Delaware High School 1928-1932
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 1)
Description
[page 1]
[corresponds to front cover of Delaware High School]
DELAWARE
HIGH SCHOOL
1928-1932
[photo of Delaware High School]
by
FREDERICK A. NORWOOD
[corresponds to front cover of Delaware High School]
DELAWARE
HIGH SCHOOL
1928-1932
[photo of Delaware High School]
by
FREDERICK A. NORWOOD
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 2)
Description
[page 2]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 2 of Delaware High School]
PREFACE
By FREDERICK NORWOOD
The next time you are walking
down Winter Street, pause to
look at the big old brick building
set solidly between the Presbyte-
rian and Episcopal churches.
"Delaware High School," Yes, it
really was.
This series tells the story of
the last class to graduate from
that ancient structure, which was
more than half destroyed by fire
in the freshman year of the Class
of 1932. The series is something
more than that: It attempts to re-
capture what Delaware and life in
Delaware were like two genera-
tions and two high school build-
ings ago.
Yes, Frank B. Willis High
School, toward which we were
yearning for almost four years,
has itself been replaced by
Rutherford B. Hayes High School
--located, by the way, where Su-
perintendent R. D. Conrad had
wanted it in 1929.
Part of the story is painful be-
cause it circulates around the
struggles for a new building
which developed in the combined
disasters of fire and depression.
It is painful because it bears
on the lives of many citizens and
their families as they were caught
in the deprivations of the Great
Depression. But the pain was, as
always, mingled with joy and
even exuberance. Thus the story
is an archetype of human life.
Perhaps it may help bridge the
chasm which now exists between
the present crop of high school
students and their grandparents.
A few items I have kept in dis-
creet silence. Delaware is still a
small town; and, although there
are many features of small town
life I cherish, long gossipy small-
minded memories are not one of
them. The closet for our skele-
tons is not large, but neither is it
empty.
My sources are, simply: my
own memories and those of
some of my classmates, the four
Yearbooks, and the files of the
Delaware Daily Gazette. I am es-
pecially grateful for the coopera-
tion of the Delaware County Dis-
trict Public Library, the Delaware
County Historical Society, and
the editors of The Gazette.
I was given permission to use
issues of runs in the Gazette files
that were not available anywhere
else. Many of those file copies --
the more recent ones (because
of the quality of the paper) -- are
on the verge of disintegration. In
a few years the fragile pages I so
gently turned will no longer be in
existence anywhere in the world.
[corresponds to unlabeled page 2 of Delaware High School]
PREFACE
By FREDERICK NORWOOD
The next time you are walking
down Winter Street, pause to
look at the big old brick building
set solidly between the Presbyte-
rian and Episcopal churches.
"Delaware High School," Yes, it
really was.
This series tells the story of
the last class to graduate from
that ancient structure, which was
more than half destroyed by fire
in the freshman year of the Class
of 1932. The series is something
more than that: It attempts to re-
capture what Delaware and life in
Delaware were like two genera-
tions and two high school build-
ings ago.
Yes, Frank B. Willis High
School, toward which we were
yearning for almost four years,
has itself been replaced by
Rutherford B. Hayes High School
--located, by the way, where Su-
perintendent R. D. Conrad had
wanted it in 1929.
Part of the story is painful be-
cause it circulates around the
struggles for a new building
which developed in the combined
disasters of fire and depression.
It is painful because it bears
on the lives of many citizens and
their families as they were caught
in the deprivations of the Great
Depression. But the pain was, as
always, mingled with joy and
even exuberance. Thus the story
is an archetype of human life.
Perhaps it may help bridge the
chasm which now exists between
the present crop of high school
students and their grandparents.
A few items I have kept in dis-
creet silence. Delaware is still a
small town; and, although there
are many features of small town
life I cherish, long gossipy small-
minded memories are not one of
them. The closet for our skele-
tons is not large, but neither is it
empty.
My sources are, simply: my
own memories and those of
some of my classmates, the four
Yearbooks, and the files of the
Delaware Daily Gazette. I am es-
pecially grateful for the coopera-
tion of the Delaware County Dis-
trict Public Library, the Delaware
County Historical Society, and
the editors of The Gazette.
I was given permission to use
issues of runs in the Gazette files
that were not available anywhere
else. Many of those file copies --
the more recent ones (because
of the quality of the paper) -- are
on the verge of disintegration. In
a few years the fragile pages I so
gently turned will no longer be in
existence anywhere in the world.
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 3)
Description
[page 3]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 3 of Delaware High School]
INTRODUCTION
"Nothing Much Happens in Delaware"
Most of the members of the Class of 1932 of Delaware High School,
newly Frank B. Willis High School, grew up in this town. Thus most of us
understood the element of truth in the old saying, "Nothing much happens in
Delaware." The rest of the world may seem to be rushing to a magnificent
future--or to the dogs. But this town placidly goes along, or just stays
put. It seemed to me during our years in high school.
Way off there important things were happening: a Kellogg-Briand Peace
Pact, Black Friday on the stock market, Gandhi and civil disobedience in
India, Japanese attack on China, Nazi victory in the German Reichstag. But
nothing much was happening in Delaware. Although some reports of these great
doings were made in the Delaware Daily Gazette, you read that newspaper mainly
to find out about local squabbles, sports, fires, who was in jail, who had
died, or just the "funny paper."
Nothing much happened in Delaware--except on 30 March 1928. That
year's great event was not the appearance of a new high school class, but
the sudden and shocking death of Senator Frank B. Willis, a home town boy
whom many knew personally, on the verge of his campaign for the presidency
of the United States. It happened right in Ohio Wesleyan's Gray Chapel as
thousands waited excitedly for the GO signal. There had been a colorful and
noisy torchlight parade which the Gazette termed a "gigantic Willis-for-Presi-
dent parade, . . . one of the greatest events ever recorded in Delaware's
history" [Gazette, 27 March 1928]. The C.D.&M. (Columbus, Delaware and Marion
Interurban Electric Line), ran eight special cars.
And then, while someone was speaking, the senator left the stage "for
some fresh air"--and died in the hallway at 9:09 PM, telling his secretary,
Charles A. Jones, "I never felt like this in my life. Something is very
wrong." A cerebral hemmorhage. It was the secretary who returned to the
stage, informed the audience that the senator was ill, and asked them
quietly to go home. Except for a half-hearted effort to "stop Hoover," that
was the end of that.
Ordinarily, however, the illusion of inactivity in this town remained
pervasive, born of complacency and a conservative desire to keep things the
way they are. Delaware does not produce many boat-rockers. As a result
great events which take place elsewhere seem to have little immediate
effect. Take this environment and add the natural disinterest of
adoslescents in the maneuverings of the adult world, and you can understand
why Great Events were little noted, concerned as we were chiefly with
classes and school sports, to say nothing of girls--and boys.
In retirement I decided it might be instructive to revisit Delaware
High School, 1928-1932, to find out what really had been going on. That led
me to the title, Delaware High SChool Redivivus, which I knew would please
Mrs. Crist (Herrick) and Miss Shults, our Latin teachers. I have tried to
[corresponds to unlabeled page 3 of Delaware High School]
INTRODUCTION
"Nothing Much Happens in Delaware"
Most of the members of the Class of 1932 of Delaware High School,
newly Frank B. Willis High School, grew up in this town. Thus most of us
understood the element of truth in the old saying, "Nothing much happens in
Delaware." The rest of the world may seem to be rushing to a magnificent
future--or to the dogs. But this town placidly goes along, or just stays
put. It seemed to me during our years in high school.
Way off there important things were happening: a Kellogg-Briand Peace
Pact, Black Friday on the stock market, Gandhi and civil disobedience in
India, Japanese attack on China, Nazi victory in the German Reichstag. But
nothing much was happening in Delaware. Although some reports of these great
doings were made in the Delaware Daily Gazette, you read that newspaper mainly
to find out about local squabbles, sports, fires, who was in jail, who had
died, or just the "funny paper."
Nothing much happened in Delaware--except on 30 March 1928. That
year's great event was not the appearance of a new high school class, but
the sudden and shocking death of Senator Frank B. Willis, a home town boy
whom many knew personally, on the verge of his campaign for the presidency
of the United States. It happened right in Ohio Wesleyan's Gray Chapel as
thousands waited excitedly for the GO signal. There had been a colorful and
noisy torchlight parade which the Gazette termed a "gigantic Willis-for-Presi-
dent parade, . . . one of the greatest events ever recorded in Delaware's
history" [Gazette, 27 March 1928]. The C.D.&M. (Columbus, Delaware and Marion
Interurban Electric Line), ran eight special cars.
And then, while someone was speaking, the senator left the stage "for
some fresh air"--and died in the hallway at 9:09 PM, telling his secretary,
Charles A. Jones, "I never felt like this in my life. Something is very
wrong." A cerebral hemmorhage. It was the secretary who returned to the
stage, informed the audience that the senator was ill, and asked them
quietly to go home. Except for a half-hearted effort to "stop Hoover," that
was the end of that.
Ordinarily, however, the illusion of inactivity in this town remained
pervasive, born of complacency and a conservative desire to keep things the
way they are. Delaware does not produce many boat-rockers. As a result
great events which take place elsewhere seem to have little immediate
effect. Take this environment and add the natural disinterest of
adoslescents in the maneuverings of the adult world, and you can understand
why Great Events were little noted, concerned as we were chiefly with
classes and school sports, to say nothing of girls--and boys.
