'i
Page 2
THE LEXHIPEP
I
May 23, 1947
The Lexhipep
Published Monthly by the Students of the
Lexington High School, Lexington, North Carolina
^rtiJATioiKd
4SSt^
1946-47 EDITORIAL STAFF
Editor-In-Chief Becky Smtih
Auistont Editor Tommy Young
Literary Editor Bob Peeler
Assistant Literary Editor - Adele Tuttle
School News Editor Mary Sue Thomason
Sports Editor Bill Hedrick
Assistant Sports Editor Hubert Olive
Joke Editor - Johnny McCrary
Feature Editor Sue Hooper
Columnists ------ Martha Horbinson, Mary Ann Hortzog
Reporter Betty Jo Everhart
Exchange Editor Jock Swoim
Alumni Editor Enid Ayers
1946-47 BUSINESS STAFF
Business Monoger Woody McKay
Assistant Business Manager Tommy Stokes
Bookkeeper W. Stanford Tote
Photographers ------- - Bill Johnson, John Hudson
Typists ..... Jock Aiber, Ruth Jones, Ralph Musgrove, Evelyn McDode
Advisor Mrs. Ottls M. Hedrick
i:*, !:
’ 1
I
t * ' {
V
Would You?
—Mary McLendon
George Clark sighed happily as he settled back into his big, comfortable
easy chair. He reached for his pipe on the table beside him; and in one quick,
practiced gesture he had it lighted and into his mouth. Baby Isadora cooed
softly in the next room. He could hear his wife, Sally, in the kitchen making
preparations for supper. Buster, the wire-haired terrier, who had been routed,
from his favorite nestling place, chewed playfully on the evening paper lying
on the floor by the chair.
A sudden rapping came at the front door, which stood wide open, letting
the last rays of the warm summer sun into the living room. George snug
gled down into his chair, which was hidden from the view of anyone at the
door, hoping to drive away the intruder of his reverie. Then, as the rapping
came almost incessantly, he got up with the quick vitality of youth and
sprang to the dooi'. There stood Jenkins, covered with the black dust de
noting his trade, who should just be finishing his shift at the time. “Mr.
Clark,” he spurted out rapidly, “part of the mine has caved in. Five of ’ern
are still in there.”
Jenkins’ face was paled a ghastly white through the coal dust. The
force of his words struck George wholly unprepared, but he gained control
of himself and collected the facts from the terrified miner. An accident
burying alive five miners had happened at the Clark mine, which George
had inherited from his father. These deaths could be prevented if one man
would be willing to give up his life to save them.
♦ ♦ * * *
Some years ago, the salt water slapped rhythmically against the side
of the rubber life raft, and the sun shone brilliantly down. Here and there
sharks bobbed up in the water. The two men sat arguing with slow words
that came from parched lips and throats. It was a case of George Clark,
American, vs. Isadora Pinklestein, Jew, also American. The consideration
was a quarter of a diluting tablet for salt water, which the two figured
would dilute one swallow of water before the water seeped through George’s
khaki shirt, the water container. The plaintiff was indistinguishable. Isa
dora, however, presented the stronger case, for he insisted that, since George
was married and he was not, anything he could do to prolong George’s life,
he should and would do; so George drank the water reluctantly. For days
the two had battled the Pacific waters together. God was their only hope.
Isadora, a Christian Jew, had found God for George, who since his childhood
had forgotten Him. Together, the two kept faith.
After the water was drunk, Isadora lasted for only five days more. It is
surprising that his strength lasted that long. Death for him was slow and
prolonged; but when it came, it brought relief. Georgia uttered a short,
broken prayer and rolled the light body over the side of the raft into the
ocean. It was a clean death, a death in an ocean that gives rp witness of life.
George lived on in his new-found strength from his new-found faith.
In two days a plane flew over the raft, but George was too weak to attempt
signaling. Miraculously, the crew of the plane sighted him; and the giant
aircraft slowly circled and landed on the water to rescue him. His prayers
had been answered. He had been saved by God, who owed him nothing.
« « « * *
George looked at his wife, who now stood in the doorway of the kitchen.
He knew that she had heard and would understand that this was his duty
as she had understood when he said that they must name the baby Isadora,
even though people were always commenting that it was strange to give one’s
baby a Jewish name. “Yes,’.’ George reflected, “I have reaped more than I
have sown.” George picked up his hat, and the screen door slammed
behind him.
t *
'* Ye new and ye old.
