Winston Salem State University - Ram Yearbook (Winston Salem, NC)

 - Class of 1949

Page 28 of 60

 

Winston Salem State University - Ram Yearbook (Winston Salem, NC) online collection, 1949 Edition, Page 28 of 60
Page 28 of 60



Winston Salem State University - Ram Yearbook (Winston Salem, NC) online collection, 1949 Edition, Page 27
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Winston Salem State University - Ram Yearbook (Winston Salem, NC) online collection, 1949 Edition, Page 29
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Page 28 text:

THE SENIOR CLASS PROPIIECY Z The sun was shining brightly on a fair May morning. The birds were twitter- ing gaily. All the world seemed to be lilled with joy and expectation. XVhat was the matter? I rose, and I sat before my dressing table, I wondered what was wrong with me. XVhy was I up at tive-thirty when my rising hour was generally fifteen minutes before breakfast? I paused in my task of arranging my hair and thought. Why, this is Commeneement Day! On tl1is day we will take our first step into the world. XVQ- have eome to the parting of the ways. Friends of four years will part, many 11ever to meet again I As I gazed into my mirror I murmured to myself, XVhat does the future hold for us? IIow I wished I knew what the members of the Class of '49 would be ten years from now! Perhaps I went to sleep, I do not know, but as I mused, my mirror suddenly beeame translueent, a brilliant light blinded me. When my eyes had beeome acenstomed to the light, I noticed that a great highway lay before me, and upon the sign post I read Iiife's Highway, and the arrow pointed into infinity. I heard a voice at my side saying, IIave your wish, and I found myself on the lane. Two figures were approaching, As they came near I recognized William Davis and Rolland Lawrence. They both said that since they had spent so ma11y years at the XVinston-Salem Teachers College they decided to beeome members of the staff, Davis as Coaehing and Otifieiating teacher and Lawrence as teaeher of Orientation to the Freshman Class. They passed on. For a moment the light grew dim. NVhen its brilliance was restored, a school house was in sight. A prim little teacher, wearing horn-rimmed speetacles, behind the desk. IVith a look, she sileneed the group of children who were whispering among themselves. NVho was the teaeher? Iielia Fryar, of course. The light tiiekered again, This time I found myself in New York City. I was walking along Fifth Avenue, and looking np, I saw the sign 'tArtists and Models. I went inside. And there, whom did I see? None other than Sarah Drummond and Elaine Barnes, owners of the tirm. The lights dinnned and tlashed. A great steel building loomed in front of me. Over the door was the sign Utiiee of Ballard and Turner. I entered, and spying a door marked Direetors, I peeped in. Behind the desk sat Edward Ballard and -Iames Turner. Both were well-dressed and engaged in a conversa- tion over the need for a larger membership of the Young Men's Christian Association. They were fortunate in having a very competent manager who was able to earry on the business in the absence of the directors. I went into the manager 's office. There sat Ilaudy Sullivan. I stole a glance at something he was writing, thinking that it was an editorial. Perhaps it was, but it was addressed Dear Marie. The light flashed again and the Metropolitan Opera Ilouse appeared, Many little eleetrie lights were blazing forth the names of the favorites who had taken the world by storm. The great eontralto soloist, Portia Derr, had the title role in 'Alia Traviataf' lVith her appeared the great lyric soprano, Edna Phifer. Ifarther down Iiroadway I notieed a theatre, before the door of which a big erowd surged. This was the initial performanee of a play written by the well- known playwright, Kate -Ietfereys. The main eharaeter was an aetress who had won the fame of Lena Ilorne in playing dramatic roles. The name was one which I had heard before. It was Elaine Robinson, who before had starred with the 'I'. C, Guild Players in After All, It's Spring. 1

Page 27 text:

I'll VLANS SUNG t'l'une: The Whipping llost Song! 'llu our dear old Alma Mater- 'l'o our sehool we love so deari To our dear old teaehers wliom we love so well- NN here wt-'ve spent our four long: years NVith friends and elassmates too NVe are ready to depart from all these lllllljl'-i. Yes. we'll miss the good old spirit And the days we love so well: .Xnd we'll UUVUI' forget the lessons we have learned, XVe will always eherish 'l'. V. NVhile life and voiee shall last. Then we 'll pass and he l'0lllt'lllllPl't'tl with the rest. s: XVe're poor little souls who are going: away-Bye, hye, hye, We're little meek souls who have to stray-Bye, hy e, hye. We'll always rememlmer the good old days, llating to say adien this way- Telliug the stories from Old T. C., Bye, hye, hye. Pearl E. fl,tIIlz'Nt'tIlf'N, Juanita H. lmrzeh, Edna E. Phifer. Z CLASS PUEM We have eome to the end of a perfeet day While here at T. V. we did stay: Oh! how our hearts heat with raptured thrill To have elimhed to this portion on lift-'s steep hill. XVe think haek on that glorious year We eame here as freshmen, full of fearg Now that four years have eome and passed, XYe leave, but our hearts are really sad. Dear Alma Mater, aeeept our thanks lVe give to thee so hold and frank lieeanse we do know, and we will say That you have made for us a pleasant stay. To thee, dear sehool, we will ever he true, And praetiee the things you taught us to do As we go forth we 'll praise thy name, And shine for thee in love and fame, Une glad message we leave with you Now that we are about to say adieug There will always he a plaee in our hearts for thee, As in life we make our start. Kato J41fl'1'f'1