In retirement I decided it might be instructive to revisit Delaware
High School, 1928-1932, to find out what really had been going on. That led
me to the title, Delaware High SChool Redivivus, which I knew would please
Mrs. Crist (Herrick) and Miss Shults, our Latin teachers. I have tried to
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 4)
Description
[page 4]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 4 of Delaware High School]
relocate our history in the larger context of our changing world, to focus
on what was happening in Delaware during those difficult years, and to
concentrate on our own history as recaptured from memory, the yearbooks,
and especially from the voluminous files of the Gazette and the "Weekly
Delhi Echo" which appeared in it on Saturdays.
You can go back and relive it. But it wasn't really the way it seemed.
Or is it the other way around?
The Wide Wide World
If a kid in Delaware in the 1920s wanted to see the "wide, wide world"
(like Bunky the Monkey on the children's record), all he or she had to do
was take the C. D. & M. interurban electric line from the station on the
corner of Sandusky and William. One way ran south across the high
viaduct twenty-three miles to Columbus. The other way ran twenty-five miles
across farm land via Prospect to Marion. Beyond these destinations (plus
now and then more exotic travels to Buckeye Lake or Magnetic Springs), what
else was there to see? Members of our class will remember fondly the sleek,
speedy electric cars, one of them a "parlor car" with revolving seats. Is
it a mark of progress that the C. D. & M. no longer exists except as
scattered abandoned right-of-way, one of the many victims of the Great
Depression?
More local transportation for Delaware itself was provided by the
Delaware Electric Street Railway Company, which ran "dinkies" along four
routes. These small four-wheel, long-overhang cars, which careened over
brick-paved streets, must have been modeled after the venerable comic
strip, "Toonerville Trolley." One route ran up Sandusky Street, west on
Lincoln to Campbell, down past Monnett campus to William Street. Another
served the south side via University, Liberty, and back along South
Sandusky. An eastern route crossed the Olentangy River and ran along Lake
Street. A fourth spur went west on William to meet the Hocking Valley
Railroad and, for a while, to connect with another interurban to Magnetic
Springs. My memory says they were yellow. But, before the age of color
photography, color has a way of disappearing from history. Is it a mark of
progress that Delaware in the 1980s has no provision for public trans-
portation whatsoever? At this point Mrs. Crist breaks in with "O tempora!
O mores!."
The significance of all this is that Delawareans could see the wide,
wide world without any trouble at all. It was only more restricted. The little
street cars were already gone when the Class of 1932 entered high school. The
C. D. & M. lingered until it was finally done in by the Great Depression in
1933. We could go up to Marion in our first year to see what effect the new
local "blue laws" were having on Sunday movies or to attend the trial of
the theater manager. We could ride down to Columbus for what seemed to us
big city life, the state fair, or the amusement park. What else was there?
Well, there was radio. The sounds came into the squawking boxes from
somewhere outside, placed like KDKA in Pittsburgh. What would we have done
without Fibber McGee and Molly, Amos 'n Andy, Billy Jones and Ernie Hare,
". . . . ." [can you finish the line?] Sports came over radio and stretched
[corresponds to unlabeled page 4 of Delaware High School]
relocate our history in the larger context of our changing world, to focus
on what was happening in Delaware during those difficult years, and to
concentrate on our own history as recaptured from memory, the yearbooks,
and especially from the voluminous files of the Gazette and the "Weekly
Delhi Echo" which appeared in it on Saturdays.
You can go back and relive it. But it wasn't really the way it seemed.
Or is it the other way around?
The Wide Wide World
If a kid in Delaware in the 1920s wanted to see the "wide, wide world"
(like Bunky the Monkey on the children's record), all he or she had to do
was take the C. D. & M. interurban electric line from the station on the
corner of Sandusky and William. One way ran south across the high
viaduct twenty-three miles to Columbus. The other way ran twenty-five miles
across farm land via Prospect to Marion. Beyond these destinations (plus
now and then more exotic travels to Buckeye Lake or Magnetic Springs), what
else was there to see? Members of our class will remember fondly the sleek,
speedy electric cars, one of them a "parlor car" with revolving seats. Is
it a mark of progress that the C. D. & M. no longer exists except as
scattered abandoned right-of-way, one of the many victims of the Great
Depression?
More local transportation for Delaware itself was provided by the
Delaware Electric Street Railway Company, which ran "dinkies" along four
routes. These small four-wheel, long-overhang cars, which careened over
brick-paved streets, must have been modeled after the venerable comic
strip, "Toonerville Trolley." One route ran up Sandusky Street, west on
Lincoln to Campbell, down past Monnett campus to William Street. Another
served the south side via University, Liberty, and back along South
Sandusky. An eastern route crossed the Olentangy River and ran along Lake
Street. A fourth spur went west on William to meet the Hocking Valley
Railroad and, for a while, to connect with another interurban to Magnetic
Springs. My memory says they were yellow. But, before the age of color
photography, color has a way of disappearing from history. Is it a mark of
progress that Delaware in the 1980s has no provision for public trans-
portation whatsoever? At this point Mrs. Crist breaks in with "O tempora!
O mores!."
The significance of all this is that Delawareans could see the wide,
wide world without any trouble at all. It was only more restricted. The little
street cars were already gone when the Class of 1932 entered high school. The
C. D. & M. lingered until it was finally done in by the Great Depression in
1933. We could go up to Marion in our first year to see what effect the new
local "blue laws" were having on Sunday movies or to attend the trial of
the theater manager. We could ride down to Columbus for what seemed to us
big city life, the state fair, or the amusement park. What else was there?
Well, there was radio. The sounds came into the squawking boxes from
somewhere outside, placed like KDKA in Pittsburgh. What would we have done
without Fibber McGee and Molly, Amos 'n Andy, Billy Jones and Ernie Hare,
". . . . ." [can you finish the line?] Sports came over radio and stretched
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 5)
Description
[page 5]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 5 of Delaware High School]
our horizons a bit farther, to include Red Grange, Knute Rockne, Bobby
Jones, Helen Wills, Babe Ruth, and Jack Dempsey. The more intellectual made
room for cultural leaders like Walter Damrosch, Paul Whiteman, Will Robers,
and Major Bowes. This is to say nothing of the Goldbergs and the Rudy Vallee
Show. Who would dare accuse the Class of 1932 of being provincial?
A Few Inconsequential Events
I suppose our parents paid attention to some other news. Our teachers
certainly did, as from time to time they strove to impress on our spongy
and slippery minds the importance of these not very real events. Mr.
Hoover did not become President of the United States until we were well
into our freshman year. The banner headline of the Delaware Daily Gazette
for 19 October 1928 reported "Coolidge Stresses Prosperity in Speech
Today." We were no more excited by the stock market report a month later
that the bulls were "exultant" and the bears "begged for mercy." We had no
idea of what lay ahead as we learned in December that one half of one per
cent were paying something called an "income tax."
By the time we graduated the message had come home clearly, that some
of those far-off unreal events could have some very real local effects.
Some banks right on Sandusky Street closed for good, our meager savings
still lost somewhere inside. "Going out of business" sales visibly changed
the appearance of the familiar business district--along with the razing of
the Rutherford B. Hayes birthplace and the city hall fire.
There were even more distant rumblings, though adults and students
alike paid little attention. As we began high school Werner Heisenberg had
just knocked the underpinnings from under traditional physics (the kind we
were taught) with his Uncertainty Principle, adding another complexity to
the already confusing world of Einstein's Theory of Relativity. In 1930
Gandhi began his campaign of civil disobedience in India, which in a few
years would bring into being the second most populous nation in the world.
In 1931 Japan attacked China in the beginning of a greater Rising Sun. In
1932 the Nazis won control of the German Reichstag. We were already out of
school when Mao Tse Tung led his rag-tag army on their "Long March." In
act, we were already out when Franklin Delano Roosevelt began the series
of moves that would change life in America forever. When we graduated in
1932, the citizens of Delaware, their children, and the rest of the United
States and most of the world, were tumbling deep into the heart of the
Great Depression.
Indeed, very dark clouds were swirling around us all through those
four years. But not all was gloomy. Wiley Post and Harold Gatty flew clear
around the world in 1931 in only eight and a half days. Partly because of
the unsettling principles of Einstein and Heisenberg, deep research was
leading to discoveries about atoms and molecules, bacteria and viruses, and
the whole universe. There was good news. But many of those clouds were
ominous indeed. The freshmen of 1928-29 paid little attention. Much more
important was the whirl of school life--and presently, in the spring of
1929, the shock of the fire that destroyed our school building. We waited
four years to enter a new one. Now that--that--was something important.
[corresponds to unlabeled page 5 of Delaware High School]
our horizons a bit farther, to include Red Grange, Knute Rockne, Bobby
Jones, Helen Wills, Babe Ruth, and Jack Dempsey. The more intellectual made
room for cultural leaders like Walter Damrosch, Paul Whiteman, Will Robers,
and Major Bowes. This is to say nothing of the Goldbergs and the Rudy Vallee
Show. Who would dare accuse the Class of 1932 of being provincial?
A Few Inconsequential Events
I suppose our parents paid attention to some other news. Our teachers
certainly did, as from time to time they strove to impress on our spongy
and slippery minds the importance of these not very real events. Mr.
Hoover did not become President of the United States until we were well
into our freshman year. The banner headline of the Delaware Daily Gazette
for 19 October 1928 reported "Coolidge Stresses Prosperity in Speech
Today." We were no more excited by the stock market report a month later
that the bulls were "exultant" and the bears "begged for mercy." We had no
idea of what lay ahead as we learned in December that one half of one per
cent were paying something called an "income tax."
