now cold and stark, He has ridden hard and at the break of day He killed one of the slayers in the fray. He wipes the blood from his slender sword And mounts his charger to escape the soldier horde. This brave knight of brain and brawn Urges his mount to the speed of a fawn. He spies his enemy bold and cruel And promptly challenges him to a duel A flash! A groan! And our cavalier gazes down on the slain one. The cavalier’s vengeance has been done. My Foretold Destiny Bennie Beagle, ’44 I had never been to a fortune teller before. I wouldn’t have gone then, but for the reason that a Ramsey never takes a chance. One of my friends had dared me to go to a fortune teller alone in the quarter of a town in East Africa. As I entered the grimy tent, an odor more foul than that of the streets reached my nostrils. An Arab was sitting on a cushion with a narrow box of sand on his lap. Oh, the Sahib wishes to have fortune told in ancient sand of Sahara?” Yes,” I replied. He went into a trance. He muttered many things, but the thing that seemed to impress me most was: You die, Sahib, by air or water,” he said. Take,” he continued as he threw me an iron coin, It will keep you safe.” I still have that coin and never go boating, swimming or riding in an air¬ plane without it. 81 Salt and Wine Elsie Goodson, 41 It was noon. Rimming the ancient val¬ ley of Uz, giant saw-toothed rocks stood out boldly against the turquoise blue of the sky. Above and over them the sun poured its withering, scorching heat. The few dwarfed palms and stunted bits of sage upon the sandy waste withered and drooped under its intensity. At noon the land seemed but a barren, burning waste, incapable of sustaining either animal or vegetable life. But not so! There, squatting, half concealed, in a small ravine close within the shadows of the giant rocks, a hut of mud and sticks, fenced about with dead thorn brush, fully spiked, thrust itself boldly into the picture. This thorny stockade around the hut not only offered protection against the beasts of prey which roamed the mountains and plateau to the east, but also served to keep within a small herd of goats. These were the main food supply of Ziah and her Arab father, Akem. Ziah and Akem were a strange pair, living a strange life in the desert vastness of Kabuel. Ziah, with her blue eyes, her black hair and softly rounded body was a maiden lovely to look upon. Her skin, tanned brown by wind and sun, was soft and smooth as velvet and its very brown¬ ness added to her charm. Standing at the gate of the enclosure, her graceful figure was poised in eager anticipation. A slim brown hand shaded her eyes from the glare of the sun. The girl gazed off across a low-lying valley of sand. A cloud of dust appeared on the horizon and floated slowly in her direc¬ tion. Ziah’s blue eyes sparkled as a smile of expectation lighted her face. Abule!” she murmured with bated breath. He promised to come today. I must change these rags for something brighter,” she laughed softly. Another look with wistful eyes and she ducked into the low doorway. She slipped into a cool white robe, and tied a scarlet sash around her waist. Delicate hands smooth¬ ed satin hair as she again appeared in the sunshine. Allah help me!” Ziah exclaimed fer¬ vently. To her consternation she saw the gate open and two goats outside the en¬ closure. In the attending excitement of the expected visit, she had left the gate open. Father will beat me if he finds that I have been careless with the goats.” She ran through the open gateway and tried to head off the fleeing beasts. But they, scenting freedom in the sage and open spaces, ran nimbly on toward the plateau. Come, Juda! Come, Bebe!” she pleaded as she chased them fleetly. Pres¬ ently they disappeared over the top of a sharp ridge quite a distance from the safe shelter of the thorny stockade. The girl halted on the ridge. Allah, come to my aid,” she prayed silently. Her breath came in huge gasps and she sank to the sand to rest. The dust cloud still advancing re¬ minded her of the rider. But no one rider could make that much dust.” Ziah reasoned, startled by the fact that there were several men in the oncoming dust cloud. Presently she distinguished a huge white stallion in the lead. The White Horse Raiders!” she gasped, horror choking her voice. Then she recalled the many horrible tales, car¬ avan gossip, of the notorious Sachem del Rey and his band of desert marauders. She had often heard her father speak of Sachem del Rey, but she had thought of the stories only as idle ones. Beguiling to the weary desert travelers, but to her they had been only highly colored improbabil- 82 ities. No one believed them. Nor had she. She shuddered. Here the raiders were. And everything tallied with the descriptions. Those superb mounts! The black bearded leader! And the tremen¬ dous horse he rode! The frightened girl crouched lower among the rocks and watched. The men dismounted outside the palisade, tied their horses and entered the gate. And I thought it was Abule!” Ziah moaned. The men roughly forced a bound pris¬ oner into the hut. Another shudder shook her, for she knew that with her father gone from home, she would be at their mercy if they found her. Again all the stories she’d heard of plunder, burning, pillage and murder flitted through her mind. She feared that they would burn the hut and release the goats, leaving her without food or shelter until the return of her father. With a daring born of desperation, Ziah began swiftly to put a feverish plan into action. She slunk through the gate, around the hut and into a shed at the rear. She grasped a heavy sack, which she dragged through the gate with her. Again she went into the shed. This time she brought out a huge jug filled with red wine. She carried this boldly into the back of the hut. The men were seated around the one table, sipping wine they had found in a cupboard and cursing the vileness of it between sips. The unexpectedness of her appearance silenced the men and caused them to sit motionless, staring. She deposited the jug on the floor and reached for the empty pitcher on the table. Deftly eluding del Rey’s grasp, she smiled sweetly and spoke, I have brought sweet wine for my father’s guests. They should have nothing but the best. I am sorry he is not here to greet you, perhaps he will return tonight. Drink and make yourselves at home.” She moved swiftly