Prophet Foretells Seniors’ Lives In 1955
It was a dreary, rainy day last week
when I stumbled upon a bit of choice
news. As I said, it was really raining,
and my “sunshine curls” were drooping
—as usual. I decided to drive my new
auto that I’d just bought from Albert
Handley over to the beauty salon.
I was riding down La Boulevard when
I sighted one of my old classmates of
’42, the former Ruth Weil. I chuckled to
myself when I remembered how Ruth’s
one ambition, way back in the good old
days, was to become a perfect housewife,
and you can take it from me—she is!
Well, anyway, I just couldn’t resist the
temptation to stop a moment to chat,
and I was surprised to find that she too,
was laying down the broom and mop
long enough to get “beautified”.
We were greeted at the salon door by
beauticians Alma Griffin, Lucy O'Brien,
and Juliette Nassif. I had an appoint
ment with Alma and Juliette took Ruth.
We hadn’t been there five minutes
when the famous opera star, Betsy Cade,
dashed in followed by her secretaries,
Annie Howell and Cornelia Grice. Natur
ally Ruth and I were fascinated by her
appearance, and it was impossible for
us not to hear her. All the time Lorraine
Baddour was giving her a Swedish mas
sage, Miss Cade was making plans for
another one of her famous parties, and
both secretaries were taking notes just
as hard as they could.
“Don’t forget,” she was saying, “to see
Pepsi Hinson about having his band, and
tell him to be sure to bring his blues
singer, Leona Potter, along. Oh, yes,
invite Helen Denning and Carolyn Hol
lingsworth, those outstanding journal
ists. Do you have one to Notre Dame’s
new coach, Frank Kannan, and James
Crow, Broadway’s famous stage direc
tor? And by the way, Annie, did you see
Elaine Broivn, the interior decorator,
about decorating the ball room? You
did? Well, let me read your list of in
vitations now: Tom Shaver, he’s a very
eligible bachelor for some young lady;
why, he’s the most successful doctor in
town. And John Holmes, the chemical
engineer; Edwin Lee, the outstanding
plutocrat; Dickie Weatherly, the C. P. A.
accountant; J. C. Harrell, merchant; Boh
Powell, the stock broker; Lyndon Hart,
civil engineer, and Gloria Massengill,
the famous New York model. And we
mustn’t forget Joel Powers, Boh Wooten
and Philmon Ham, all businessmen.
Have the other invitations already been
sent? Oh, they have—well, good. I guess
now the thing to do is to see if Jimmy
Monds can arrange the lights as I want
them. He’s the best electrician in this
state!”
And on she went, planning for that
splendid ball. Ruth and I sat with our
mouths gaped open, listening for all we
were worth until she was finally taken
into another room, and before we had
time to say a word about her plans,
looks, dress or anything else, in walked
our old friends Hilda Bell and Mary
Mitcham. Hilda’s now the private secre
tary of the famous surgeon, Dr. Joseph
Invernizzi, and Mary heads the out
standing music and dance school here.
Per usual, Hilda was bubbling over
with news from the hospital. She told
us that Juanita Jones, an officer in the
Salvation Army, had been brought in
today to be treated for a sprained arm.
Hilda informed us, however, that the
pain was so severe, a nurse Jane Parks
carried her to the laboratory technician,
Edwina Jinnette to be x-rayed. There
Dr. Nancy P. Swift found that it was
a compound fracture. Not only that,
but there had been an accident over at
the airport. It seemed that two planes
had collided, but fortunately, neither
Keith McClenny nor H. F. Ferguson, the
pilots, had been seriously injured. Some
of the other Army Air Corps pilots,
David Bradshaw, Gordon Hunt, J. D.
Pike, Warren Wiggins, and Quinn Ander
son rescued them before the planes began
to burn. The ambulance with nurses
Thelma Nichols, Rosa Vinson^ Juliette
Farfour and Eleanor Jones had arrived
only a few minutes afterwards and they
administered such efficient first-aid that
the boys were to be released the next
day.
