Woodlan Senior High School - Arrow Yearbook (Woodburn, IN)

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Prophecies It isn't raining rain to me It's raining a prophecy In every crystaled drop I glimpse Something that is to be. No clouds of gray engulf this night And overwhelm this town It isn't raining rain to me It's raining happiness down For after every shower Which lets the sun shine through. You'll see the bow of beauty Arched in the heavenly blue And at the end of the rainbow You'1l see a pot of gold And there I'll seek a prophecy In which your future's told. DROPS OF RAIN Stormy show- ersg a rain- ln Both bow with sun- shine promised HARD AND SOFT WATER Published in 'T3 Price: Your 24' Worth Editor's Note: This paper dedicated to put out the fire of Woodburn, and lest the smoke of the Class of '53 gets in your eyes, it is written in a special breezy manner! iii? KENNETH BECKER GIVEN TO FOREIGN LEGION The scoop of the year is a special news item concerning Kenny Becker. After Kenny was graduated from Woodburn High, he joined the WAF's, but because of disorderly conduct, he was sent to the Foreign Legion, where he recently has been appointed chaplain. :k is :ef 4: , Lowell Becker, whose great aspiration to be a doctor, was slightly mislaid in his prernedic course. It seems his scientific and mathematical brain developed an interest in disproving great scientific theciries already established as factual. He is rm head controversial man on the Atom team and already has disproved the revolutionary hypothesis, excluding rotary and accelerated motions. From all Becker astronomical observations, there are two postulates which seem to be mutually contradictory. He is also working on the Quantum Theory, the interferometer, and the aberation of the atom.

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I, Betty Gerbers, a quiet young lass, Will to Carolyn Gregg in the Junior Class, My ability to ride in classy new cars, And look at the moon and gaze at the stars. I, Bob Stafford, so tall and lean, Will to Bud Fry my starting berth on the basketball team Also my ability to argue in class, To sleep and dream and still get to pass. I, Johnny Ehresman, with abilities rare, With Walter Webster I would like to share, The catcher's job on the softball team, Keep up the chatter and stay on the beam. And also with Donald Becker I will part, My crew hair cut which is dear to my heart, Long hair is quite an aggravation, Cut it off and you have ventilation. I, Jerry Becker, with a laugh so rare, Will to Bob Persyn a boy so fair, The ability to laugh in the typing room, And watch the girls in the assembly swoon. I, Lawrence Wells, the flirt of the class, Will to Phyllis Sweet, a timid young lass, The power to talk throughout the day, Without running out of something to say. I, Lowell Becker, full of ambition, Will to Roselyn Stucky a great musician, All my old trombone parts that really toot, It may be hard to read since you play a flute. And also to Lonnie Voorhies I will bestow, The ability, of which you all know, To keep quiet in the study hall, Five whole minutes that's all. In witness whereof we have subscribed our names and fixed our seal this twenty-fifth day of April, in the year one thousand nine hundred and fifty three A. D. The Senior Class

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That tall, handsome artist of the class, Harold Gerig, worked his way through Cincinnati Art School and is now quite famous for his current pen and pencil sketches of pretty damsels. In fact, Esquire Magazine last year ap- pointed him as head Calendar Artist. The Gerig Girls as his models for the Esquire Calendars are known, are extremely photogenic, ln honor of the Girls by Gerig, Scott Smith, High School Principal, is doing over his office with modern art and has chosen only the originals of the Gerig Girls for the main decor. But the latest scoop on Gerig says that he and Grandma Moses are combining talents and will be known to the great art critics and sympathizers as Gram and Gramp . Oh yes, 'lGramp 81 Gram are picking up a sizable hunk of pin money by painting advertisements for lVlinute Rub . va me ik :r Sharon Purk, poor little Sharon, finally gave up the chase, and started a highly respectable old ladies' home at Gas City. But, they say, there is life in the old girl yet, because the building contractor himself, recently filed application to build an adjoining dormitory for old gentlemen. There are to be firecrackers and picnics on July 4th, bass drums, drum sticks, turkey trot and bugle corps on Thanksgiving Day, and to top the planned pro- grams, every old lady and gentleman will hang her and his stocking, res- pectively and respectfully, on Christmas Eve. There is absolutely a surprise assured for every old sock. If you are nearing 40, please go to Purk's Old Folks' Home, guaranteed to perk you up and keep you hoping another lO years or so. 1:1 4 1 1 Immediately following May 20, 1953, QMay Zlst, to be exactl little dark- eyed Vivian Weaver QI beg your pardon? Vivian Witte, attended Warner's Beauty College and became a full-fledged beauty operator. In fact, she became such a smooth operator, that she and Lucy West Qoften dream of Lucy with the dark- brown hair, joined scissors, frizzers, twizzers and appointment books. They have become such close business associates that they even take turns dating Tony Bennet. Lucy and Viv are currently heard and seen on radio and televi- sion on the commercial Which Twin Has The Toni wk lk 251 lk Here is something that it seems that could run in ca-hoots with Purk's Old Folk's home. Suzanne Souder and Corrine Wetter graduated from the Methodist Hospital School of Nursing in '57 with B. S. and R. N. Degrees. The B. S. stands for Science of Bachelors. Both have given up staff positions at Blue Cast and are running a nursing home for unhappy husbands and bachelors. They can surely put their degrees to good usage. Suzie's and Wetter's slogan reads: Attention all unhappy husbands and eligible bachelors: Go to Suzie's for solace, Wetter you be sick, sad, or soured. Old Saw-Bones, Jerry Becker, laid down his saw, as, and sundry cutleries, jerked down his M. D. shingle and handed himself over to Human Guinea Pig Experiments, lnc. For a good many years after he graduated from I. U. Medical School, you could hear him sawing, far into the night, whistling while he whacked or sawed off a leg here, an arm there. It is nice to note, that neighbors became so sick and tired of hearing the screams and groans of patients mingled with the screeching of the rusty electric saw, that they took up a good-sized pocketbook, 15549. 371 and bought him a silencer for that saw. There was enough left over for a small, but quite adequate gas