around the table, filling each glass as she passed. She saw the bound prisoner huddled in a dusky corner and almost cried out as she recog¬ nized Abule. He frowned but kept his silence as del Rey attempted to caress the slim girl. She smiled but moved away from him. Again and again she made the rounds, filling each mug as it was emptied. The ruffians laughed, joked, cursed and sang, as they called her their angel, a gift from Allah, for their re¬ freshment on the hot, dry desert. After an hour of this, many of them showed signs of drowsiness and one fell to the floor, in a drunken stupor. She breathed a sigh of relief to see that her efforts had not been in vain. She danced for them and continued to fill the con¬ tainers. Several more slipped to the floor and even the leader dropped his heavy head on his hands. She started to go out, but he partially rose to follow, so she re¬ turned and put more wine before him. Then she slipped out and led the horses to water, all but the one black stallion of the group. Don’t feel cheated,” she whispered to him, These horses aren’t getting any¬ thing you would want.” He whinnied again softly as she passed him on the way back to the house. The men were lost in the drugged slumber of the drunken. She looked at them with loathing and disgust as she passed them with a knife in her hand. She slashed the bonds from Abule’s legs and arms, shook him roughly by the shoulder. Up, you laggard!” she whispered. We’ve more to do than sleep like these pigs.” Ziah”, Abule said huskily, These dogs caught me on the way here. I had not a chance with the cut-throats. You saved me from torture and death.” I saved you from the butcher’s knife, today,” Ziah laughed teasingly, for a 83 horrible fate tomorrow. We marry then, Prince. Now the stallion of ebony waits for us outside. He’ll carry us to safety.” When the Captain of the White Horse Raiders and his followers finally came out of their drunken stupor, they were very much disgusted to find all their valuables gone. But this was nothing compared to their wrath when they discovered five water-sick horses beside the watering trough inside the compound. That angel girl fed our mounts salt The Old House Russell Cook, ’42 There in a small clearing stood a very dilapidated old shack. Most of the win¬ dows had been replaced by pasteboard and rags. The shutters were faded and helplessly hanging from their rusty hinges. The door had fallen in and could not know that such a luxury as paint existed. The rain and sun had turned the warped weatherboarding a dark ugly color. The old slate roof had fallen in at many places, and even parts of the old brick chimney had crumbled and fallen to earth. The house stood at a very appropriate place, for the whole atmosphere was that of loneliness and desolation. The trees about the house were still and no birds’ songs could be heard from them. The vines and bushes were so thick that the only possible entrance to the house was by a small winding path that had been worn thin by human feet. Tennis Tom Vicar’s, 44 Tennis is my favorite sport. You have to run all over the court, But when it is the opponent’s add, You surely think it’s just too bad. Then when the score is deuce again, You might have a chance to win. last night,” Captain Sachem del Rey said between oaths. Then she turned them loose to fill up on water and now we can’t follow her. The girl filled us full of strong wine, took our money, freed our prisoner, stole the best horse in the lot and skipped out. Bah! We’re a great bunch of robbers!” he spat in disgust. WHITE HORSE RAIDERS! Brave band! Duped by a pretty face. By Allah!” del Rey snorted. Skulking Jackals would be a far better name.” Night Before Graduation Don Hildebrand and Richard Smith, ’44 ’Twas the night before graduation and all through the school Not a person was stirring—not even a fool. The teachers were glad to get rid of their class So they could get out and court at last. The dignified seniors were all slicked up Like uncle Snazzy’s little coon pup. Some of the Juniors were red as a beet, Because they were taking the Seniors’ seat. The passing Sophomores were all puffed up, Because they were no longer second- grade pups. The scruffy Freshmen were no longer rats, Because they were now the sophomore brats. The Tale of the Dead Mug Granville Carlisle, ’41 The mug was dead When I found him in his bed. I buried him well. And in his will, He left me his bill. And after my burying him so well— It made me mad as—oh well. 84 Senior History Four years! Can four years possibly have passed since we, the members of the Senior Class of 1941, entered the portals of Wilson High for the first time? To the over one hundred young people standing in that strange building, it seemed it would be eternity itself before we could reach that magical status and become that demigod—a senior. Now we have reached it, and are lords of all we survey (so we’re told), but, strangely, it doesn’t seem that four years have passed or that we have changed much. True, we are taller, broader (or leaner, as the case may be), and lack the baffled expression so often seen on that embryo Senior— the Freshman; but essentially the only difference that separates the two seem to be these physical characteristics. Let’s look into the scrapbook of mem¬ ories which have accumulated in this time. Perhaps then we can find where those four years have gone. First, there is the picture of over 125 ill-at-ease, gauche, Freshmen, half from Jackson and half from Wenonah. The rivalry between the two grade schools had always been keen, and it was a happy surprise to the students of each that the others were a pretty nice lot. Do you remember our clubs? The Kimler Maury and Kimler Cary Literary Societies had been an institution for years for Freshmen, but we fixed them! The clubs groaned and tottered through our three months’ membership, and then col¬ lapsed, to rise no more. What memories this Freshman year evokes. Mr. Chew popping questions like What makes you walk?” How does a straw work?” on unwary pupils. Mrs. Davies trying to distill algebra. The struggle of the gallant few who tangled with amo, amas, amat,” under Miss Royston. And, above all, Miss Darden, sweetheart of the Freshmen. Will you ever forget the plays we wrote; plays in which Fielder Pitzer was Moses, Wanda Baker was the Pharoah’s daughter, and Evaline Dudley was Moses’ mother, and that