By the time we graduated the message had come home clearly, that some
of those far-off unreal events could have some very real local effects.
Some banks right on Sandusky Street closed for good, our meager savings
still lost somewhere inside. "Going out of business" sales visibly changed
the appearance of the familiar business district--along with the razing of
the Rutherford B. Hayes birthplace and the city hall fire.
There were even more distant rumblings, though adults and students
alike paid little attention. As we began high school Werner Heisenberg had
just knocked the underpinnings from under traditional physics (the kind we
were taught) with his Uncertainty Principle, adding another complexity to
the already confusing world of Einstein's Theory of Relativity. In 1930
Gandhi began his campaign of civil disobedience in India, which in a few
years would bring into being the second most populous nation in the world.
In 1931 Japan attacked China in the beginning of a greater Rising Sun. In
1932 the Nazis won control of the German Reichstag. We were already out of
school when Mao Tse Tung led his rag-tag army on their "Long March." In
act, we were already out when Franklin Delano Roosevelt began the series
of moves that would change life in America forever. When we graduated in
1932, the citizens of Delaware, their children, and the rest of the United
States and most of the world, were tumbling deep into the heart of the
Great Depression.
Indeed, very dark clouds were swirling around us all through those
four years. But not all was gloomy. Wiley Post and Harold Gatty flew clear
around the world in 1931 in only eight and a half days. Partly because of
the unsettling principles of Einstein and Heisenberg, deep research was
leading to discoveries about atoms and molecules, bacteria and viruses, and
the whole universe. There was good news. But many of those clouds were
ominous indeed. The freshmen of 1928-29 paid little attention. Much more
important was the whirl of school life--and presently, in the spring of
1929, the shock of the fire that destroyed our school building. We waited
four years to enter a new one. Now that--that--was something important.
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 6)
Description
[page 6]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 6 of Delaware High School]
Chapter 1: On the Bottom
Runs, 1928-1929
How the Town Looked That
Year
Delaware always revived after
the summer coma. By the time
Ohio Wesleyan students re-
turned, the city schools were al-
ready vibrating. The old brick
building on Winter Street, sand-
wiched between the Episcopal
and Presbyterian churches, be-
came a second home for the
Class of 1932, fresh from grade
school without any transitional
adjustment via junior high.
Some of us were uneasy.
Scared is another word for the
way we felt as we moved from
the cozier environment of one
room and one teacher in a rela-
tively modest building to this
great hulk of red brick, where,
though we still had a "home
room," we were sent scurrying by
clanging bell from English room
to math room to history room to
typing room to manual training or
(not and) home economics, study
hall, after school clubs, and
sports.
No wonder these new entering
freshmen had no time or thought
for anything else! Yet this was the
year Edmund D. Soper became
president of Ohio Wesleyan Uni-
versity (inaugurated February
15, 1929), and Herbert Hoover
was inaugurated on 4 March for a
term concurrent with our high
school career.
We may have heard our par-
ents talking about the increasing
importance of the automobile.
Some of us even had a family car
--though few, if any, students
even dreamed of owning one
themselves. Maybe we thought
about buying one of those sleek
Nashes sold by Oller Brothers, or
the neat Whippet coaches of-
fered by Armstrong Sales and
Service. A sign of the times was
the increase in speed limit on
country roads to 45 miles per
hour, to go into effect in July,
1929. Six other states had al-
ready taken this progressive ac-
tion, plus three others which had
no limit at all.
Delaware was accused of be-
ing a speed trap. The Columbus
and Marion auto clubs erected
warning signs on the highway
south and north of town about the
arresting habits of Delaware po-
lice on Sandusky Street, which
was the main urban bottleneck
between the two larger cities.
The local Chamber of Commerce
vigorously denied the charge,
and induced the auto clubs to re-
move the signs.
Another sign of the times was
the arrest by Sheriff Main of two
men on May 21, who were
caught with four gallons of
whiskey on a road near Stratford.
Although Delaware was an al-
most unassailable bastion of tee-
totalism, the W.C.T.U., and the
Anti-Saloon League, the forces
of Demon Rum managed now
and then to sneak in. The
Gazette dutifully reported cases
of citizens who thought the Prohi-
bition Amendment did not apply
to them. By this time a sizable
number thought so, even in
Delaware.
Except for the trauma of Sen-
ator Willis' death, however, it was
a relatively quiet year -- until the
middle of March, that is. Cussins
& Fearn opened a new store at
86 N. Sandusky. Klein's had
dress shirts for one dollar. They
must have been pretty fancy.
Norman Thomas, durable So-
cialist Party candidate for presi-
dent, and E. Stanley Jones,
world-famous evangelist, gave
speeches in Gray Chapel.
Charles Lindburgh and Anne
Morrow were married and went
off on a secret honeymoon. The
Graf Zeppelin completed a
round-the-world flight.
School Life
In one respect the educational
atmosphere in Delaware was
normal: The three-person school
board was beleaguered. Dr. A. J.
Pounds, president, was, as usu-
al, adamant in fiscal and political
conservatism. He was unflag-
gingly supported by Mrs. Martha
Battenfield, a devoted volunteer
who was serving as secretary of
the board. Almost always found
voting as a minority of one was
the third member, Fred Vergon,
who believed that changes and
improvements were needed,
even at the cost of increased tax-
es.
Some citizens were calling for
the building of a new high school.
But Dr. Pounds said there was
not going to be any new school,
because "the citizens of
Delaware are not favorable to the
building of a new high school"
[Gazette, 3 February 1928].
Thereupon a local and vocal at-
torney, Francis M. Marriott, Kiwa-
nis Club president, let loose a
broadside. He said the high
school was no longer first class,
because of the "inefficiency and
thimble-mindedness of the ma-
jority members [of the board]."
They should either "gracefully re-
sign," or "become so ashamed of
their lassitude that they will make
amends for their two years of so-
porific inactivity" [Gazette, 21
February 1929].
The Superintendent, W. R.
Ash, was caught in the middle.
He recommended efforts to re-
lieve general crowding by provid-
ing more rooms, more teachers,
a two-session day plan, and ex-
clusion of non-resident pupils.
The high school library must be
"radically improved." He recog-
nized the problem of using text-
books of varying editions, sup-
ported raises for teachers, and
the employment of a full-time
school nurse. He was fired for his
pains by the usual vote, Vergon
alone supporting the superinten-
dent. R. D. Conrad was an-
nounced as the new administra-
tor, effective in June, 1928.
Another uproar -- all this be-
fore the freshmen began
their years -- arose over a
demonstration in mid-summer by
the recently graduated members
of the Glass of 1928 in front of
Dr. Pounds' William Street home.
The principal of the high school
was held responsible and fired,
even though there was no evi-
dence that he was in any way in-
volved or even knew of the plan.
T. M. Buck was elected the new
[corresponds to unlabeled page 6 of Delaware High School]
Chapter 1: On the Bottom
Runs, 1928-1929
How the Town Looked That
Year
Delaware always revived after
the summer coma. By the time
Ohio Wesleyan students re-
turned, the city schools were al-
ready vibrating. The old brick
building on Winter Street, sand-
wiched between the Episcopal
and Presbyterian churches, be-
came a second home for the
Class of 1932, fresh from grade
school without any transitional
adjustment via junior high.
Some of us were uneasy.
Scared is another word for the
way we felt as we moved from
the cozier environment of one
room and one teacher in a rela-
tively modest building to this
great hulk of red brick, where,
though we still had a "home
room," we were sent scurrying by
clanging bell from English room
to math room to history room to
typing room to manual training or
(not and) home economics, study
hall, after school clubs, and
sports.
No wonder these new entering
freshmen had no time or thought
for anything else! Yet this was the
year Edmund D. Soper became
president of Ohio Wesleyan Uni-
versity (inaugurated February
15, 1929), and Herbert Hoover
was inaugurated on 4 March for a
term concurrent with our high
school career.
We may have heard our par-
ents talking about the increasing
importance of the automobile.
Some of us even had a family car
--though few, if any, students
even dreamed of owning one
themselves. Maybe we thought
about buying one of those sleek
Nashes sold by Oller Brothers, or
the neat Whippet coaches of-
fered by Armstrong Sales and
Service. A sign of the times was
the increase in speed limit on
country roads to 45 miles per
hour, to go into effect in July,
1929. Six other states had al-
ready taken this progressive ac-
tion, plus three others which had
no limit at all.
Delaware was accused of be-
ing a speed trap. The Columbus
and Marion auto clubs erected
warning signs on the highway
south and north of town about the
arresting habits of Delaware po-
lice on Sandusky Street, which
was the main urban bottleneck
between the two larger cities.
The local Chamber of Commerce
vigorously denied the charge,
and induced the auto clubs to re-
move the signs.
Another sign of the times was
the arrest by Sheriff Main of two
men on May 21, who were
caught with four gallons of
whiskey on a road near Stratford.
Although Delaware was an al-
most unassailable bastion of tee-
totalism, the W.C.T.U., and the
Anti-Saloon League, the forces
of Demon Rum managed now
and then to sneak in. The
Gazette dutifully reported cases
of citizens who thought the Prohi-
bition Amendment did not apply
to them. By this time a sizable
number thought so, even in
Delaware.
Except for the trauma of Sen-
ator Willis' death, however, it was
a relatively quiet year -- until the
middle of March, that is. Cussins
& Fearn opened a new store at
86 N. Sandusky. Klein's had
dress shirts for one dollar. They
must have been pretty fancy.
Norman Thomas, durable So-
cialist Party candidate for presi-
dent, and E. Stanley Jones,
world-famous evangelist, gave
speeches in Gray Chapel.
