Winslow High School - Meteor Yearbook (Winslow, AZ)

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19 13 WOLSNIWANOZIRA r (IKORCJK SAMPSON. JR., Class President. C'a t Class Play, Varsity Basketball, Varsity Baseball. Manager Baseball. ’13, Tennis Club. lie i- capable of great things, gentle thing-, even of magnanimous things.” Junior Yesterdays and Todays. “Oh, Strengthen Me, Enlighten Me; I Faint in This Obscurity, Thou Deny the Dawn of Memory.” Seemingly our class had its origin in the remote past: in vain do we strive to recall any notable or notorious deed charged to our account. Evidently we developed and progressed from infancy to childhood; passed through kindergarten, primary school and grammar school in the usual order, and received tin usual number of credits and demerits for attendance, lessons and deportment. However, our yesterdays that are worth recording began with our promotion to the so-called Freshmen class (which term, hv the way, is a misnomer, although it comes to us endorsed by usage from a dignified past, and there are certain authorities allow its use) for all Freshmen invariably feel jaded after they have all struggled through the intricacies of the eighth grade, and all feel that it is a crowning humiliation to be called “Freshmen.” We were spared the pain by a merciful Providence of entering the presence of cold superior knowledge as embodied in tin Junior and Senior ‘•lasses of any institution, as at that time there was no High School building in Winslow and all knowledge was imparted within the walls ot the grammar school. There was little to distinguish classes within the study rooms or upon the playgrounds and we rubbed elbows with all. I bus you can see that ours was not the common lot of High School beginners. There were 28 of us at the beginning of the term, but for various causes only ten went as Sophomores to the Modern High School that stands in the northeastern part of Winslow; enough of us, however, to form a strong congenial class, and our todays are full of interest as we ponder “the whence, the why and the whither” of daily life. Our class dances and parties are “classy” if not classical. We take an active part in all athletics and amateur plays for school lf

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WOLSNIWANOZIRA 19 13 MARION TILTON. ('hiss Secretary and Treasurer, Tennis Club. Associate Editor Annual. “My endeavors have ever come short of my desires.” FRANCIS WOODS. Business Manager. Tennis Club, Annual, Cast Class Play. “A soldier fit to stand by Caesar.” RALPH WKHER. Class Editor, Varsity Basketball, Track, Tennis Club. “Mine honor is my life; Both grow in one. Take honor from me. My life is done.” 18

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WOLSNIWANOZIRA 19 13 benefits, in school hours we are models of propriety, veritable soions in recitation. We write innumerable compositions on various subjects. Ancient, Mediaeval and present day events are equally familiar to us. We have formed many opinions and are able to debate with lucid force. We are of different temperaments, have different viewpoints and rarely do any two of us agree, which lends zest to our arguments; but we stand shoulder to shoulder against everything non-1915. We are always “up and doing with a heart for any fate.' as we have passed the fickle and formative period in life known as “age of adolescence, and our characters are so well formed that to a student of human nature our peculiarities and characteristics are evident. If it were only possible to see into the future, we are sure that the Class of 1915 will be well equipped for the battle of life when we step out into the world as graduates of the Winslow High School, and we believe that we are destined for prominent places upon life’s field of action. (( ( 1 • » TT • »» A Junior s lsion. Seemingly no sooner was the history of class completed than a voice within me bade me predict of the tomorrows. I had immortal longings within me that I was unable to express. So I went to entreat the famous Oracle. Entering, I said, “Spread over me the visionary wing, now let me dream and sing. 1 soon found that I was drifting alone through the airy realms of space, without wings or helping hands, through a nebular mist of light, past the lone cold moon, up close to the singing stars, until the world looks as a faint star far, far below. I was alone and yet not alone, for 1 felt a strange guiding presence near me. drawing me ever onward and upward towards a great white planet too grandly beautiful in its scenic wonders for words of mine to describe. I became conscious of a wonderful invigorating sweetness in the air. A hand clasped mine and I awoke. Ah me! the form that welcomed me to the strange shores was not that of an angel, for he was minus wings. It was Bernard Shaw’s “Superman.” This unknown knight was divinely good to look upon and welcomed me to his habitation. You ask how I knew that he was the “Superman?” Well just because. As my foot touched the soil of this glorious star world I felt a wave of unearthly and noble desires sweep over me. To my humble mind it seemed as if this place was a station on the main line to heaven; so beautiful, serene and remote from even the idea of evil and wickedness. I walked beside my unknown conductor over a pathway paved with marble, t hrough fields covered with white blossoms resembling roses, up a gentle incline, on the crest of which rose a superb temple. It appeared to be constructed of marble and mother-of-pearl and much resembled the pictures of the Pantheon at Athens. As we passed up the broad terraced steps and into the temple I collected my scattered wits sufficiently to take a few mental pictures of this Temple of Perfection. The inner court was a marvelous garden of white flowers, with a central fountain, 20