other masterpiece with John Robson as Jupiter, king of the Gods; Evaline Dudley a Juno, queen of the Gods; Jo Ann Harman as Venus, goddess of Beauty, and Lucy Lou Floyd as Minerva, goddess of Wisdom? This year saw the evolution of Peck’s Bad Boys headed by Sutton Henkel and Charles Morris, the antics of which led Miss Darden to make such rash state¬ ments as, The next one of you that makes any noise is going to have to sit on my lap!” The resulting din would have done credit to a boiler factory. On April eighteenth of our Freshman year, the school moved en masse to the new Waynesboro High School. Thus we proudly became the first class which would enter the new building as Fresh¬ men and spend four years in it. Our officers this year were Sutton Henkel, Alvin Frank, and Charles McNabb. On another page of the scrapbook, we see reminiscences of our Sophomore year. Our members were astonished to find that some of its erstwhile tomboys had come out of their chrysalises full-blown glamour girls, seemingly over night. Other talents emerged from time to time and we found dancers, singers, authors, orators, debaters, and actors in our midst as we moved nearer our goal — Senior- hood. Tragedy struck our youthful hearts when, in our Sophomore year, one was taken away from us who had always been a symbol for clean, up-right boyishness. Dickie had a carefree, good-natured ap¬ peal never again equalled for us, and when word of his death was announced, the entire class was shocked and bereaved. He had been a friend to the low as well as the high. 85 This year our officers were Warren Barger, Sutton Henkel, and Phyllis Coles. Our Junior year evolved with few ap¬ parent changes in the pupils. The first day of the new school year, every Junior sat motionless at some time or other in a room, scared to breathe, much less speak. Need I say it was Mr. Fentress’ room? Flow surprised we were when we sur¬ vived and thrived instead of being de¬ voured, as we had been assured would happen. A cockiness came out in us, for after all we were the understudies of the Sen¬ iors. Our delegates to Boys’ State—Fielder Pitzer, Jim Patton, Verlin Baker, and Warren Barger—were chosen. Three of our number became editors of the school paper and guided it into first place at the S. I. P. A. Convention. The spring Dramatic Festival had many Juniors in the plays and our school’s sports were riddled with them. Soon came the biggest affair of the year to us, the Junior-Senior Prom. That dance will live in the social records of Waynesboro High. Not only did we give the Seniors a dance to remem¬ ber, but we also allowed other guests, at an admission fee, of course, and raised a lot of money for our Senior year! Re- plenent with Junior mothers as servers, an orchestra, evening clothes, and even a queen of the festival, the dance seemed to have everything. Those responsible for guiding us through this successful year were Verlin Baker, Sutton Henkel (gets kind of monotonous, doesn’t it?), and Carl Deimling. In the spring of this year, two of our number, Warren Barger and Evaline Dudley, became president and secretary, respectively, of the student body. Now we are Seniors. Such a simple statement, but, oh, so much work behind it. After eleven years, less or more for some, we’ve reached that mythical state which borders on the divine right of kings.” And when I say mythical, I really mean it. No sooner did we reach this stage than we were abruptly disillusioned by heartless teachers who said we acted worse than Freshmen. Well, after all, if you can’t cut loose when you’re on top, when can you? On us has fallen the mantle of Senior- hood, and we carried it so well that one guest speaker knew which group was the Seniors because of the way they walked down the aisle! This class can be satisfied when it sur¬ veys its record. This year, some of its members were responsible for the student ticket, the band, and the rejuvenation of the annual. We’ve made our mark in every phase of school life and we’ve even learned to talk back to Mr. Fentress. Be¬ lieve me, that’s an achievement! Not bad for a class of which one teacher said in our Sophomore year there were no leaders, is it? All in all, we should be smugly satis¬ fied, but the surprising thing is that now that we’re almost through school, we begin to realize the blessing we have had. The thought that our graduation will possibly be the last time we shall all be together is rather awe-inspiring — even for Seniors. The school has changed surprisingly, even in the short time we’ve been part of it. The new building which seemed so vast four years ago is already straining at the seams from too many students. We’ve changed from a student body of about 3 50 to one of well over 500. Teachers have come and gone, and a full-time ath¬ letic coach has been appointed to look after the physical well-being of the pupils. An annual literary magazine is well on its way to success. We now have art, music, diversified occupations, and French, which have been introduced in the past four years. Student tickets, an orchestra, and a band have emerged in two years. This list could run on infin¬ itely longer. All this happened during our 86 span of higher learning. Who knows what the next four years will bring? A Ha ir-Raising Predicament Chase MacPherson, ’41 Kay Kyser! Oh boy! Tonight over at the Dixie with Ginny Simms, Harry Babbitt, and Ish Kabbible. So I finished my studying, obtained the necessary funds, walked up to Alex¬ ander’s Funeral Home, and started hitch¬ hiking. Twenty-five minutes passed and no ride. I had just about given up hope when a car drew up with four persons in it. The front door opened, so I got in. Everything seemed to be in ship-shape until we got out on the open road and began to pick up speed. I looked over at the driver. (We shall call him Sidney.) His eyes were glassy and he looked as if he were about ready to faint. Undeni¬ ably, he was saturated with intoxicants. In other words, he was plastered. The thought of all the destruction caused by drunken drivers scared the first three and one-half years out of the final ten that were scared off my life. Out about Mason’s filling station we were doing eighty-five miles per hour. Suddenly a giant truck loomed into view. Sidney waited till he got about two feet away from this truck before applying the brakes. On top of that he passed the truck on a hill. That scared the second