The Lexhipep Staff of 1947-48
Editor Tommy Young
Assistant Editor Joanne Koontz
Literary Editor Martha Cox
A.sslstant Literary Editor Roberta Bafford
School News Editor Agnes Wilson
Sports Editor Doug Craver
Assistant Sports Editor Doster Wood
Joke Editor Buddy Bender
Feature Editor Nancy Witherspoon
Reporters Grace Hendricks, Mary Jo Sharpe
Columnists Martha Harbinson and Olivia Coggins
Exchange Editor Bobby Glenn Hendricks
Alumni Editor Peggy Wood
BUSINESS
Business Manager T. D. Stokes
Assistant Business Manager Jackie Evans
Bookkeeper Nancy Waltman
Photographer Kelly Beck
Typists Isabell Essick, Ruth Jenkins, Theola Jordon, Margie Coggins
To the Class of 1947:
Yours is the first senior class to complete twelve full years in the Lexington
Schools. This is a distinct honor to your group. May you each strive to set
a record of service to your school and community that will be a model for
other classes to follow. I shall watch your career with a special interest and
pride. We entered Lexington High School together, and I feel that you are
in £. limited degree “MY CHILDREN”. I shall rejoice to see any measure
of success and happiness come your way.
No man is big enough, strong enough, or smart enough to make a suc
cess of life without giving God a chance to direct his thoughts and activities.
It is my sincere hope that each of you will give special attention to the spir
itual and religious activities of your community.
“Count that day lost, whose low descending sun
Views from thy hand no worthy action done.”
WILLIAM D. PAYNE
*Note: Young is the first male editor since 1939.
FAREWELL TO SENIORS
It has been a profound pleasure for me to be associated with the splendid
young ladies and gentlemen of the Class of 1947. To you, the first twelfth
grade graduates of Lexington High, I say, “Congratulations.”
You have worked hard, have denied yourselves, and have proved that you
have ambition and determination to overcome obstacles. All of us rejoice
with you in the honor that comes to you at this time of your graduation.
Remember, Seniors, that many factors have been involved in making it
possible for you to attain the pleasure of this hour. You have done well your
part. Your parents, also, have been an important factor. It has cost them
much in worry, in interest, in sacrifice, and in money to see that you
remained in school; and they feel a just pride in your accomplishments. The
City of Lexington, Davidson County, and the State of North Carolina have
all made an investment in you, and I feel sure that your future lives will
prove that this investment has been a wise one.
Graduation from the twelfth grade places you in a very selected group.
'The majority of boys and girls of your ages have not attained this record.
We are counting on each of you to push on and push upward so that the
halo of your accomplishments in the future will reflect an afterglow to crown
you, your parents, your city, county, and state with a radiant wreath of honor.
Your friend,
L. E. ANDREWS, Superintendent
Hero’s Return
—Adele Tuttle
Editor's Note: Each yeor the O'Henry Book
Club of this city offers o prize for the best
short story, the contest open to oil juniors
and seniors of Lexington High School. Hero s
Return" is the winning story, written by Adele
Tuttle, of the graduating doss. Miss Tuttle
is the only daughter of Mr. and Mrs. N. G.
Tuttle, 114 West Sixth Avenue.
Looking up her main street, you
would think that it was like another
summer’s day in Cassville. It wasn’t,
though, for Cassville’s war hero. Tip
Reed, was coming home. Tip, Alex
ander parks Reed to the army, had
been in the service for four years.
In that time he had won himself a
Congressional Medal of Honor, a Pur
ple Heart, a Distinguished Service
Cross, and an Infantryman’s Badge.
Yes, Tip was a hero! Hadn’t he sin-
glehandedly blown up a Jap ammuni
tion dump? Hadn’t he rescued a
wounded buddy under enemy fire?
Hadn’t Tip risked his life many, many
times so that his country could have
freedom? You couldn’t deny that he
was a real hero to the folks back
home.
Cassville had been planning for
Tip’s homecoming ever since his
mother got word that he would be
home in three weeks. The mayor had
a big Welcome Home speech ready,
the high school band had practiced
three hours every day, the Girl Scouts
and Boy Scouts had made signs, the
Ladies’ Aid Society had fixed up a
big banquet for him, and Men’s Club
had got together a program of local
talent to entertain him. Everyone was
getting ready for Tip Reed Day. That
is, everyone except Dee Parnell, old
Doctor Parnell’s young daughter.
Dee had been in the Navy as a
nurse for two years. She had seen
lots of men like Tip, so Tip was no
hero to her any more than the rest
were. Ex-Navy Nurse Parnell was go
ing to spend a nice, quiet day at
home in the cool shade instead of
standing under a sweltering sun gap
ing at a hero of the army.
(Continued on page six)