Class Poem

Rosemary Branagan

Class History

F. Estol Simmons, '19

     August 14, 1915, saw the freshmen of the class of '19 entering Johnstown High School. When we look at the present freshmen it seems almost incredible that we were so little. Yet, no doubt the seniors at that time considered us as green, insignificant and unsophisticated as we consider the freshmen now. At any rate, though we were small in stature, we enrolled the enormous number of four hundred and thirty-six members. Quite a strong beginning. The upper classmen accorded a very warm reception the evening we graduated from the grammer grades, at which time they pursued us through the streets on hotfoot. This consideration on their part was even more vigorously renewed upon our entrance. However, we had a worthy representative in the person of "Nemo" and a few friendly (?) informal engagements between him and the upper classmen brought them to realize that we were worthy of recognition. Even then we had to run the customary gauntlet of misdirection and subsequent embarrassment which befall the freshmen. In spite of this fact, we summoned what dignity we possessed, disregarded the pranks of our seniors, and decided to busy ourselves.
     The final exams thinned our ranks somewhat, but those of us who had been exposed to them successfully looked forward hopefully to the next fall.
     The mortality had been very heavy. Consequently the next fall, only two hundred and ninety of our number returned to school. We wise fools were not daunted by that, but started to make good the decision of our freshman year. This year the general active reception for the freshmen was very much moderated by the presence of "cops" at the street corners patronized by the greenies, whose delicate constitutions it was feared we might injure. Reflecting on the greeting accorded us led us to say, "Them wuz the happy days."

     The year passed without event, till the final chapel exercises for the class of '17. The farewell gave us a hint of the feeling of Seniors and we resolved to attain that rank.
     The next year we assembled as Juniors, ready for more active service. Accordingly, we elected Wilbur Mulhollen, president; Wilmot Gould, vice president; Ruby Rishell, secretary, and Paul McCloskey, treasurer. Under guidance of these worthy officers, we enjoyed an eventful and successful year. At the Thanksgiving chapel exercises, Miss Woodring's pupils presented "The First Thanksgiving Dinner," a play in which our class was represented.
     Some of our energy was devoted to football, in which the Juniors had five "letter men" and eight men who received silver footballs. Johnstown had the extreme pleasure of playing Washington High School's squad to a tie for the championship of the Western Pennsylvania Inter-scholastic Football League. We prize the Syracuse championship tie trophy, a handsome "life-size" silver football, very highly and feel that the class of '19 helped to win it.
     Basketball also claimed our attention. Our class was represented in the varsity team and won first place in the Inter-class League.
     The ninth of February, the Junior Class entertained the Seniors at the annual Junior-Senior Reception. A play, "A Proposal Under Difficulties," was produced, after which refreshments were served. During the remainder of the evening, we resorted to dancing and various other social activities. All in all, the reception proved very delightful.
     This year the system of marking by letters was adopted. "A" and "B" were the highest marks. To get them was our great desire. Those who had marks of "A" and "B" at the end of the first semester, formed what was known as the A-B Club, and elected officers. This group contained "the cream of the intellect." An entertainment was proposed and accordingly was held April the twenty-eighth, at which time the play "Spreading the News" was given.
     About this time a few members of our class enlisted in

the U. S. Service. Among these were Fulton Connor and Carl Knauf. Both attained the rank of Corporal in active service. The former was wounded and the latter was killed. In honor of them and others from High School, the Juniors presented to the school a bronze tablet on which is inscribed, "We are proud of men from this organization who are defending the cause of God, humanity, and America."
     Further evidence of our dramatic ability was shown in the play "David Garrick," given on Junior Dramatic night.
     The Junior year was one of great activity and moment. At last, however, we were Seniors. For class officers we relected Wilbur Mulhollen, for president; elected Archie Matthews, vice president; Hilda Ellis, secretary, and Charles Gaffney, treasurer.
     Twice the influenza epidemic put a ban on our schools, and cut out two months of our school year. Nevertheless, we came back stronger than ever in the determination to complete our assignments despite the handicap.
     Scarcely had we settled when the '18½ class graduated. Wilbur Mulhollen, our class president, expressed in behalf of his class the regret at losing the comradeship of the '18½ class. In response, John McHugh, president of that class, gave a touching farewell. Once more we felt the regret for departure and it seemed that our school days were all too short.
     This year no trophy was awarded in the Western Pennsylvania Interscholastic Football League. Had one been awarded, Johnstown would more than likely have won it, for she defeated all high school teams in the western part of the State. We might practically call it our team, as it was composed largely of Seniors. This was true too of basketball, in which Johnstown won second place of Section II of the Western Pennsylvania Interscholastic Basketball League.
     The Juniors entertained us March the first. Members of Miss Statler's class produced a playlet, "The Old Maid." In addition to this a reading and musical numbers were rendered. After the refreshments, we spent the rest of the eve-