three and one-half years off my life. When we came to the long hill leading down into Fishersville, the speedometer jumped to ninety-five miles per hour. Sidney passed one car after the other, and the last car he passed was moving at a very rapid clip. My picker-upper got by him all right, but my drunken friend stayed on the left-hand side of the road with another car coming head-on. The driver in the other car blew his horn, but Sidney kept right on driving on the left- hand side. He finally jerked over onto the right-hand side of the road. Boy, I know that if we had had another coat of paint on our car, we would have hit the other car. Then a super-colossal idea came to me. There were lights on in the Fisherville High School gym, and so I asked in a meek voice if I could get out here at the high school because of the basketball game in the gym. I got out, breathed a sigh of relief, walked into that small fill¬ ing station across from the high school, bought a drink, smoked a cigarette, and walked out and started hitch-hiking again. Ah Hates Love James Roadcap, ’43 Ah’m like Lil’ Abner—it’s sho’ true, For we’s agin the method of pitchin’ woo. A smickin’ and’ a smackin’ an’ a huggin’ too, Ah hates love; cuss it, ah do. Pitchin’ woo just ain’t the thing to do— Ah wants to stay single in one piece, not married—in two. Ah hates love; it’s agin my grain. Guys that get that way ain’t got no brain. Ah feels sorry for them poor dumb fel¬ lows; They’s helpless as a match before the bellows. So in conclusion ah sho’ must say: Ah’ll be on my guard to keep Cupid away. My Puppy Ruby Ann Carter, ’44 I have a little puppy, And he is solid white, But when he gets in the coal bucket He certainly is a sight. I wash him and I scrub him Just my very best but— He gets back in the coal bucket And becomes another mess. 87 y ester -Thoughts Owen Coyner, ’42 With the hum of wet tires on the long white strip of concrete that was highway number one, the huge chartered bus moved through the night. The clicking of windshield wipers and the steady drum of rain on the roof served as a lullaby for the triumphant, sleeping team and their coach. Through the open window next to the driver poure d in cool, refreshing air, along with the sound of croaking frogs as this dimly-lit island floated through the sea of the rain-soaked spring night by some small pond. Now and then the cabin rocked as the monstrous bus rode the turns of the road. Occasionally a snore arose from one of the occupants as the miles rolled by. The driver, after glancing at the clock, moved to a more comfortable position and swerved to miss an on-coming truck. His mind was on the days when he was in high school. Back to the days as a fresh¬ man. There were the teachers. Mr. Smith who scared the living daylights out of him. Mr. Smith was gruff but couldn’t be tough. Social minded his sophomore year. Started driving that year. Yes. Those were the most care-free days known. Next came the junior year. Mrs. Doakes taught geometry. With her help he got down to work. Met his future wife then. She moved to the home town from another place. And in the senior year the fun be¬ gan. All the dances he attended! Got a job that year working at a filling station. Then came graduation. Staying out all night, thought he would be glad to get out of high school but wanted to be back now. After graduation he had to go to work. Those years were hard. Those kids sleeping in the bus were wishing they could be out of high school. That driver knew. All kids were alike. They wanted to be out where they could see what made the world tick. He got a certain sense of well-being when he was out with a team, living over their moments of victory and defeat through which every team goes. Their very walk, so jaunty, so self-confident, brought back school-day memories. Too Young to Drive Elizabeth Booker, ’43 Too young to drive” Fits me and some others. But we don’t think so: It’s only our mothers. Now leave the car alone”, says Mother. You’ve made one dent; isn’t that enough?” Immediately I say, O. K., I won’t” But disobedience is just my stuff. I turn the key and press the clutch. I guess I’ll really get in dutch, But just the same, I shift to low, And now I’ll surely let ’er go! When all of a sudden I hear a great yell, And my dad’s about Ready to give me— 88 Who Is This Man? Buddy Mason, ’42 Our story concerns a man who was very strange. Some called him a fanatic; others called him a genius. He had the support of a nation of people, but the bitter hatred of many other nations that he conquered. This man sprang from very humble stock, living in an entirely different na¬ tion than one naturally associates him with. At an early age he formed his ideas and traits that were to distinguish him from others. The only type of person that he had any use for was a soldier. Later, when he himself was a soldier, he showed almost fanatic bravery while fighting. Because of his political beliefs and his friendship with a great man who was overthrown, this man was thrown in prison. Later, however, he was vindi¬ cated. Because he had the active support of his army and also because the existing order was unpopular with the people, he overthrew this order and became the head of this, his adopted country. Immediately this little man, whom some portrayed with a shock of hair fall¬ ing over his forehead, proved a tyrant. Drawing about him a small group of his most trusted generals, he ruled with an iron hand. All those who opposed him, even those who voiced unfavorable comments about the government, were punished. Soon by actual use of arms and by terrorizing diplomacy, he had all Europe at his feet. He was allied with Russia, although it was more or less of an alliance of mutual suspicion. His one great nemesis, however, was England and the English fleet, neither of which he was able to subdue. He assembled great armies at French channel ports and talked much of invasion and secret weapons. But this man was finally defeated by the English. His name was Napoleon. There is a saying: History repeats itself.” Only time will tell. The tumble-down house squatted be- red, each curl in a separate spot, and a hind two trees. Betty Arnold dot of rouge round on each cheek. She looked like a china doll; lips clear Margaret Davis 89 Our Magazine Contributors Charles Andrews’ favorite subject is social studies. Charles belongs to the Dramatic