“Why, hello girls! Golly, am I glad
to see you! I’ve got some of the most
exciting news!” — That was Margaret
Magill, one of the high school teachers
who really doesn’t need to visit a beauty
shop, but is usually around. The excit
ing news was that Alice Graham and
Effie Ruth Maxwell, who had studied
Home Economics at college, were at last
going to have a chance to practice what
they’d learned. They were getting mar
ried in June!
“Well, that’s nothing,” interrupted
Hilda, “haven’t you heard that Frances
Stafford and Lucille Pope, nurses over
at the hospital, are to be married soon,
and—”
Neither Ruth nor I could get a word
in anywhere, so Ruth jumped into the
middle of Hilda’s sentence to ask, “Mar
garet, who’s teaching Home Economics
out at school this year?”
“Dot Perkins, Ruth Minton and Evelyn
Pate,” answered Margaret.
“By the way,” said Mary, “I guess you
knew our former classmates, Virginia
Hopewell, Margaret Scott, and Barbara
Edwards have given up their careers to
become housewives, too, didn’t you?”
“The lucky things”—that came from
Margaret.
At this moment, one of the beauty
operators. Brownie Carraway came run
ning in from lunch.
“The Bank Building is burning,” she
excitedly screamed—
“The Bank building?”—we all echoed.
“Is anyone hurt? How much has
burned?”
“Well,” she answered, “It wasn’t all
burned down. Up on the second floor,
though, that’s' the floor J. R. Barnes,
the contractor, and Norwood West, busi
nessman, have their offices on — the
door to the steps was locked and the
elevator was busy, so all those secre
taries and stenographers were jumping
out the windows to the nets below.”
“Who were they?” we asked.
“Oh, Lizzie Mae Adams, Violet May
Taylor, Lucille Muse, Ruby Crumpler,
Helen Bissette, Janice Knight, and Char
les 0’Steen were some of them from the
second floor, but the most daring were
the jumps from the fourth floor. You
know, that’s where the fire started.
Some of those who jumped from that
floor, were Hazel Brady, Barbara Rob
erts, Dorothy Grice, and Jane Lee
Waters. The fire was reported by the
telephone operator, Lois Wiegand. Gray
Whitford, the Scout Master, was there
directing his Scouts all around. They
were a big help. And do you remember
those famous pictures Dorothy Jessup
and Juanita Person painted? Well, they
were saved by Graves Lewis, who’s in
the farm machinery business. Dr. Rich
ard Borden was there; and Fannie Lou
Parker of the Red Cross, also. Marian
Hinkle, Mary Louise Wells and Lucille
Johnson, all nurses, were helping.”
“Did you see anyone else, and did any
thing else exciting happen?” we wanted
to know.
“Oh, nothing else exciting,” she said,
“but something funny. While I was
watching, A. J. Oliver, the government
draftsman, came running out to Bobby
Heyward, the aeronautical engineer, and
Bobby Harrington, the electrical engi
neer, who were standing right next to
me, and said just as calm as if nothing
had happened, ‘Oh, well, it was almost
time for me to leave for the ball game.
Now I’ll get an early start!’ ”
“The ball game!” exclaimed Hilda.
“That reminds me. Our old friend Clyde
King is coaching the home team now,
and did you know that Russell Nickens
is coaching the Duke team?
“I knew it,” cried Mary, “and Brinkley
Taylor, J. C. Rose and Donell Garris are
on our own home team.”
“You know,” said Ruth, “that reminds
me. So many of our old friends and
classmates are sports fans. Frances
Gaddy, Agnes Hallow, Mary Emma
Rouse, Eleanor Crocker and Linwood
Harrell are all physical education in
structors. And Gertrude Edgerton is
teaching at our old alma mater. Geraldine
Daniels is a saleswoman and Edward
Joyner’s a radio engineer.”
“Whatever became of Billy Haire?”
asked Margaret.
“Why, didn’t you know? He and
Thurman Cratvford are both doing radio
engineering now. And several of our
old pals are buyers for department
stores—Ruth Britt, Geraldine Edmund-
son, and La-Rose Whaley just to men
tion a few. And they all work in
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