Charles Lindburgh and Anne
Morrow were married and went
off on a secret honeymoon. The
Graf Zeppelin completed a
round-the-world flight.
School Life
In one respect the educational
atmosphere in Delaware was
normal: The three-person school
board was beleaguered. Dr. A. J.
Pounds, president, was, as usu-
al, adamant in fiscal and political
conservatism. He was unflag-
gingly supported by Mrs. Martha
Battenfield, a devoted volunteer
who was serving as secretary of
the board. Almost always found
voting as a minority of one was
the third member, Fred Vergon,
who believed that changes and
improvements were needed,
even at the cost of increased tax-
es.
Some citizens were calling for
the building of a new high school.
But Dr. Pounds said there was
not going to be any new school,
because "the citizens of
Delaware are not favorable to the
building of a new high school"
[Gazette, 3 February 1928].
Thereupon a local and vocal at-
torney, Francis M. Marriott, Kiwa-
nis Club president, let loose a
broadside. He said the high
school was no longer first class,
because of the "inefficiency and
thimble-mindedness of the ma-
jority members [of the board]."
They should either "gracefully re-
sign," or "become so ashamed of
their lassitude that they will make
amends for their two years of so-
porific inactivity" [Gazette, 21
February 1929].
The Superintendent, W. R.
Ash, was caught in the middle.
He recommended efforts to re-
lieve general crowding by provid-
ing more rooms, more teachers,
a two-session day plan, and ex-
clusion of non-resident pupils.
The high school library must be
"radically improved." He recog-
nized the problem of using text-
books of varying editions, sup-
ported raises for teachers, and
the employment of a full-time
school nurse. He was fired for his
pains by the usual vote, Vergon
alone supporting the superinten-
dent. R. D. Conrad was an-
nounced as the new administra-
tor, effective in June, 1928.
Another uproar -- all this be-
fore the freshmen began
their years -- arose over a
demonstration in mid-summer by
the recently graduated members
of the Glass of 1928 in front of
Dr. Pounds' William Street home.
The principal of the high school
was held responsible and fired,
even though there was no evi-
dence that he was in any way in-
volved or even knew of the plan.
T. M. Buck was elected the new
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 7)
Description
[page 7]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 7 of Delaware High School]
principal. A letter of protest
against this alleged injustice,
signed by Guy Anderson, Mrs. B.
T. Cartmell, and Francis M. Mar-
riott, was printed in the Gazette
[4 August 1928], to no avail.
If all this could take place in
placid Delaware in the doldrums
of summer, how did that saying,
"Nothing much happens in
Delaware," get started? Maybe it
only seemed that way.
These doings of the grown-
ups had little impact on entering
freshmen. Even the defeat in
November of a 2-mill school levy,
blamed on lack of confidence in
the school board, was not at the
forefront of student minds. Much
more important was the new plan
for Delaware High School to en-
ter the Tecumseh League for
football. It then consisted of
Marysville, London, Urbana, and
Bellefontaine. Exciting also was
the victory of the basketball
squad over Granville, 26-24, in
early February. Turley, Burch,
Knight, Myers, Burnstead, Oller,
Ketterling, Platz, and Gallant be-
came heroes overnight.
If the seniors during our first
year appeared high and lifted up,
the reason is, they were. The
class officers were outstanding:
President Cecil Jones, Vice Pres-
ident Herbert Whitacre, Secretary
Mary Ludman, and Treasurer
Corinne Timmons. The Dramatic
Club was graced for four years
by Lois Brower, who was presi-
dent during our first year. Also
active for four years were Alberta
McFadden, Cecil Jones, Herb
Whitacre, and Vernon Willis.
President of Hi-Y was Myron
Dixon, who was active also in
dramatics and debate. Participat-
ing in almost everything was Al-
berta McFadden, president of the
Girl Reserves. Musically inclined
was Gwendolyn Sautter, presi-
dent of the Glee Club and pianist
for the Freshman Girls' Glee
Club.
All-Around sports figures were
Vernon Willis and Arthur Bum-
stead. Hallie Cunningham
adorned the 1929 Yearbook with
pen and ink drawings. One of the
most impressive achievements
was marked by the debate teams
(affirmative Leo Stone, Myron
Dixon, John Moist, and negative
Elmer McFadden, Alberta Mc-
Fadden, and Cecil Jones). Even
when Jones fainted in a debate
with Galion, the two McFaddens
carried on to another victory.
In early February the freshman
class elected its officers: Presi-
dent Marion Hubbart, Vice Presi-
dent Frederick Norwood, Secre-
tary Betty Ropp, Treasurer
Pauline Perley.
Freshman girls were also ac-
tive in music. A new Freshman
Girls' Glee Club grew quite large,
led by President Helen Laird,
Secretary Violet Knight, and Li-
brarian Margaret Anne Freshwa-
ter.
Now that I think of it, there
were indeed innovations pro-
duced by our class. In March
[Gazette 16 March] a new publi-
cation was reported. "A Dog's
Life," which had been circulating
around school. Edited by Robert
Newcomb, though staffed by up-
per class students, this publica-
tion, whatever else it accom-
plished, stimulated the organiza-
tion under school sponsorship of
a Reporters' Club, whose mem-
bers could share in writing re-
ports on school life for the Satur-
day edition of the Gazette. Annie
F. Kellogg was desginated super-
visor of the new project. Need-
less to say, "A Dog's Life" had no
supervisor. The "Dog," however,
did not expire. In April it was still
going around under the title "La
vie d'un chien," edited by New-
comb, Abbott (Bill) Rice, and
Elmer McFadden. A more
durable product was the "Weekly
Delhi Echo," which continued to
appear regularly in the Saturday
Gazette. Without it this history
could not have been written in
such rich colors.
The lowly freshmen were mak-
ing their presence felt, even
though they were not able to en-
ter very far into the student power
structure. Most organizations
were dominated by upper-class
leaders. Nevertheless, the "April
Showers" tea given by the Girl
Reserves in the Presbyterian
Church featured a string quartet
composed of Judy Ziegler, Ruth
and Barbara LeBaron, and Mari-
on Hubbart. This event had origi-
nally been set as a "St. Patrick's"
tea at school. The change of
name and place gives evidence
of the disruptive effects of the
great fire. The Hi-Y elected offi-
cers in April: President Bill Rice,
Vice-President Paul Gardner,
Secretary Herbert Soper, and
Treasurer Fred Herr. The fire also
explains the location of the May
band concert, directed by Vayne
Galliday at St. Mary's Parochial
School, the senior high play, "A
Lucky Break," directed by Ber-
nice Moran before 1,000 people
in Gray Chapel, and the senior
chapel in Sanborn Hall of Ohio
Wesleyan.
But freshmen shone in May as
they won a debate with the
sophomores on the issue, "Re-
solved, that the jury system
should be abolished." The team
was Polly Perley, Betty Higley,
Margaret Anne Freshwater, and
Sherman Moist as alternate.
There was even a freshman on
the new girls' basketball team,
Betty Ropp, who was the only
one to persevere through the
whole year.
Then came senior commence-
ment in Gray Chapel. Judge Flo-
rence Allen addressed the 95
graduates. Then the year was all
over, the freshmen rose a notch,
and had a class to look down on
the following year.
The Great Fire
Of course the entire flow of
school life was totally disrupted
by the firey event of 14 March,
when more than half of the old,
already inadequate high school
was destroyed, and much of the
rest, the surviving north wing,
was water-damaged. All the stu-
dents knew that at least this great
event in the history of Delaware
had an immediate and devastat-
ing effect on them. They would
live with this sobering knowledge
for the rest of their high school
years.
The weather was almost
spring-like the middle of that
March. When on a Thursday the
[corresponds to unlabeled page 7 of Delaware High School]
principal. A letter of protest
against this alleged injustice,
signed by Guy Anderson, Mrs. B.
T. Cartmell, and Francis M. Mar-
riott, was printed in the Gazette
[4 August 1928], to no avail.
If all this could take place in
placid Delaware in the doldrums
of summer, how did that saying,
"Nothing much happens in
Delaware," get started? Maybe it
only seemed that way.
These doings of the grown-
ups had little impact on entering
freshmen. Even the defeat in
November of a 2-mill school levy,
blamed on lack of confidence in
the school board, was not at the
forefront of student minds. Much
more important was the new plan
for Delaware High School to en-
ter the Tecumseh League for
football. It then consisted of
Marysville, London, Urbana, and
Bellefontaine. Exciting also was
the victory of the basketball
squad over Granville, 26-24, in
early February. Turley, Burch,
Knight, Myers, Burnstead, Oller,
Ketterling, Platz, and Gallant be-
came heroes overnight.
If the seniors during our first
year appeared high and lifted up,
the reason is, they were. The
class officers were outstanding:
President Cecil Jones, Vice Pres-
ident Herbert Whitacre, Secretary
Mary Ludman, and Treasurer
Corinne Timmons. The Dramatic
Club was graced for four years
by Lois Brower, who was presi-
dent during our first year. Also
active for four years were Alberta
McFadden, Cecil Jones, Herb
Whitacre, and Vernon Willis.
President of Hi-Y was Myron
Dixon, who was active also in
dramatics and debate. Participat-
ing in almost everything was Al-
berta McFadden, president of the
Girl Reserves. Musically inclined
was Gwendolyn Sautter, presi-
dent of the Glee Club and pianist
for the Freshman Girls' Glee
Club.