Club. His hobby is playing baseball, and his special inter¬ ests are dancing and baseball. He is a student in Miss Shular’s room. Betty Arnold is a sophomore who lists her hobbies as collecting souvenirs and drawing. Her favorite subject is Latin and her favorite sport is swimming. Wyman Atkins came to Waynesboro from Schoolfield, Virginia. He enjoys writing poetry very much. When he is sitting talking he writes it. He is also very much interested in music. John Barksdale is a very serious student when it comes to studying, especially in Latin, and is quite a bookworm when it comes to reading. He was elected associate literary editor for the soph¬ omore class and is a member of the Student Council. Bennie Beagle is interested in all sports. Math is also of interest to him. Anne Blackwell is very active in all her classes. A good sport and easy to get along with. Gertrude Bloss, Pennsylvania’s donation to Waynesboro this year, belongs to the Latin Club, and being one grand Drum Majorette, is now training students who wish to learn the art of wielding a baton. Her favorite summer sport is swimming. Elizabeth Booker goes in for tennis, swim¬ ming, and music. Elizabeth better known as moo” is a friend of everyone. She is very active as a member of the Torch-Y. Robert Campbell is considered a rather quiet and timid student by his class members. His favorite subject is biology and he spends much of his time modeling airplanes as a hobby. Granville Carlisle is a student in Miss Shular’s room. His favorite subject is Math. His hobby is collecting antiques. Granville is also interested in dramatics and baseball. Mildred Carpenter seems to have run into the well-known spring fever.” A Junior, she contributed a poem to last year’s Scribblings also. Though a poet, she is not the dreamy type at all, but loves dancing and is the Junior’s contribution to cheer-leading. She belongs to the costuming group of the Dramatic Club. Ruby Ann Carter is the secretary of the Freshman Dramatic Club. Ruby Ann’s favorite subject is Math, and her hobby is collecting music. Her chief interest is basketball. She was elected captain of the basketball team from Mr. Cald¬ well’s home room. Ruby Ann also likes baseball. Russell Cook is one of these Chemistry sharks you hear about, but never get to be. He was selected as one of the best-behaved in the Junior Class. Marilyn Dameron is an attractive sophomore who during basketball season showed her ability as manager of the Junior Varsity team. Her favorite subject is Physical Education. Merl DeMoll is a freshman in Miss Suther¬ land’s room. Merl’s favorite subject is Physical Education, and she is also interested in baseball. Jack Screwball” Ellis is noted for his artistic ability and for nutty drawings. His favorite sport is baseball and he is fairly good at it. Joyce Fitzgerald, besides skipping around, can also settle down and write a poem. She is better known as the Oomph Girl.” Lucy Lou Floyd has contributed much to Scribblings. She takes part in extra-curricula activities. She is a member of the Junior News - Virginian Staff, Dramatic Club, Publication Com¬ mittee, and W” Club. She is also interested in sports and plays tennis. She likes to write, and she won first place in V. F. W. contest. Frances Foster seems to have the ditty on” Latina Lingua (Latin to you), which is her favorite subject. She has been chosen most stu¬ dious in the Junior Class. Dramatic Club activ¬ ities greatly interest her. Claire Goodson is a freshman in Mr. Cald¬ well’s home room. She is a representative on the Student Council. Claire’s hobby is stamp collect¬ ing and her chief interests are playing tennis and reading. Elsie Goodson is very enthusiastic about writ¬ ing although she writes very little. She also enjoys reading very much Don Hildebrand’s hobby is bowling, and his special interest is basketball. He is interested in dramatics, and Don’s favorite subject is Math. Maynard Hilderbrand is very witty, always popping jokes. He is very much interested in work in the theater. From this article you can gather that he likes and enjoys his work. Woodie” Kerby has already won much acclaim for her writings. She is a cooperative student and is doing active work on the Student Council and script committee for the school movie. ' Shirley Kiger is interested in dramatics and baseball. Physical Education is his favorite sub¬ ject. Teresa Tready” Knapp is careless, carefree but careful. It doesn’t make sense but neither does she. Her favorite subject is math. Rita Lawless is a freshman in Mr. Caldwell’s room. She is a member of the Dramatic Club. Her hobby is collecting miniature objects, and 90 her favorite subject is literature. Rita’s interests are tennis, swimming, and skating. Bill Lester, a member of Mr. Chew’s home room is not a studious student, but once in a while he turns his energy to writing and you can see the results in his contributions to Scribblings. He is a member of the stage crew of the Dramatic Club under Mr. Bateman’s direction. Chase MacPherson may be called our come¬ dian because he certainly does put on some good acts sometimes. He is an active member of the Dramatic Club, and when he wishes, can express himself very vividly. Suzanne Marsh came to Waynesboro from New Hope. From her writing you can see that she is talented. She also draws and paints pictures. Buddy Mason, though this is his first year in Waynesboro High School, has already found his niche. He is an active member of the Dramatic Club and French Club. Noma McCauley can express herself very vividly and impressively. Although she is very quiet, she can write interesting articles. Louise McCrary’s special interests are danc- ign and horse-back riding. She is a student in Art Class and is interested in social studies. Frances Morris is in Mr. Chew’s home room and will graduate with the class of ’42 (she hopes). She has previously belonged to the Torch- Y and the Choral Club. Her choice in sports is basketball. It ' s Spring Mildred Carpenter, ’42 When the snow finally goes, And the wind briskly blows, When the rivers rise and flood, And trees and flowers bud, It’s Spring! When the sun floods the earth, And new plants have their birth, When birds return each day, And the world seems so gay, It’s Spring! When young hearts fill with love, And blue skies from above, When a new year seems to start, And new hope fires the heart, It’s Spring! Zelma Reid is