Whitesville High School - Wycenian Yearbook (Whitesville, NY)

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W hen we were once again in the air, another helicopter passed us advertising a Miracle Circus in Atlanta, Georgia. I had heard rumors that Jean was there during the winter so we planned to take in the big attraction. After we had seen nearly all the circus we stopped to see the trapeze performance. It was an amazing sight. The acrobats were called “Tillie and Tyler”. Tyler held a rope be- tween his teeth while swinging one hundred and forty feet high. Suddenly his partner, Tillie, jumped from a higher platform and turned five times before reaching the rope. After the performance was over, the couple came down to take a bow. This was the biggest surprise of my trip. The couple was revealed to me as Lois Harris and her husband, a red-head. In our school days, I had told Lois to steer away from red-heads because they were dangerous. Evidently she had found him to be a safe investment, because now, it is a life- time proposition. I soon gave up looking for Jean in Atlanta and we moved farther south. I knew exactly where we could locate Irene Kear, and that was our next stop—Thomasville, Georgia. Irene is a first class secretary in a big banking concern. She is the envy of all her classmates. I found her at her eight-room apartment on Lake Street. We talked about the folks back home, and I told her of all our classmates I had found. She directed me to Dorothy Teater, who was in Mobile, Alabama. We left Irene and followed the route to Mobile. Dorothy was surprised to see me and thrilled to meet my husband. She has many admirers, and still fears that she will be an old maid. Her business is an odd one. She has a home for men wounded in service. 21

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a resident of the United States. I remembered that Aroline was a Cadet Nurse, but I was unaware that she had ever gone over-seas. Yes, Aroline went to England in 1947, and an English soldier stepped into her life. I understand she lives in Liverpool. We left Betty and started south to find Jean Crittenden. In New York City, I was determined to see the new stage hit—“A Million Girls and Me,” starring some new discovery in movies. At the door I met Lillian Flamini. She informed me that she was director of the show and is now a success in that field. I had to turn down her invitation to dine that evening, but she escorted us to our seats. In the show I heard a beautiful, mellow voice similar to that of Frank Sinatra of 1944, but yet it had that Gene Autry touch. The possessor of such a magnetic voice was a tall, dark and muscular man who» looked familiar. It looked like—but no, it couldn’t be—why, yes, it is none other than Richard Blow. To my surprise, I learned that Rich is a famous movie and radio star. His public name is Elmer Warble. The show had left me speechless, but we left Lillian and pro- ceeded to find Jean. In Morgantown, West Virginia, we stopped for gasoline. A billboard near the road immediately attracted my at- tention. It was a very clever advertisement of Ry-Crisp, that magic reducing compound. The picture was of a beautiful girl with long slender legs and a Rita Hayworth figure. I walked up to the picture and, in small print, I found the victim to be Mary Lewis. I’ve always had a feeling that Mary would make a perfect glamor girl . . . per- haps her wavy hair and brown eyes convinced me. 20

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In her lobby I noticed a display of her collection of medals of honor and buttons from different uniforms. Her life seemed to be far from a dull one. She had all sorts of equipment and enjoyment. I asked Dorothy if she could tell me anything about Jean Crittendem. She had received a letter from her a month ago, postmarked Miami Beach. She had written it just before starting on another ’round- the-world trip on an air liner. Yes, Jean had changed her course from the commercial field to that of an air liner hostess. I picture her as the ideal person for such a position. I had wanted to see Jean per- sonally, but finding it impossible we started home. I felt as if I had forgotten one classmate who deserved to be re- membered. Sure enough, it was Earl Ainsworth. I had seen him the year after we graduated, and he was enrolled in the paratroop division of the Army. By telephoning to Windy-top Farm on South Hill, I acquired the information I wanted. Earl’s address is Parkside View in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I was astonished to find him single after he had developed that old “wolf technique” in 1944. Must be his technique slipped. I wanted to know about all his old flames, but I let the personal questions pass by. He had a good start in the taxi business, but longed for a vacation back on the farm. We reached our little home about mid-night that night, and I was very satisfied with the reunions I had with all my classmates. My only regret was in failing to see Jean. Perhaps we will still meet and. when we do, we will have a “gab fest” until we are well through our days at Whitesville Central once more. I must say good-by now and hope in our cottage on the hill. that you will pay me a visit R. F. 22