ning dancing. The reception proved a delightful entertainment.
     The announcement of the honor roll revealed the fact that our class had established records both in highness of marks and in time of completing the high school course.
     Now at length we are at the end of our Senior year. One hundred and eighty-six are left from the original enrollment.
     Exams are a memory, no longer disturbing. Senior vacation is a reality. Strains of our operetta reach the ears of the half-envious lower classmen as they toil over their tasks. Only a few more days. Then Commencement and then--the untried future. Old J. H. S. is full of associations. Memories of tasks we did not like and of pranks in which we rejoiced, come back to us. We did our share of growling and of work. We had our share of "fun and frolic." The balance was about even.
     Now we pause ere we go to express a word of gratitude and appreciation. We are deeply indebted to the faculty for making our high school course both profitable and pleasnt. We hope that in our life service we may bring honor to J. H. S., that we may uphold her standards, and that we may ever respect and abide by our class motto, "To thine own self be true."

Class Prophecy

Georgia Greer, '19

     In the year 1926 my friend X---- and I, leaving the ranch in the hands of our competent foreman, left for the East and Europe on a well-earned vacation.
     Our trip was most unusual. I shall never forget it--and I shall tell it to you in detail, for strange to say, I met on my trip many former classmates of '19, back in my High School days in Johnstown.
     At Chicago, as we hurried to the subway, I noticed a tall, golden-haired man on an elevated platform with a bottle in his hand--making some evidently interesting remarks to a large crowd, and I recognized, to my surprise, Calvin Young, selling his famous "Natural Curler and Hair Restorer." His product was selling rapidly, too.
     We found our train, and as we sped on through the night heard a commotion in the stateroom next to ours, and, glancing out, whom should I see but Elizabeth Rohde enter, now a famous star on her way east to sing with Paul McCloskey, a singer who had recently obtained fame. She slipped out of sight as I gasped my astonishment. The above information I obtained from the porter.
     In New York I met several more classmates--Robert Glock, a prosperous broker; Harold Kahl, a vaudeville dancer, and his dancing partner, Louise Long. I saw Gwendolyn Honeywell flashing by in a racing car. She had married a millionaire, I was told. As we entered our hotel, at the desk was none other than Ensign Hudson, correctly white in naval uniform, and with him Major Tredennick.
     The orchestra in the dining room was led by Wilbur Mulhollen, our former class president. Every one was listening with rapt attention to his rendition of "When You and I Were Young, Maggie." On our final day in New York we went to see a new play entitled "Evidence." In the cast Austin Harrington appeared as the star. In a box on the left I