a studious person whose favorite subject is math and as she says not English and history!” James Roadcap is a lively sophomore who insists that his Ah Hates Love” is purely face¬ tious He further stresses the point by listing his interests as aviation and girls. Bob Ross is defined in the dictionary as being not inclined to action or exertion.” That is until he hears swing. In other words, he is rather, shall we say, lazy? Meandering gently along he pro¬ duces Time Marches On.” Lurty Ross is a freshman in Miss Sutherland’s room. His favorite subject is history, and his chief interests are camping and fishing Reggie” Ruchman is the active president of the sophomore class. Gym is his favorite class and he says his hobby is reading, although his teachers class it as an obsession rather than a hobby. R. K. Saunders belongs to the Dramatic Club, and is interested in remodeling airplanes. Physical Education is also of much interest to him. Richard Smith’s hobby is modeling airplanes. Dramatics and football are also of interest to him. Woodrow Stone was manager of the basket¬ ball team and he is much interested in sports, especially baseball. From his writing, you can see he is a descriptive writer. Tom Vicar’s favorite subject is Physical Edu¬ cation, and swimming is his chief interest. Tom is a student in Miss Sutherland’s room. Night Francis Foster, ’42 Night—some queer ethereal quality is in the night tonight—something unex¬ plainable—something which exists only in mind—something heartbreaking and yet something soothing, lulling tired minds to the peace of the quiet darkness of its depths. The moon is so close that it looks as though one could touch it and draw it closer still. The stars beckon with tiny, shooting fingers of light. An owl sil¬ houetted against the moon hoots a melan¬ choly note—then another and flies away. The lake is a soft, dark blue color and makes little rippling noises as it shimmers and caresses the grassy bank, acting as a background for the night and all therein. Crickets call their mates—a sleepy bird chirps, and falls into the peace of slumber —and night. 91 Senior Directory Andes, Frances Kimler Literary Society, 38; Choral Club, 38, ’40; Home Economics Club, ’3 9; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’40. Atkins, Wyman Entered Waynesboro High School 1941. Baker, Verlin Maury Literary Society, ’38; Junior News Vir¬ ginian Staff, ’3 8, ’39; Student Council, ’40, 41; Boys’ State, ’40; President Junior Class, ’40; Pres¬ ident Senior Class, ’41; Social Committee, ’40, ’41, Chairman, ’41; Baseball, ’39, ’40; Cheerleader, ’40. Barger, Warren Student Council, ’38, ’41, President, ’41; Dra¬ matic Club, ’39, ’40, ’41; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’39, ’40; President Sophomore Class, ’39; Football, ’39, ’40, ’41; Tennis, ’40, ’41; Boys’ State, ’40; Institute of National Government, ’41; Kimler Literary Society, ’38; President Student Body, ’41. Bloss, Harry Entered Waynesboro High School, ’41. Brady, George Cary Literary Society, ’38. Brooks, Harry Cary Literary Society, ’38; School Band, ’41. Bush, Bill Kimler Literary Society, ’38; Home Economics Club; Bateman’s Bowling Team, ’41. Byrd, Carl Kimler-Cary Society, ’38. Campbell, Madeline Choral Club, ’38, ’39, ’40; Latin Club, ’38, ’39, Vice-president, ’3 8, Treasurer, 39; Cary Literary Society, ’38; Dramatic Club, ’39, ’40, ’41; Torch- Y, ’39. Carr, Caroline Kimler-Maury Literary Society, ’38; Latin Club, ’3 8; Kimler-Royston Latin Club, 39; Torch-Y, ’39; French Club, ’40, ’41; Hi-Y, ’40, ’41. Coleman, Carmen Kimler Literary Society, 38; Home Economics Club, ’39. Coles, Phyllis Maury Literary Society, ’38; Dramatic Club, ’38, ’39, ’40; Torch-Y, ’39; Home Economics Club, ’39; French Club, ’40, ’41, Program Chairman, ’40; Cheerleader, ’41; Social Committee, ’41; Secretary-Treasurer Sophomore class, ’39. Comer, Virginia Dramatic Club, ’3 8, ’39, ’40, ’41; Choral Club, ’38, ’39, ’40; Flome Economics Club, ’39; Man¬ ager Girls’ Basketball Team, ’41; “W” Club, 41; Cary Literary Club, ’38. Critzer, Buddy “W” Club; Baseball, ’3 8, ’39, ’40; Basketball, 40; Football, ’39-’40. Critzer, Lawrence Maury Literary Society, ’38; Basketball, ’40, 41; W” Club. Critzer, Louise Cary Literary Society, ’38; Latin Club, ’3 8, ’39, Daughtry, Mae Entered Waynesboro High School, 41. Daughtry, Mattie Entered Waynesboro High School, 41. Davis, Ann Entered Waynesboro High School, 41; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’41; French Club, ’41. Deimling, Carl Cary-Maury Literary Society, ’38; Choral Club, ’38; Operetta, ’38; Secretary-Treasurer Junior Class, ’39; Dramatic Club, ’40, ’41, President, ’41. DeMoll, Marvis Entered Waynesboro High School, ’39; Dramatic Club, ’39, ’40, 41, Vice-president, ’41; Choral Club, ’39; Torch-Y, 39; French Club, ’40, ’41; Cheerleader, ’40; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’41. Driver, Mac Kimler Literary Society, ’3 8; Dramatic Club, ’3 8, ’39, ’40; French Club, ’40; Fentress’ Bowling Team, ’41; Intramural Council, ’41. Dudley, Evaline Maury Literary Society, ’38, President, ’38; Torch-Y Club, ’38. ’39, President, ’39; Hi-Y Club, ’40 41, President, ’41; Choral Club, ’38, ’40, ’41, Vice-president, 40, 41; Latin Club, ’38, ’39, Secretary, ’38, Vice-president, 39; French Club, 40, ’41, Vice-president, 40, Secretary, ’41; Secretary Student Body, ’41; Junior News Vir¬ ginian Staff, ’39, ’40; Dramatic Club, ’39, ’41; Student Council, ’39, ’41, Secretary, ’41; Annual Staff, ’40. Dugger, James Cary Literary Society, ’38; Hi-Y Club, ’39, ’40, Choral Club, 39. Dugger, Maxine Maury Literary Society, ’38; Torch-Y, ’38, ’39, Vice-president, ’41; Dramatic Club, ’38, ’39, 41; Choral Club, ’38, ’39, ’40; Hi-Y, ’40, ’41, Vice- president, ’41; French Club, ’40, 41, President, ’41; Latin Club, ’3 8, ’39; Sergeant-at-Arms, ’40. Fauber, William Kimler Literary Society, ’38; Dramatic Club, ’40, ’41; Football, ’40, ’41; Baseball, ’40, ’41; French Club, ’40, ’41; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’41; Fentress’s Bowling Team, ’41. Feaganes, Juanita Cary Literary Society, ’38; Choral Club, ’38, ’39, ’40; Dramatic Club, 38, ’39. 