All-Around sports figures were
Vernon Willis and Arthur Bum-
stead. Hallie Cunningham
adorned the 1929 Yearbook with
pen and ink drawings. One of the
most impressive achievements
was marked by the debate teams
(affirmative Leo Stone, Myron
Dixon, John Moist, and negative
Elmer McFadden, Alberta Mc-
Fadden, and Cecil Jones). Even
when Jones fainted in a debate
with Galion, the two McFaddens
carried on to another victory.
In early February the freshman
class elected its officers: Presi-
dent Marion Hubbart, Vice Presi-
dent Frederick Norwood, Secre-
tary Betty Ropp, Treasurer
Pauline Perley.
Freshman girls were also ac-
tive in music. A new Freshman
Girls' Glee Club grew quite large,
led by President Helen Laird,
Secretary Violet Knight, and Li-
brarian Margaret Anne Freshwa-
ter.
Now that I think of it, there
were indeed innovations pro-
duced by our class. In March
[Gazette 16 March] a new publi-
cation was reported. "A Dog's
Life," which had been circulating
around school. Edited by Robert
Newcomb, though staffed by up-
per class students, this publica-
tion, whatever else it accom-
plished, stimulated the organiza-
tion under school sponsorship of
a Reporters' Club, whose mem-
bers could share in writing re-
ports on school life for the Satur-
day edition of the Gazette. Annie
F. Kellogg was desginated super-
visor of the new project. Need-
less to say, "A Dog's Life" had no
supervisor. The "Dog," however,
did not expire. In April it was still
going around under the title "La
vie d'un chien," edited by New-
comb, Abbott (Bill) Rice, and
Elmer McFadden. A more
durable product was the "Weekly
Delhi Echo," which continued to
appear regularly in the Saturday
Gazette. Without it this history
could not have been written in
such rich colors.
The lowly freshmen were mak-
ing their presence felt, even
though they were not able to en-
ter very far into the student power
structure. Most organizations
were dominated by upper-class
leaders. Nevertheless, the "April
Showers" tea given by the Girl
Reserves in the Presbyterian
Church featured a string quartet
composed of Judy Ziegler, Ruth
and Barbara LeBaron, and Mari-
on Hubbart. This event had origi-
nally been set as a "St. Patrick's"
tea at school. The change of
name and place gives evidence
of the disruptive effects of the
great fire. The Hi-Y elected offi-
cers in April: President Bill Rice,
Vice-President Paul Gardner,
Secretary Herbert Soper, and
Treasurer Fred Herr. The fire also
explains the location of the May
band concert, directed by Vayne
Galliday at St. Mary's Parochial
School, the senior high play, "A
Lucky Break," directed by Ber-
nice Moran before 1,000 people
in Gray Chapel, and the senior
chapel in Sanborn Hall of Ohio
Wesleyan.
But freshmen shone in May as
they won a debate with the
sophomores on the issue, "Re-
solved, that the jury system
should be abolished." The team
was Polly Perley, Betty Higley,
Margaret Anne Freshwater, and
Sherman Moist as alternate.
There was even a freshman on
the new girls' basketball team,
Betty Ropp, who was the only
one to persevere through the
whole year.
Then came senior commence-
ment in Gray Chapel. Judge Flo-
rence Allen addressed the 95
graduates. Then the year was all
over, the freshmen rose a notch,
and had a class to look down on
the following year.
The Great Fire
Of course the entire flow of
school life was totally disrupted
by the firey event of 14 March,
when more than half of the old,
already inadequate high school
was destroyed, and much of the
rest, the surviving north wing,
was water-damaged. All the stu-
dents knew that at least this great
event in the history of Delaware
had an immediate and devastat-
ing effect on them. They would
live with this sobering knowledge
for the rest of their high school
years.
The weather was almost
spring-like the middle of that
March. When on a Thursday the
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 8)
Description
[page 8]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 8 of Delaware High School]
old brick building fronting on Win-
ter Street began to belch smoke
and flames, it was a fine specta-
tor sport as firemen struggled for
over two hours in the evening to
bring the conflagration under
control. The emotions of high
schoolers were mixed. As chil-
dren they exulted in the superb
spectacle: The school is burning
down! As aspiring graduates,
they shuddered: How can I get a
diploma for my life's work?
It was exciting for a while to
enjoy an impressive show, to
watch firemen and police rushing
about, to stand with the crowd
across the street, to see the
bursts of flame from the rear
parts and smell the billows of
smoke which rose high in the
evening sky. Soon, however, a
sobering reaction set in, especial-
ly the morning after. Some stu-
dents who had eluded authorities
brought out sodden charred
lumps from their desks -- what
was left of their cherished-hated
school books. A little later,
through a smart action by Super-
intendent Conrad, all remnants
from desks in home rooms and
study hall were gathered in indi-
vidual bags with student names.
Thus was brought home to our
excited consciousness the mess
we were in.
That week's "Delaware High
School Notes" (not yet "Weekly
Delhi Echo") in the Gazette be-
gan with a rather somber para-
graph:
"As students of Delaware High
School we feel sudden collapse
of the old school life. No longer
are the study halls and the home
room assemblies. We carry on
our program much in the same
old spirit, but we are crowded; so
crowded that some activities
must be temporarily discontin-
ued. This is unfortunate, but we
wait, hoping and believing that a
new school will be forthcoming,
with plenty of room and equip-
ment, safe and beautiful. We can
carry on in the old building, but
not for long. Delaware High
School is a growing organization,
one of the most important in the
city, but it is not self-supporting. It
must be supported by the taxpay-
ers. A new building will cost mon-
ey, but it will be worth all it may
cost. It will be a common meeting
place for the community,
where we can work and play to-
gether, can learn to be useful citi-
zens, can learn to live.
Adolescents are resilient. The
extraordinarily long report went to
announce that classes in chem-
istry and physics would resume
Monday in temporary quarters in
the ground floor at West Elemen-
tary School a few blocks out Win-
ter Street. We did not know that
those "temporary" facilities would
be used for the next four years.
Only four days after the fire,
on Monday, when classes more
or less resumed, the annual ath-
letic banquet, held in Bun's Colo-
nial Room, honored the football
team and boys' and girls' basket-
ball teams, with speeches by ev-
eryone from Professor Ben Arne-
son and Coach Mac Barr to Mrs.
Battenfield and Superintendent
Conrad. Forty had signed up with
Coach Fred Neff for the new
track program. The Aeroplane
Club, local chapter of the Aero-
plane Model League of America,
went on as if nothing had hap-
pened under the direction of Mr.
Preston.
Yet throughout there was sad-
ness, "The condition of our library
is extremely altered...The books,
partially burned and water-
soaked, are piled in Room 22."
Usable volumes will be placed on
new shelves in the sewing room
on the third floor of the surviving
north wing and that will become
the new library. Damaged vol-
umes will be repaired if possible.
Books will circulate as early as
next week.
As school officials and state
fire marshals and engineers as-
sessed the damage, it was clear
that a fire door and partition had
limited direct fire damage to the
south wing. The north wing was
intact, but it had suffered from
much smoke and water damage.
The state fire inspectors left no
room for complacency. The
whole building, including the
north wing, was a "fire trap," with-
out any fire escapes even from
the vulnerable third floor. They
tartly reminded the board and
school administrators that the
need for fire escapes had been
urged before, but nothing had
been done.
The auditorium and study hall,
classrooms, laboratories, and the
superintendent's office had all
been lost.
Gradually the pieces of sec-
ondary education were patched
together. Some classes resumed
in the week following the fire.
Principal T. M. Buck gave
instructions for study hall periods.
Students who lived close enough
should go home to study. The
rest should carry on study hall in
the basement of West School.
On the 21st a school assembly
was held at St. Mary's School.
The band missed only one prac-
tice session. But the junior class
play just barely made it. It had
been scheduled for the auditori-
um, the scenery was in place,
and the dress rehearsal per-
formed. Then suddenly--nothing
left. The fire preceded the first
performance by just a few hours.
"Mother Carey's Chickens" were
all burned up.
Then came the announce-
ment that the play would be given
after all on Tuesday evening, with
new scenery, in Ohio Wesleyan's
Sanborn Hall. And that's what
happened. The juniors--Wyford
Jones, Mary Jo Main, Genevieve
Ewers, Fred Herr, Wendell Hart-
ley among them--directed by Ber-
nice Moran, put on their show,
surrounded by whatever scenery
could be "whomped up" over the
weekend.
Then began a drawn-out, frus-
trating, discouraging story. It took
a bit of time for the process to get
under way, what with emergency
band-aid measures. Unbeliev-
ably, the first debate was over the
question of whether to try for a
new building at all. Both in and
out of the School Board argu-
ments were heard for making do
with what was left.
Then, when it became clear
that not much of anything was
left, the arguments swirled
around cost, method of financing,
authority to act, site, and other
controverted problems. The al-
[corresponds to unlabeled page 8 of Delaware High School]
old brick building fronting on Win-
ter Street began to belch smoke
and flames, it was a fine specta-
tor sport as firemen struggled for
over two hours in the evening to
bring the conflagration under
control. The emotions of high
schoolers were mixed. As chil-
dren they exulted in the superb
spectacle: The school is burning
down! As aspiring graduates,
they shuddered: How can I get a
diploma for my life's work?
It was exciting for a while to
enjoy an impressive show, to
watch firemen and police rushing
about, to stand with the crowd
across the street, to see the
bursts of flame from the rear
parts and smell the billows of
smoke which rose high in the
evening sky. Soon, however, a
sobering reaction set in, especial-
ly the morning after. Some stu-
dents who had eluded authorities
brought out sodden charred
lumps from their desks -- what
was left of their cherished-hated
school books. A little later,
through a smart action by Super-
intendent Conrad, all remnants
from desks in home rooms and
study hall were gathered in indi-
vidual bags with student names.