Page 29 text:

Ili-fore the enrtain rose, I looked alvont the theatre. Into one of the hoxes eame a tall, slender woman dressed in Iieautifnl elothes. She drew her coat about her as she sat down in haughty pride. lt was Huth Sims, Into the same hox eame a hlithe young' woman on her liuslvainI's arm. She was not far Ilttlllllll llllth Sillla in her lieautiful attire. This proved to he 1'atIn-rine Vharles, who had married Ilamlet 'tSmilev lYilkens. now proprietor ot' the 1'opoeal:ana Night Vlull, l'resently, a tall.. dignified woman. dressed in a rieh lvut sonilwre gown, glided in. The others rose at In-1' approaell, lliriam Graves had not lseen rohlied of her grave and dignity hy ten years. Another hox was oeeupied hy the guests of the former Daisy liell, who was now the will- ot' :1 prominent doetor. and was enter- taining a group of voung' deliuta1itrs. Soon there was loud applause, tliougli the plav had not lvefun. In a lnox on the other side of the theatre stood the ur:-at matinee idol, smiling' and howing in af-kmmwledgeinent of the ovation he had just re-eeived, It was Alvis Daniels- a seeond Larry Noble. The orehestra entered and eonnneneed to play an overture. There was some- thing ahout the leader whieh made me think I had seen him liefore. Vareful serutiny revealed that it was Silas Ilarris. onee a trombone player with the T. I , l'edagogues. Of eourse, George Glenn was a im'n1her of the orellestra. The seene ehanged and the sky-serapers of the hig' eity loomed ahove, Every- where people were hustlingg. Newshoys were ealling' Head Almout the Big Stock Exchange? It was IYall Street. A street ear drove up to the 4-urlv. From it stepped a woman vlad in neatly tailored elothes, NVith a lvrisk walk, she hurried into the huilding. After I had reeovered from astonislnnent, I called out I3ertl lint she had gone on. It was Alherta Turner-a XVall Street Fmaneier. I looked upon the direetory lianaing' in the lohhy of the great olfiee huilding, My eyes fell upon this notiee: Mamie G. Allen. Vertitied Aeeoulitant, Sixth Floor, VVhen the light grew hriglit again, I was on the East Side of New York. Before I had gone very far I passed a Salvation Army Station. There were -Iews. Italians. Greeks, Negroes and Ameriean NYhites all aliout, To this conglomerate --rowd a woman was speaking. As she forcefully set forth her views of right living, I revognizeml her as Alma Andrews. Ilere she was leading masses and was shaping the destinies of many of them. The seene shifted and I found myself on the eampus of the NVinston-Salem Teaellers College, IIow ehanged it was! I made my way lo the I'resident's otliee, and was ushered into his presenee, Somehow I had no idea who the president was, Iinagine my surprise when Sylvester Humphrey, I'h.D., greeted me. I visited many of the elassi-ooms. In one of the rooms, I saw Naney t nlln'etli teaehing' Medieval Ilistory to a group of disinterested students. In the alisenee of the Puhlie Speaking' Professor, Vivian -Iohnson was holding' those elasses. Her love for conversation and her aliility in talking' had in no way diminished. Ilean llvilliams, now retired. had yielded his plaee as Dean of Men and C'haplain to Gai-tield Vonnor, At the chapel hour I reeounizerl Mary Hairston, Nellie Rinehart. Doris Mason, Elizabeth I'lowden and Ilelen Banner among the faeulty who sat U11 the rostrum, I was surprised and delighted to meet an old elassmate of mine who had held the position as Dean of lVomen. It was Ruliy liindsay, She had felt the dignity of her office to the extent that she had let her hair grow out. The Girls' Baskethall Team had ehallengzed the women teachers to a game whieh it was my good fortune to see. Geraldine Dixon. Naomi -Iaekson, and Helen Ruth -Iohnson were on the Faeulty Team. Big' Naomi was still literally plat-ing the hall in the basket.

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