saw a woman sitting with several men and about whom every one whispered, "Miss Branagan, New York's famous critic, and her two aides, Norris Quest and Tom Quirk." Behind her chair the manager, Worth Bailey, and the playwright, Norman Anderson, stood at respectful attention. She bowed right and left with impersonal glances, but did not see me, as I was in an obscure corner in the twenty-sixth row.
     As we left the theater, in the lobby I met Hartnett, official artist for "Art and Music," a new classic magazine. He was dressed in conventional evening clothes, but his Bohemian companions, Wilmot Gould and Archie Matthews, were in the accepted artist's costume.
     Wondering at my strange encounters, as we took a cab to a restaurant I was even more surprised to find Mary Bacon singing songs to a highly appreciative audience of diners at Rochelle's, a well-known restaurant.
     As we went to our table Margaret Ott hailed us. She was the head of a large hospital, and, it is rumored, engaged to a leading medical man.
     The next day, as we drove to the dock, we saw in Central Park a handsome woman singing to thousands of people, in the interest of a welfare league. The young woman was Mildred Custer and her accompaniest Almira Crueger.
     When we went on board the inspector at the docks was none other than Eugene Watkins. We noticed seaplanes hovering over us, and in one was Minter Ott, whom I recognized with the aid of my glasses, in spite of his goggles and helmet. His passengers were George Clarke, a western merchant, and Lois Detweiler, now a famous social worker. They waved to us as they passed.
     More surprises awaited me on board. Sara Bailey, an international tennis star, swung down the deck on her way to a practice game with Joseph Suhre, an athlete, going to a track meet at London. In the stateroom, several doors from us I met Mrs. Russel Brown, formerly Frances Rutledge, and she told me she was awaiting her husband, who was at an advertisers' convention and would join her shortly to sail for

Ireland. As the boat was to leave in about an hour, we hurried to the gangplank, and there I saw Mary Devlin, Mary Eckel, Dorothy Fox and Margaret Hamilton hurrying through the crowd. They said they were going to France to do secretarial work at the American Embassy, and Louise Preston joined them presently, as she was going to study music in Paris.
     Katharine and Virginia Walters, renowned violinists, came aboard on their way to tour England in a series of concerts. As we went on I met other classmates on the boat, among them John Endsley, who was on his way to Africa as a missionary.
     James Hutchinson had an engineering contract for the French government, and was on the boat with his assistant, George Tomb.
     Madeline Picking was going to a fall style show in Paris, and Frances Suppes was to join her husband, who was a captain in the English army.
     On the boat was a motion picture company, whose director was our old friend, Georgie Lightcap, and with him several famous actresses, among them Edna Decker and Pearl Way. Bill Hughes and Bennett Findlay were the comedians, they having replaced Douglas Fairbanks and William S. Hart.
     Margaret Orris was at the dock when we sailed. She told us she was teaching dancing, having taken over the Chaly school.
     We heard from some of the others that the submarine lying to our left was in command of Carl Ohlson, and in his crew were Raymond Schell, wireless operator, and Andrews Shreve, chief engineer.
     In the last New York papers I bought before sailing were the headlines to the effect that, at a conference at the Madison Square Garden, Hon. Estol Simmons was to head delegates from all nations for the purpose of forming an International Trade Alliance. He would represent the United States and would be accompanied by his secretary, Gaius Wertz.
     As we went on deck a huge plane loomed over us, a

sailor hailed the aviator. I inquired his name, and was surprised to learn that the aviator was David Jones, who was the aerial mail carrier for New York City, and his mechanic was Charles Gaffney.
     We sailed shortly afterwards.

     And so the summer passed. We finally arrived again in America. Going west by the southern route, ke met Ruby Rishell at Palm Beech, now a great authoress, and very wealthy.
     Here, too, we met Karl Fries, who owned extensive fruit groves where the best fruit in the country was raised for the purposes of obtaining their juices; as this sort of beverage was now used exclusively all over the country since the days of '19, when prohibition went into effect. His "Virginia Peach" brand was particularly delicious.
     In New Orleans we met Julia Matthews, who had married a wealthy Southerner, and who had as her guests several members of foreign nobility, among them Margaret Hay, who had married into the de Laramie family of France. Julia told us that Margaret Masters was the head of a hospital in Tennessee.
     Two weeks after leaving New Orleans we were home. It was election week, and we noticed in the returns that Gwendolyn Teitelbaum was elected Governor of Colorado. In the living room, before the fire, I told X----- of these many classmates of mine whom we had met. What changes time had brought!
     I regretted that I had not chanced upon all members of the class. It is true that, here and there, in the ever-changing crowds, I had glimpsed many other familiar faces, only to lose them again, as the surging crowds swept them beyond my sight.
     But it seemed to me, as I mused on my experiences, that the members of dear old '19 were making their mark in the world.

Senior Plans