Thus was brought home to our
excited consciousness the mess
we were in.
That week's "Delaware High
School Notes" (not yet "Weekly
Delhi Echo") in the Gazette be-
gan with a rather somber para-
graph:
"As students of Delaware High
School we feel sudden collapse
of the old school life. No longer
are the study halls and the home
room assemblies. We carry on
our program much in the same
old spirit, but we are crowded; so
crowded that some activities
must be temporarily discontin-
ued. This is unfortunate, but we
wait, hoping and believing that a
new school will be forthcoming,
with plenty of room and equip-
ment, safe and beautiful. We can
carry on in the old building, but
not for long. Delaware High
School is a growing organization,
one of the most important in the
city, but it is not self-supporting. It
must be supported by the taxpay-
ers. A new building will cost mon-
ey, but it will be worth all it may
cost. It will be a common meeting
place for the community,
where we can work and play to-
gether, can learn to be useful citi-
zens, can learn to live.
Adolescents are resilient. The
extraordinarily long report went to
announce that classes in chem-
istry and physics would resume
Monday in temporary quarters in
the ground floor at West Elemen-
tary School a few blocks out Win-
ter Street. We did not know that
those "temporary" facilities would
be used for the next four years.
Only four days after the fire,
on Monday, when classes more
or less resumed, the annual ath-
letic banquet, held in Bun's Colo-
nial Room, honored the football
team and boys' and girls' basket-
ball teams, with speeches by ev-
eryone from Professor Ben Arne-
son and Coach Mac Barr to Mrs.
Battenfield and Superintendent
Conrad. Forty had signed up with
Coach Fred Neff for the new
track program. The Aeroplane
Club, local chapter of the Aero-
plane Model League of America,
went on as if nothing had hap-
pened under the direction of Mr.
Preston.
Yet throughout there was sad-
ness, "The condition of our library
is extremely altered...The books,
partially burned and water-
soaked, are piled in Room 22."
Usable volumes will be placed on
new shelves in the sewing room
on the third floor of the surviving
north wing and that will become
the new library. Damaged vol-
umes will be repaired if possible.
Books will circulate as early as
next week.
As school officials and state
fire marshals and engineers as-
sessed the damage, it was clear
that a fire door and partition had
limited direct fire damage to the
south wing. The north wing was
intact, but it had suffered from
much smoke and water damage.
The state fire inspectors left no
room for complacency. The
whole building, including the
north wing, was a "fire trap," with-
out any fire escapes even from
the vulnerable third floor. They
tartly reminded the board and
school administrators that the
need for fire escapes had been
urged before, but nothing had
been done.
The auditorium and study hall,
classrooms, laboratories, and the
superintendent's office had all
been lost.
Gradually the pieces of sec-
ondary education were patched
together. Some classes resumed
in the week following the fire.
Principal T. M. Buck gave
instructions for study hall periods.
Students who lived close enough
should go home to study. The
rest should carry on study hall in
the basement of West School.
On the 21st a school assembly
was held at St. Mary's School.
The band missed only one prac-
tice session. But the junior class
play just barely made it. It had
been scheduled for the auditori-
um, the scenery was in place,
and the dress rehearsal per-
formed. Then suddenly--nothing
left. The fire preceded the first
performance by just a few hours.
"Mother Carey's Chickens" were
all burned up.
Then came the announce-
ment that the play would be given
after all on Tuesday evening, with
new scenery, in Ohio Wesleyan's
Sanborn Hall. And that's what
happened. The juniors--Wyford
Jones, Mary Jo Main, Genevieve
Ewers, Fred Herr, Wendell Hart-
ley among them--directed by Ber-
nice Moran, put on their show,
surrounded by whatever scenery
could be "whomped up" over the
weekend.
Then began a drawn-out, frus-
trating, discouraging story. It took
a bit of time for the process to get
under way, what with emergency
band-aid measures. Unbeliev-
ably, the first debate was over the
question of whether to try for a
new building at all. Both in and
out of the School Board argu-
ments were heard for making do
with what was left.
Then, when it became clear
that not much of anything was
left, the arguments swirled
around cost, method of financing,
authority to act, site, and other
controverted problems. The al-
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 9)
Description
[page 9]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 9 of Delaware High School]
ready divided three-person
board, which had just fired one
school superintendent and one
high school principal and em-
ployed new ones, was further
rent.
On 11 April the Gazette report-
ed that Mr. Vergon and Mrs. Bat-
tenfield, under heavy pressure,
were resigning to make room for
fresh leadership. But Dr. Pounds,
the immovable president, refused
to resign on the principle that
continuing authority was neces-
sary under the circumstances. A
"citizens' advisory committee"
charged that the board had "be-
trayed confidence," and that the
people generally had lost faith in
the board's leadership. At the
same time the committee ex-
pressed support for the belea-
guered new superintendent.
A mass meeting proposed
names for temporary appoint-
ment by Probate Judge Ira C.
Gregory. One of the temporary
appointees was C. C. Dunlap,
who continued in leadership
throughout the long process of
getting a new building.
That process, after the in-
evitable decision was made to re-
place the old structure, forthwith
stumbled into c
Conflict over choice of an archi-
tect. Over Dunlap's objection
Glass & Ramsey of Columbus
was chosen.
Another fight ensued over site.
It seems everyone in town had
strong convictions on this. Some,
chiefly conservative, wanted to
stay on the old site, make use of
the unburned north wing, and
add it to the south along
William Street. Although this
would mean acquisition of certain
private properties adjoining, it
promised, in the short term at
least, lower cost.
But soon a movement was un-
derway to locate along the Olen-
tangy River between Winter and
William Streets. Another group
favored the Girls' Athletic Field,
an ample tract to the west held
by Ohio Wesleyan.
There were other sugges-
tions. Superintendent Conrad,
one of those with longer vision,
urged the necessity of providing
wide space as required in mod-
ern education, including space
for athletics and parking of cars.
The Gazette, in attempting a
poll, brought inconclusive results.
A first report showed 60 per cent
in favor of the river site, 16 per
cent for the present location, 14
per cent for the Girls' Athletic
Field and 7 per cent for the city
park. But later tabulation, though
it kept large support for the river,
put 18 per cent for the Girls' Ath-
letic Field, and only 13 per cent
for the present location [Gazette,
20 July 1929].
Already the Class of 1932 had
completed its first, traumatic year.
The struggle over a new building
would plague the elders and irri-
tate the adolescents for another
three years. But we kids had our
lives to live. We were more con-
cerned about Girl Reserves, Hi-Y,
Mac Barr's football, scholarship
recognition, and beauty queens.
Chapter 2: A Second Year,
1929-1930
The World and Delaware
As school opened for the
new year the stock market
was suffering attacks of jitters.
But not until the end of Octo-
ber did the now famous crash
take place, the Black Friday,
largely unanticipated. No one,
especially high school stu-
dents, really understood what
lay in store.
Signs continued to be am-
biguous. The Gazette rport-
ed on Nov. 1 a buying orgy:
"Nobody seemed to be selling.
Everybody is buying." In early
December President Hoover
told 400 businessmen that
"Work" was the best way to
stimulate business. By March
he was forecasting that the
country was coming out of the
slump.
That would have been inter-
esting news to the publishers
of the Journal Herald, whose
assets were bought by the
Gazette. The Journal Herald
had begun publishing in 1900
in an effort to balance the po-
litical influence of The
Gazette, which had been an
official expression of the Re-
publican Party. Now as
Delaware's only newspaper it
would henceforth be "indepen-
dent."
The news was not all
lugubrious. In England in
September an airplane broke
all speed records at 328 miles
per hour. At the fall annual
conferences of the Methodist
Episcopal Church Harold
Ruopp was appointed to the
pastorate of William Street
church and Stanley Mullen to
Asbury.
On Saturday, Oct. 19, Sel-
by Stadium, constructed be-
tween Henry Street and the
Olentangy River, was dedicat-
ed. A photograph on the front
page of The Gazette [Oct. 22]
showed the five participants:
Harold Elford the contractor,
coach George Gauthier, presi-
dent Edmund D. Soper, home-
coming chairman A. C. Conger,
and Mark W. Selby.
Early in November there
was a "Mardi Gras"
Hallowe'en party downtown,
which was a great success in
spite of rain. Large crowds,
some persons in costume,
gathered in the business sec-
tion to watch the parades and
celebrations.
That winter Professor Har-
lan T. Stetson of Ohio Wes-
leyan reported that there may
exist a hitherto unknown plan-
et outside the orbit of Nep-
tune.
Terrible news was the holo-
caust at the grim Ohio State
Penitentiary in Columbus,
where in April 317 convicts
lost their lives in a fire which
completely destroyed one en-
tire cell block. This was anoth-
er sad chapter in a continuing
disreputable side of Ohio his-
tory, its penal system.
[corresponds to unlabeled page 9 of Delaware High School]
ready divided three-person
board, which had just fired one
school superintendent and one
high school principal and em-
ployed new ones, was further
rent.
On 11 April the Gazette report-
ed that Mr. Vergon and Mrs. Bat-
tenfield, under heavy pressure,
were resigning to make room for
fresh leadership. But Dr. Pounds,
the immovable president, refused
to resign on the principle that
continuing authority was neces-
sary under the circumstances. A
"citizens' advisory committee"
charged that the board had "be-
trayed confidence," and that the
people generally had lost faith in
the board's leadership. At the
same time the committee ex-
pressed support for the belea-
guered new superintendent.