92 Fisher, Frances Kimler-Maury Literary Society, ’38; Home Eco¬ nomics Club, ’39; Basketball, ’39, ’40, 41; W” Club, ’40, ’41. Floyd, Lucy Lou Kimler-Maury Literary Society, ’38; Dramatic Club, ’38, ’39, ’40, ’41, Secretary, ’41; Choral Club, ’38, ’39, Operetta, ’38; W” Club, ’40, 41; Latin Club, 38, ’39; French Club, 40, ’41, Program Chairman, ’40, Sergeant-at-arms, 41; Torch-Y, ’38, ’39, Corresponding Secretary, 39; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’39, ’40, ’41, Editor, 40; Junior Editor Scribblings”, ’40; Orientation Committee, ’40; Dramatic Festival, ’40, ’41; Publication Committee, 41; Basketball, ’3 8, ’39, ’40; Chairman Auditorium Committee, ’41; Tennis, ’40, ’41; Annual Staff, ’41. Forrestel, Janet Maury Literary Society, ’39; Dramatic Club, ’3 8, ’39, ’40; Home Economics Club, ’39; Torch-Y, ’39; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’39, ’41; Hi-Y, ’41. Forrestel, Joan Maury Literary Society, ’3 8; Dramatic Club, ’38, ’39, ’40, 41; Torch-Y, ’39; Junior News Vir¬ ginian Staff, ’39, ’40; French Club, ’40; ’41. Frank, Alvin Cary Literary Society, ’38, Secretary-Treasurer; Vice-president Freshman Class t ’38; Student Council, 39, ’41. Franklin, Alice Cary Literary Society, ’38; Home Economics Club, ’39, Freed, Betty Ann Maury Literary Society, ’38; Dramatic Club, ’38, ’39, ’41; Choral Club, ’38; Torch-Y, ’39; French Club, ’40, 41; Annual Staff, ’41. Goodson, Elsie Cary Literary Society, ’38; Torch-Y, ’39; Junior News Virginian Staff, 39; French Club, ’40, ’41; Hi-Y, ’41. Harmon, Carolyn Dramatic Club, 39, ’40, ’41; Junior News Vir¬ ginian Staff, ’39, ’40; Choral Club, ’39; Script Committee, ’41. Harmon, Jo Ann Kimler-Maury Literary Society, ’38; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’39, ’40, ’41; French Club, 40, ’41; Hi-Y, ’41. Harris, Suzy Maury Literary Society, ’38. Henkel, Sutton President Freshman Class, ’3 8; Vice-President Sophomore Class, ’39; Vice-President W” Club, ’40, ’41, President, Senior Class, ’40, ’41; Basket¬ ball, ’41. Hildrbrand, Maynard Cary Literary Society, ’37; Boys Hi-Y, ’37,’38, 39, ’40; Speaking and Debating Club, ’37. Hiserman, Kenneth Kimler-Maury Literary Society, ’38. Hutchins, Betty Maury Literary Society, ’38; Latin Club, ’83, ’39; Dramatic, ’39, 40. Johnson, Marguerite Cary Literary Society, ’38; Dramatic Club, ’38, ’39, ’40, 41; Choral Club, ’38, ’39, ’40; French Club, ’41; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’41. Kite, Charlotte Kimler-Maury Literary Society, ’38; Choral Club, ’39, ’40; Home Economics Club, ’39. Knapp, Robert Kimler-Maury Literary Society, ’38; Dramatic Club, ’38, ’39, ’40, ’41; Dramatic Festival, ’40, ’41; French Club, ’40, ’41; Student Hall Com¬ mittee Chairman, ’41; Maintenance Club, ’40, President, ’40; Orientation Committee, ’40. Lamb, David Cary Literary Society, ’38; Student Council, ’40, ’41. Lawhorn, Phyllis Kimler Literary Society, ’38; Home Economics Club, ’39. Lawman, Zane Entered Waynesboro High School, ’41; Basketball, ’41; Latin Club, ’41; Dramatic Club, ’41; Hi-Y Club, ’41; W” Club, ’41. Lon as, Walter Entered Waynesboro High School, ’41; Choral Club, ’41, Secretary; Dramatic Club, ’41; W” Club, ’41; Football, ’41. Lowry, Bernard Kimler Literary Society, ’38; Junior News Vir¬ ginian Staff, ’41; W” Club, ’40, ’41, President, ’40; President Intramural Council, ’41; Baseball, 38, ’39, ’40, ’41. Marion Hazel Kimler Literary Society, ’38; Choral Club, ’38, ’39,’40; Dramatic Club, ’39. Marsh, Suzanne Entered Waynesboro High School, ’41. MacPherson, Chase Kimler Literary Society, ’38; Junior News Vir¬ ginian Staff, ’38, ’39; Dramatic Club; Pocketsize Minstrel, ’41, Tub Trouble”, ’41; Bateman’s Bowling Team, ’41; Latin Club, ’3 8, ’39, ’40; French Club, ’40, ’41. Mayo, William Entered Waynesboro High School, ’41. McCartney, Janet Kimler Literary Society, ’38; “W” Club, ’37, ’40, ’41; Dramatic Club, ’37, ’40; Choral Club, ’37; ’39, ’40; Basketball, ’37, ’3 8, ’39, ’40, ’41. McCauley, Noma Cary Literary Society, ’38. McNabb, Charles Kimler Literary Society, ’38; Secretary Treasurer of Freshman Class, ’3 8. 93 McWin, Jacquelyn Entered Waynesboro High, ’40 Choral Club, ’40; Dramatic Club, ’40, ’41; Drum Majorette, ’41. Miller, Otto Kimler Literary Society, ’3 8. Miller, Paul Kimler Literary Society, ’38. Minter, Charles Ray Cary Literary Society, ’3 8; Football, ’38; ’39; School Orchestra, ’41; School Band, ’41. Moore, Chester Entered Waynesboro High School, ’41. Morris, Charles Maury Literary Society, ’38; Basketball, ’41; Home Economics Club, ’39, ’40. Moyer, Charles Dramatic Club, ’38, ’39; Baseball, ’38, ’39, ’40, ’41; Student Council, ’39; Football, ’39, ’40, ’41; W” Club, ’40, 41. Moyer, Jean Cary Literary Society, ’38; Torch-Y, ’38, ’39, Secretary, ’39; Home Economics Club, ’39; Hi- Y, ’40, ’41, Secretary, ’41; Latin Club, ’40, ’41, Secretary, ’40, President, ’41; Senior Editor of Annual, ’41. Muse, Margaret Entered Waynesboro High School, ’40. Niedenthol, Ruby Home Economics, ’39; Maury Literary Society, ’38. Owens, Annie Kimler Literary Society, ’38; Home Economics ’39; Hi-Y Club, ’41 . Owens, Robert Kimler Literary Society, ’38; Home Economics Club; W” Club; Basketball. Palmer, Rosana Entered Waynesboro High School, 1941. Pitzer, Fielder Cary Literary Society, ’3 8; Football, ’40, ’41; Basketball, ’39; French Club, ’40. Quillen, Max Cary Literary Society, ’3 8; Latin Club, ’3 8, ’39; Football, ’40, ’41. Ross, Ruby Kimler-Cary Literary Society, ’38; Home Eco¬ nomics Club, ’39. Sanders, Kenneth Kimler Literary Society, ’3 8. Sanders, Thomas Maury Literary Society, ’3 8; Football, 3 8, ’39; Boxing, ’38. Sayre, Bonnie Choral Club, ’38, ’39; Latin Club, ’38, ’39; Dramatic Club, ’3 8, ’39; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’40; Hi-Y Club, ’41. Sipe, Jean Maury Literary Society, ’38; Choral Club, ’38, ’39, ’40, Operetta, ’38; Dramatic Club, ’38, ’39, ’40, ’41; Kimler-Royston Latin Club, ’3 8, ’39; French Club, ’40, ’41; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’38, ’39, ’40. Spradlin, Marjorie Kimler-Maury Literary Society, ’38; Home Eco¬ nomics Club, ’39. Stone, Woodrow Maury Literary Society, ’38; Secretary-Treasurer Senior Class, ’41; Secretary-Treasurer W” Club, ’41; Manager Baseball Team, ’40, ’41; Manager Football Team, ’41; Manager Basketball Team, ’41; Secretary-Treasurer Home Economics Club, ’40. Stout, Ellen Entered Waynesboro High School, 1941; Hi-Y, ’41; Basketball, ’41; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’41; Senior Editor Literary Magazine, ’41; Latin Club, ’41; W” Club, ’41. Terrell, Clara Kimler Literary Society, ’38; Torch-Y, ’39; Dramatic Club, ’40, ’41; Hi-Y, ’40, ’41; Latin