Winter Haven High School - Wha Hwa Hta See Yearbook (Winter Haven, FL)

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 m nwA ! m mta see 1 1 { Class History 1930-1931 t t Seniors: (at last) This is the top. And murmur We rule That It’s great.” A Our small domain We hear more frequently v, With swelling pride; Enthusiasm, But it is strange— Co-operation, A Someone has asked us, School spirit; s How does it feel And we are inspired To be a Senior?” To many things. i And we gaze Thus we work. 1 In blank dismay. Results appear For oddly, In quick succession: We have experienced Picnics, parties, plays. V No great transition The lasting embodiment From the common students Of it all— That we were Our annual. As Freshmen, Sophomores, Juniors. At length— But we smile. The ultimate end A vast, superior smile, To which we have aspired: In i Commencement: Much flurry, hurry, ’Tis done,” we say, A —tears perhaps. and nod S We tread on air— Knowing in truth Apart. ’Tis really A Then last of all Just begun. s, t Good-byes, farewells. 1 1 ( 1 Pag: 29 1031

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nwA uta SLf i ! i i i I ( i w Class History 1930-1931 Freshmen: Green And knowing it. Yet constantly Having it rubbed in By superior beings Of whom we stand In awe apart— Strange voices. Strange people Order us Here, there, yonder In rapid succession. And we—follow blindly Here, there, anywhere, Because we are ships Without apparent sails— Ships lost in a vast sea And surrounded by terrors Of gigantic proportions. Sophomores: We are getting used to the place; The horrors are gradually Disappearing. We look about us Finding pleasant things. Perhaps even— We have acquired A faintly condescending air Toward those infinitely Inferior beings— Freshmen. Juniors: How is it We have advanced Thus far So rapidly? The place is changing. Somehow The Seniors have lost Much of their awe And that glory In which we have clothed them Heretofore. We are successful; We speak proudly Of picnics, banquets, plays. Our boys, too, Have flashed in glory More than once Upon the football field. We are quite familiar now With a certain abstract But essential thing. We have heard it Many times; They call it School spirit. Page 28 I I I I 10 3 1

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I ! i I t i i i tpA wa nwi mv sci Class Prophecy WELL, Christine Hampton, of all females, where have you been all my life? 1 mean, ever since we departed from dear old Haven High these ten long years ago to conquer the great wide world. You, a school teacher? Well, can you bear it? I never expected to sec you teaching ye good old fundamentals of education: Readin’— Writin’—And ’Rithmetic. Personally, I’ve been indulging in ye good old fundamentals of matrimony: cooking, scrubbing, and sewing buttons on Junior’s shirts. What—? You didn’t even know I was married? My cow! Here I’ve had poor dear Burnham in harness for almost five years, and you hadn’t an inkling of it. And what a husband he turned out to be. No, my dear, there’s no sarcasm in that. I mean he actually is. You sec he’s teaching rhetoric at Harvard (with Charles Kramig as his assistant), and he’s quite the pedagogic professor. You know he had to go abroad last summer to do some research in literature, and of course I trailed along, too. Well, dearie, did 1 go places and sec people (mostly see people)! You’d actually be surprised if you could know how many of our dear old class of ’31 are scattered to the four corners of the globe. And clothes? You really must see the perfectly an el things I brought back from Mile Haderer’s exclusive Paris salon. Speaking of Paris—you know Joe Cox is the American Ambassador over there. Can you feature it? But then he always was a little person in a big way. Well, he informed us about all the places one must see in Paris to really see anything, and one of those places was, of course, that sweet little palace out at Versailles. So then we immediately proceeded to hire a driver to take us right out. I thought the driver rather faintly resembled George Carlson, and sure enough it was he. Well, we had such a gay time reminiscing that poor dear Burnham really became quite jealous. However, I reached Versailles without being sued for divorce and some very sporty watchmen let us in. I later realized that one of them was Carl Brccce. Well, dearie, whom do you suppose we found inside the grounds? Our old friend, Mary Mooty. She was perched upon a quaint little stump busily sketching scenery. It seems she has one of those naughty Bohemian studios in the Latin Quarter and hires Mary Der and Virginia Dix as her models. Incidentally, she informed me that Esther Thompson has a violin studio right down the street. Then we had to dash back to our hotel, and what should we find but a copy of The Chief that Jeanne Curtis had sent us. It is still quite an entrancing publication and especially with Jeanne as Editor and Jack Guthrie as advertising manager. Another change I noticed was that the firm of Ware-Smith has given way to the present firm of Jahn-O’Neal and that the hearse is now under the capable guidance of Jerome Titus. Well, of course I was thrilled to hear all the gossip of our dear old class popping up like this; but just imagine my surprise when we were prowling around those perfectly fascinating ruins in Greece, to come across Bill Hansen and Bob PaK 30 I I I I I I I I 10 3 1