(To the tune of "Symphony")
We must say goodbye.
Seems we just began,
And now we Part.
Filled with laughs and tears,
And our teachers dear,
Are in our heart.
Though we may-be millions of miles away,
You will be-a part of each passing day,
Like the dew, Skies of blue.
Wilson High, Guess it's just good-bye,
But you'll always be,
Here in our memory,
By EDWIN BERRY
Well, whattaya know? Here's that photograph album I've been keeping all through high school. Gosh, this old book brings back loads of memories.
Here we are that first day at Wilson, feeling important at the thought of being high school students. We scarcely recognized our pals from grammar school. The girls bad cut off their braids and long curls and were sporting wavy feather bobs. The peak of our new "sophistication" was the fact that none of the boys were wearing knickers~not even Len Kaplan. What an exciting day that was.
But our feeling of importance didn't last long. Here's a snapshot of some of us being kidded by those teasing sophomores. We went through every trick and torture any freshman class has ever known~from buying reservations in the lunch room to going to Mr. Jones for corks for the water fountains. We really had a tough time, but we managed to survive our difficulties with the help of Miss Wood-house, our adviser, and Billy Fore, our class president.
This picture is dated fall 1943. No longer the scapegoats of the school, we sophomores seem pretty satisfied with ourselves. Here's a girl in a deep Swoon. No doubt, Rhae Adams or Charlie Fleming had just passed by. Oh, oh! In the next few photos we're wearing worried expressions. the results, probably of algebra 4 or A Tale of Two Cities. Billy Fore was re-elected as president of our class and again we chose Miss Woodhouse for our adviser.
Why, here's the snapshot of Mrs. Roosevelt as we all saw her the day she visited Wilson High. And here's a picture of "Buck" Childs. All of us grief stricken that year when our beloved classmate and friend died as a result of a football injury. Yes, a lot of unforgettable events took place in our sophomore year.
Turn another page and here we are juniors, and quite an active bunch, too. Here's Dot Buck as editor-in-chief of The Student, a position she kept until she graduated. From our class came many of Wilson's most outstanding athletes -Mounie, Fleming, Richards, Adams, Borjes, and others. That picture shows some of the contestants in the Tidewater literary contests, Lila Satz, Charles Wood, Thomas Bradshaw, and Rosalie Schlitz. Billy Fore was our class president (for a change) and Miss Eleanor Dashiell was our adviser. Here's a picture of that year's Student Council in which, I see, some of our class had important offices.
What a thrilling year that was, packed with the joys of Frank Sinatra, Mur-den's, Dramatic Club plays, the Junior-Senior Prom, and, best of all, the ending of the war. But it also had its tragic side, with the world wide lamented death of our late President, Franklin Delano Roosevelt.
These last snapshots are the best, although how we ever found time for photo-graphy in our senior year I can't imagine. "Speed, hurry, rush!" must have been our slogan. We were kept pretty busy working on The President or The Student staff, ordering rings, announcements, and calling cards, memorizing Shakespeare, slaving over those . . . . bibliographies, and performing in auditorium programs.
This year Miss Dashiell was again our adviser and Rhae Adams our class president. Billy Fore was elected president of the Student Council of which several others of our class were officers.
These pictures of Baby Day are just adorable, and these photos of Janice Adams, Anne Dempsey, Beverley Beck, Jean Crowder, and Billy Gay as cheer leaders are awfully cute.
And here at last are some pictures of our graduation. Don't we look ambitious and inspired in our caps and gowns? And of course, that's Marjorie Cross crying her eyes out. We all felt rather sad to be leaving Wilson at last. Those four years flew by so swiftly that even with such preliminaries as taking pictures for the annual and filing applications for diplomas did not prepare us for the unhappy moment when we said good-bye to Woodrow Wilson High School.
And so the book is closed~but nothing can ever make us forget the ties of friendship and happiness which bind us loyally together forever~the Class of 1946.