Club, ’38, ’39. Tanner, Margaret Cary Literary Society, ’38; Choral Club, 38; Junior News Virginian Staff, ’3 8; Hi-Y, ’41; French Club, ’40, ’41. Thorneau, George Basketball, ’41; Baseball, ’40; Kimler Literary Society, ’38. Wagner, Zora Maury Literary Society, ’3 8; Torch-Y, ’3 8, ’39; Hi-Y, ’40, ’41, Treasurer, ’41; Student Council ’39, ’40. Yancey, Kathleen Cary Literary Society, ’3 8; Dramatic Club, ’38, ’39, ’40; Choral Club, ’38, ’39,’40; Home Eco¬ nomics Club, ’39. April Charles Andrews, ’41 April this year, not otherwise Than April of a year ago, Is full of whispers, full of sighs, Of dazzling mud, and dingy snow. Beautiful things that pleased you so Are here again. Impressions The little old woman plodded along in the red clay, looking forever at her feet, unmindful of any other existing life. 9 4 CLOTHING and FURNISHINGS FOR MEN THE MAN ' S SHOP • Home of NO-MEND HOSIERY FOR LADIES • 510 Main Street Phone 24 AUGUSTA FURNITURE COMPANY We Specialize in Helping Young Folks to Furnish Their Homes Attractively and Economically Waynesboro - - Virginia HAMILTON-COOK HARDWARE CO. “Your Sports Center” PHONE 10 4 THE WAYNE AND CAVALIER THEATRES The WAYNE and CAVALIER are two of the finest theatres in the Shenandoah Valley. Both buildings are of modem, fireproof construc¬ tion and have been maintained at a high standard ever since their erection: the WAYNE in 1926 and the CAVALIER in 1929. Auditoriums in both theatre buildings are spacious and every con¬ venience has been installed for the comfort of patrons. Seats, ventila¬ tion, screen, picture projectors and sound equipment are always main¬ tained at a standard that provides for the utmost enjoyment of the show. Every picture produced each year may be seen in Waynesboro, in surroundings that are clean, comfortable and wholesome, and at prices that are in keeping with the type of entertainment offered. “Shenandoah Valley 1 s Finest Theatres ” GROSSMAN’S Waynesboro ' s Show Place of Favored Fashions for Women and Misses DRIVERS SALES AND SERVICE DODGE AND PLYMOUTH CARS DODGE TRUCKS Complete Esso Service Phone 150 Main Street Compliments of WAYNESBORO FLORIST 212 DuPont Blvd. 530 Main St. Phone 160 GIFTS FOR ALL OCCASIONS Durand Candies Bust craft Cards WAYNESBORO NEWS AGENCY The Card and Gift Shop Spode China Stieff Silver ARNOLD’S JEWELRY STORE 530 W. Main Street Phone 325-J Elgin—Bulova Watches WAYNE WELDING COMPANY Auto Body Work and Refinishing Auto Glass Cut and Installed Siberling Tires COMPLETE RADIATOR SERVICE 219 Arch Avenue Phone 4 Phone 80 AUGUSTA CLEANERS AND TAILORS • Beautiful Cleaning For People Who Care R. R. SPECK GROCERY AND MEAT MARKET Phone 389 Charlotte Ave. WAYNESBORO DRUG STORE W. E. Drake, Manager Waynesboro Virginia DRUGS SODAS FISHBURNE SON, Ltd. The PHARMACISTS RexaU Waynesboro, Virginia Store GIFTS JEWELRY THE CITIZENS WAYNESBORO BANK TRUST CO. Main Office, Waynesboro, Va. Branch Office, Park Station “There is Not a Substitute for a Savings Account” Resources Over 1,800,000 Dollars Member Federal Reserve System Member F. D. I. C. WHITE BROTHERS THE SHOPPING CENTER for GOOD CLOTHES Waynesboro HANEYS PHARMACY “Dependable Service” Virginia EARLY DAWN CO-OP DAIRY, Imc. For HEALTH ' S SAKE Drink More Milk • PHONE 3 9 2 Waynesboro Virginia COMPLIMENTS Fairfax Hall Junior College Waynesboro Virginia Compliments LOUISE BEAUTY SALON Phone 520 E. H. BARR COMPANY 5c—$1.00 MERCHANDISE PAUL FREED, Inc. FORD MERCURY • Sales and Service • Phone . 5 5 0 THE Hering Studio FINE PHOTOGRAPHS Portrait, Commercial and College Annual Photography PHOTO FINISHING WE DO ENLARGING Films Picture Frames Kodaks Main Street - - Waynesboro, Va. BROOKS’ CLEANERS AND DYERS 314 Eleventh Street Phone 320 Waynesboro, Virginia WAYNE BEAUTY SALON Expert Beauticians All Work Guaranteed L. R. B. Building Phone 385 Wayne Ave. E. W. BARGER COMPANY INSURANCE AGENCY • LIFE FIRE ACCIDENT AUTOMOBILE and and HEALTH CASUALTY • “Dependable Insurance” Phone 135 Waynesboro, Va. Compliments of ROSE’S 5-10-25c STORE WAYNESBORO VIRGINIA Compliments of PIEDMONT STORE WHEN WEARING GEORGIAN A FROCKS Tour Wardrobe is Exclusive Every Member of The Family Enjoys THE NEWS VIRGINIAN Waynesboro’s Only Newspaper Member Associated Press Established 1892 Quality House Furnishings For Over a Third of a Century J. L. BARKSDALE FURNITURE CORP. A . Good . Place . To . Eat WAYNESBORO CAFE STOVER’S ELECTRIC SHOP Virginia Gas Distribution Corporation ELECTRICAL CONTRACTOR REPAIR WORK Heat with Gas—a Natural Fuel FIXTURES AND APPLIANCES Cook with Gas—a Faster Fuel Refrigerate with Gas—an Phone 118 Economical Fuel Waynesboro, Virginia Water with Gas—a Master Fuel Compliments Compliments of of BECK ' S VALLEY BAKERIES s o Bakers of Betty Lewis Bread u T Compliments H E of CLOUTIER ' S Expert Jewelers R N If You Don ' t Know Diamonds Know Cloutier R E S T THE FIRST NATIONAL BANK (The Bank That Service Built) A We Handle F.H.A. Loans and Will U Help You Oivn Your Home p WE ALSO HAVE XI A N Complete Commercial, Savings, Safe Deposit and Trust Departments T Member F. D. I. C. Waynesboro Virginia HYMAN’S Wearing Apparel for the Entire Family SINCERE WISHES FOR THE CONTINUED SUCCESS OF THE CLASS OF ’41 • ACETATE DIVISION E. I. DUPONT DE NEMOURS COMPANY INCORPORATED WAYNESBORO VIRGINIA G. W. Speck’s Grocery and Sanitary Meat Market ‘ ‘ Where Price Quality and Service Meet ’ ’ Phone 356 DAYLIGHT LAUNDRY AND DRY CLEANERS Home is no place to do the family washing Waynesboro Staunton Phone 151 Phone 122 Compliments of CONNER’S DRUG STORE 129 Wayne Avenue Phone 53 LAMBERT MANUFACTURING COMPANY All Kinds of Building Material Waynesboro, Virginia Phone 15 SHENANDOAH HAY AND GRAIN COMPANY Dealers in Compliments of Genuine Raven Red Ash, Kaymoor and Pocahontas Coal MIZE SUPPLY COMPANY Phone 166 STAUNTON SPORT SHOP The Only WM. F. LANDES AUTO COMPANY Exclusive SALES AND SERVICE Valley Sport Store De Soto Plymouth Oldsmobile Staunton - - Virginia Six and Eight MICK - OR - MACK Cash Talks WAYNESBORO PAINT GROCERIES—MEATS STORE FRUITS—VEGETABLES DU PONT Paints and Varnishes WINGFIELD MOTOR CO. Chrysler - Fluid Drive Waynesboro, Va. Wallpaper, Glass Venetian Blinds 134 Wayne Avenue Phone 282 Compliments You’ll Say — of e First Because It’s Finest!” SOUTHERN INDUSTRIAL LOAN BRAND - CHEVROLET COMPANY INCORPORATED EYE IT TRY IT BUY IT Compliments Phone 261 of Waynesboro, Virginia WEST END MARKET 1436 W. Main Street .-V3-- . ... ■ • « -• -