A mass meeting proposed
names for temporary appoint-
ment by Probate Judge Ira C.
Gregory. One of the temporary
appointees was C. C. Dunlap,
who continued in leadership
throughout the long process of
getting a new building.
That process, after the in-
evitable decision was made to re-
place the old structure, forthwith
stumbled into c
Conflict over choice of an archi-
tect. Over Dunlap's objection
Glass & Ramsey of Columbus
was chosen.
Another fight ensued over site.
It seems everyone in town had
strong convictions on this. Some,
chiefly conservative, wanted to
stay on the old site, make use of
the unburned north wing, and
add it to the south along
William Street. Although this
would mean acquisition of certain
private properties adjoining, it
promised, in the short term at
least, lower cost.
But soon a movement was un-
derway to locate along the Olen-
tangy River between Winter and
William Streets. Another group
favored the Girls' Athletic Field,
an ample tract to the west held
by Ohio Wesleyan.
There were other sugges-
tions. Superintendent Conrad,
one of those with longer vision,
urged the necessity of providing
wide space as required in mod-
ern education, including space
for athletics and parking of cars.
The Gazette, in attempting a
poll, brought inconclusive results.
A first report showed 60 per cent
in favor of the river site, 16 per
cent for the present location, 14
per cent for the Girls' Athletic
Field and 7 per cent for the city
park. But later tabulation, though
it kept large support for the river,
put 18 per cent for the Girls' Ath-
letic Field, and only 13 per cent
for the present location [Gazette,
20 July 1929].
Already the Class of 1932 had
completed its first, traumatic year.
The struggle over a new building
would plague the elders and irri-
tate the adolescents for another
three years. But we kids had our
lives to live. We were more con-
cerned about Girl Reserves, Hi-Y,
Mac Barr's football, scholarship
recognition, and beauty queens.
Chapter 2: A Second Year,
1929-1930
The World and Delaware
As school opened for the
new year the stock market
was suffering attacks of jitters.
But not until the end of Octo-
ber did the now famous crash
take place, the Black Friday,
largely unanticipated. No one,
especially high school stu-
dents, really understood what
lay in store.
Signs continued to be am-
biguous. The Gazette rport-
ed on Nov. 1 a buying orgy:
"Nobody seemed to be selling.
Everybody is buying." In early
December President Hoover
told 400 businessmen that
"Work" was the best way to
stimulate business. By March
he was forecasting that the
country was coming out of the
slump.
That would have been inter-
esting news to the publishers
of the Journal Herald, whose
assets were bought by the
Gazette. The Journal Herald
had begun publishing in 1900
in an effort to balance the po-
litical influence of The
Gazette, which had been an
official expression of the Re-
publican Party. Now as
Delaware's only newspaper it
would henceforth be "indepen-
dent."
The news was not all
lugubrious. In England in
September an airplane broke
all speed records at 328 miles
per hour. At the fall annual
conferences of the Methodist
Episcopal Church Harold
Ruopp was appointed to the
pastorate of William Street
church and Stanley Mullen to
Asbury.
On Saturday, Oct. 19, Sel-
by Stadium, constructed be-
tween Henry Street and the
Olentangy River, was dedicat-
ed. A photograph on the front
page of The Gazette [Oct. 22]
showed the five participants:
Harold Elford the contractor,
coach George Gauthier, presi-
dent Edmund D. Soper, home-
coming chairman A. C. Conger,
and Mark W. Selby.
Early in November there
was a "Mardi Gras"
Hallowe'en party downtown,
which was a great success in
spite of rain. Large crowds,
some persons in costume,
gathered in the business sec-
tion to watch the parades and
celebrations.
That winter Professor Har-
lan T. Stetson of Ohio Wes-
leyan reported that there may
exist a hitherto unknown plan-
et outside the orbit of Nep-
tune.
Terrible news was the holo-
caust at the grim Ohio State
Penitentiary in Columbus,
where in April 317 convicts
lost their lives in a fire which
completely destroyed one en-
tire cell block. This was anoth-
er sad chapter in a continuing
disreputable side of Ohio his-
tory, its penal system.
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 10)
Description
[page 10]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 10 of Delaware High School]
Closer to Delaware, howev-
er, was the happy arrival at the
end of May of the Robbins
Brothers Circus, in a train
composed of 30 cars. A long
parade down Sandusky Street
helped take accumulating
troubles off people's minds.
And the Jane M. Case Hospi-
tal drive was successful at
over $100,000.
These events tended to
overshadow other affairs.
Eugene O'Neill won the
Pulitzer Prize for "Strange In-
terlude" and Thomas Mann
the Nobel Prize, William
Faulkner came out with "Sar-
toris" and "The Sound and the
Fury", Ernest Hemingway with
"A Farewell to Arms", Sinclair
Lewis with "Dodsworth", Erich
Maria Remarque with "All Qui-
et on the Western Front", and
Thomas Wolfe with "Look
Homeward, Angel". John
Dewey wrote "The Quest for
Certainty", Walter Lippmann
"Preface to Morals", Bertrand
Russell "Marriage and
Morals", while Marc Chagall,
Salvador Dali, Lyonel
Feininger, and Georgia O'-
Keefe were painting.
Aaron Copeland com-
posed "Symphonic Ode,"
George Gershwin "Show Girl,"
and Cole Porter "Fifty Million
Frenchmen." But people were
humming "Stardust," "Tiptoe
Through the Tulips," and "Sin-
gin' in the Rain."
Building Pains
One persistent theme
coursed through the entire
sophomores year: the new high
school building. All con-
cerned, including the new
school board, now were
agreed on the necessity. That
was all they were agreed on.
Problems centered on the
choice of site, choice of archi-
tect, amount and method of fi-
nancing, and legality. When
attorneys got into the act, the
whole process ground to a
halt. At the end of a year and
a half of talk and conflict,
Delaware was no closer to a
new high school than at the
beginning.
The frustrations of public
servants were excruciating.
No sooner was a decision
made, usually painfully, than
protest, including legal ac-
tions, grew louder. No one
benefited except the lawyers.
The chief losers, however,
were the students, who some-
how managed to keep on us-
ing temporary facilities -- or
none at all -- for education,
sports, culture, and recre-
ation. But most important, and
almost miraculously, the high
schoolers were educated, for
the most part well educated.
What the teaching staff had
to sacrifice has never been
told. Information oozed out
about the condition of class-
rooms, the state of the library,
problems of study periods, all
the rest; and presently the
squeeze of the Depression re-
sulted in restricted budgets,
abandoned projects, and low-
er salaries.
But the educational pro-
cess, using something a bit
better than Mark Hopkins' log,
survived. So did the students.
It helped to be young in those
days. Fire and Depression
were a "double whammy"
(comic page jargon of the
times).
The Class of 1932 was in
the eye of the storm. Its histo-
ry coincided with the four-
year struggle to build a new
building, and ended in the
darkest year of the Depres-
sion. It barely managed to
stage its senior play and the
junior-senior banquet in what
was to become -- next year --
Frank B. Willis High School.
Well, The Gazette reported
[Oct. 1, 1929] that six of the
seven houses on William
Street, which occupied space
needed for the new building,
had been acquired. Contracts
would be let the end of the
month, and construction
would begin "soon." There
was still grumbling over the
choice of site which would
permit use of the surviving
north wing but offered very
constricted space. But the
board forged ahead and re-
ceived bids.
Enter the lawyers, engaged
by citizens opposed to the ac-
tions of the school board. G. K.
Hoffman, M. C. Russell, G. E.
Gauthier, H. M. Bing, J. P.
Salter, and W. H. Bodurtha
filed suit in the court of com-
mon pleas, and Judge H. W.
Jewel granted a restraining
order which prevented any ac-
tion.
The plot thickened, and
progress went "like tar uphill
in January." The suit argued
that the bond issue for
$400,000 was illegal because
of improper bidding and lack
of approval by the voters. F. M.
Marriott, Jr. and Russell Knep-
per argued the case in
November.
On Nov. 18 Judge E. W.
Porter (of Marysville) declared
the bonds illegal. Hence, as
the newspaper averred,
"Delaware is no nearer to hav-
ing a new high school than it
was immediately after the dis-
astrous fire of last March."
The school board thought at
first that it would appeal the
decision, then decided to with-
draw the appeal. In the mean-
time a new board had been
elected with members Dunlap,
McFadden, and Vergon.
When the city solicitor, H. D.
House, refused to allow the
appeal to be withdrawn, the
board asked Marriott to file the
papers. In June (after the
completion of our sophomore
year) the Court of Appeals re-
versed Judge Porter's deci-
sion and declared the bonds
legal after all.
When it became apparent
[corresponds to unlabeled page 10 of Delaware High School]
Closer to Delaware, howev-
er, was the happy arrival at the
end of May of the Robbins
Brothers Circus, in a train
composed of 30 cars. A long
parade down Sandusky Street
helped take accumulating
troubles off people's minds.
And the Jane M. Case Hospi-
tal drive was successful at
over $100,000.
These events tended to
overshadow other affairs.
Eugene O'Neill won the
Pulitzer Prize for "Strange In-
terlude" and Thomas Mann
the Nobel Prize, William
Faulkner came out with "Sar-
toris" and "The Sound and the
Fury", Ernest Hemingway with
"A Farewell to Arms", Sinclair
Lewis with "Dodsworth", Erich
Maria Remarque with "All Qui-
et on the Western Front", and
Thomas Wolfe with "Look
Homeward, Angel". John
Dewey wrote "The Quest for
Certainty", Walter Lippmann
"Preface to Morals", Bertrand
Russell "Marriage and
Morals", while Marc Chagall,
Salvador Dali, Lyonel
Feininger, and Georgia O'-
Keefe were painting.
Aaron Copeland com-
posed "Symphonic Ode,"
George Gershwin "Show Girl,"
and Cole Porter "Fifty Million
Frenchmen." But people were
humming "Stardust," "Tiptoe
Through the Tulips," and "Sin-
gin' in the Rain."
Building Pains
One persistent theme
coursed through the entire
sophomores year: the new high
school building. All con-
cerned, including the new
school board, now were
agreed on the necessity. That
was all they were agreed on.
Problems centered on the
choice of site, choice of archi-
tect, amount and method of fi-
nancing, and legality. When
attorneys got into the act, the
whole process ground to a
halt. At the end of a year and
a half of talk and conflict,
Delaware was no closer to a
new high school than at the
beginning.
The frustrations of public
servants were excruciating.
No sooner was a decision
made, usually painfully, than
protest, including legal ac-
tions, grew louder. No one
benefited except the lawyers.
The chief losers, however,
were the students, who some-
how managed to keep on us-
ing temporary facilities -- or
none at all -- for education,
sports, culture, and recre-
ation. But most important, and
almost miraculously, the high
schoolers were educated, for
the most part well educated.
What the teaching staff had
to sacrifice has never been
told. Information oozed out
about the condition of class-
rooms, the state of the library,
problems of study periods, all
the rest; and presently the
squeeze of the Depression re-
sulted in restricted budgets,
abandoned projects, and low-
er salaries.
But the educational pro-
cess, using something a bit
better than Mark Hopkins' log,
survived. So did the students.
It helped to be young in those
days. Fire and Depression
were a "double whammy"
(comic page jargon of the
times).
The Class of 1932 was in
the eye of the storm. Its histo-
ry coincided with the four-
year struggle to build a new
building, and ended in the
darkest year of the Depres-
sion. It barely managed to
stage its senior play and the
junior-senior banquet in what
was to become -- next year --
Frank B. Willis High School.
Well, The Gazette reported
[Oct. 1, 1929] that six of the
seven houses on William
Street, which occupied space
needed for the new building,
had been acquired. Contracts
would be let the end of the
month, and construction
would begin "soon." There
was still grumbling over the
choice of site which would
permit use of the surviving
north wing but offered very
constricted space. But the
board forged ahead and re-
ceived bids.
Enter the lawyers, engaged
by citizens opposed to the ac-
tions of the school board. G. K.
Hoffman, M. C. Russell, G. E.
Gauthier, H. M. Bing, J. P.
Salter, and W. H. Bodurtha
filed suit in the court of com-
mon pleas, and Judge H. W.
Jewel granted a restraining
order which prevented any ac-
tion.
The plot thickened, and
progress went "like tar uphill
in January." The suit argued
that the bond issue for
$400,000 was illegal because
of improper bidding and lack
of approval by the voters. F. M.
Marriott, Jr. and Russell Knep-
per argued the case in
November.
On Nov. 18 Judge E. W.
Porter (of Marysville) declared
the bonds illegal. Hence, as
the newspaper averred,
"Delaware is no nearer to hav-
ing a new high school than it
was immediately after the dis-
astrous fire of last March."
The school board thought at
first that it would appeal the
decision, then decided to with-
draw the appeal. In the mean-
time a new board had been
elected with members Dunlap,
McFadden, and Vergon.
When the city solicitor, H. D.
House, refused to allow the
appeal to be withdrawn, the
board asked Marriott to file the
papers. In June (after the
completion of our sophomore
year) the Court of Appeals re-
versed Judge Porter's deci-
sion and declared the bonds
legal after all.
When it became apparent
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 11)
Description
[page 11]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 11 of Delaware High School]
that no further appeal would
be made, the board met to re-
sume planning. It hoped that
construction could begin by
fall. But only one reef had
been crossed. The question of
site was still not completely
settled. It was 1930.
What Was Really Going
On
Turley was the durable hero
in football, along with Oller,
Kettering, and others. Early on
Delaware beat Marysville 19-
0. The following week the
team defeated Westerville 20-
0. The "Barr machine" began
to look invincible -- till Mount
Vernon punctured the balloon
with a crushing 40-7 victory
over Delaware. Then came
two more DHS victories, over
Granville and Upper San-
dusky, followed in early
November by a defeat at the
hands of Galion, 19-0.
By this time members of
our class were becoming
prominent. Paul Sell, Dick
Swearengin, Bud Rybolt, Sam
Roberts, and Myron Stegner
were already experienced on
the field. And Fleming, Wilgus,
Downing, Elston, Coover,
Hilborn, Sell and Bright won
the inter-class basketball tour-
nament. Ropp was joined on
the girls' basketball squad by
Wilma Krichbaum, Marion
Hubbart, and Marie Jones.
The successful athletic year
was proved as DHS won both
football championships in the
Tecumseh League. The bas-
ketball team, taking first place
in the League with defeat of
Bellefontaine, 36-08, went on
to become in March "undis-
puted champion." Jesse Brod-
nax was a new star in the
100-yard dash. No wonder
students had little place for
the troubles of the school
board!
Yet hope unfulfilled gnawed
unconsciously as they had to
put up with all sorts of ar-
rangements for classes, study
halls, assemblies, lunch, li-
brary, and innumerable small
inconveniences.
There was more immediate
interest in the discussions the
board had with the superin-
tendent and principal about
secret fraternities and sorori-
ties. Conrad made the point
that, since these organiza-
tions were only partly in-
school activities, parents also
held responsibility. Existence
of secret organizations like
these was chiefly the respon-
sibility of the home. But he
had membership lists and had
talked with officers.
A more properly education-
al enterprise was organization
of a Quill and Scroll Club to
encourage writing. The seven
members were president
Vance Bell, Charles Hamilton,
Gladine Moses, Frank Fagley,
Elizabeth Mackley, Helen
Dixon, and Robert Newcomb.
Study halls continued to be
a problem. Students did their
reading and homework in a
variety of locations: home,
downtown stores, city hall,
cars, even the sidewalk.
For out-of-town students
the second-floor hallway was
being readied, with better
lighting and armchairs.
Stricter discipline in use of
study periods was being intro-
duced.
High honors in the Central
District scholarship test went
to Bill Rice, Betty Huffman,
Marie Jones, Gilbert Barnes,
Elton Woodbury, and Lloyd
Morrison. DHS accumulated
enough points to rank fourth
in the district.
The new Student Council
included the class officers for
the sophomore year, presi-
dent Paul Sell, vice president
Robert Hartley, secretary
Robert Newcomb, and trea-
surer Margaret Anne Fresh-
water. Our class was well rep-
resented on the debate team -
- Newcomb, Freshwater, and
Higley.
On a lighter note, yet a
learning experience, Elmer
McFadden, serving for a day
as student mayor, Bill Rice as
safety director, and Wendell
Hartley as chief of police,
engineered the "arrest and
conviction" of Superintendent
Conrad for trespassing on the
circus grounds. He was sen-
tenced to 30 days in jail and
$100 fine, all remitted for good
behavior.
A regular "School of the Air"
now came over the school ra-
dio, that magical machine
which broadcasts sound with-
out any wires, between two
and three in the afternoon.
The glee clubs put on an op-
eretta in April in the City Build-
ing, "Riding Down the Sky,"
with a cast of 140.
At Asbury church, Katherine
King won the Prince of Peace
medal given by the Ohio
Council of Churches. Second
place went to Betty Higley;
third to Helen Eagon, and
fourth to Elmer McFadden.
Students were glad to learn
(end of June) that Ruth Board-
man had been appointed prin-
cipal of West School, where
many had done elementary
training. Later it was renamed
in her honor.
Sixty-year alumni of the
Class of 1932 have long since
gotten used to the loss of class-
mates -- though not without
pain.
But in our sophomore year
we were unprepared for the
untimely death of two of our
classmates, Mary Helen Row-
land and Darlene Turney.
We were learning a lesson
not taught in classes, that
death is a part of life. We
should learn it again as World
War II clouded the horizon.
In our second year the se-
nior class did not seem quite
so formidable, especially after
beating them in intramural
[corresponds to unlabeled page 11 of Delaware High School]
that no further appeal would
be made, the board met to re-
sume planning. It hoped that
construction could begin by
fall. But only one reef had
been crossed. The question of
site was still not completely
settled. It was 1930.
What Was Really Going
On
Turley was the durable hero
in football, along with Oller,
Kettering, and others. Early on
Delaware beat Marysville 19-
0. The following week the
team defeated Westerville 20-
0. The "Barr machine" began
to look invincible -- till Mount
Vernon punctured the balloon
with a crushing 40-7 victory
over Delaware. Then came
two more DHS victories, over
Granville and Upper San-
dusky, followed in early
November by a defeat at the
hands of Galion, 19-0.
By this time members of
our class were becoming
prominent. Paul Sell, Dick
Swearengin, Bud Rybolt, Sam
Roberts, and Myron Stegner
were already experienced on
the field. And Fleming, Wilgus,
Downing, Elston, Coover,
Hilborn, Sell and Bright won
the inter-class basketball tour-
nament. Ropp was joined on
the girls' basketball squad by
Wilma Krichbaum, Marion
Hubbart, and Marie Jones.
The successful athletic year
was proved as DHS won both
football championships in the
Tecumseh League. The bas-
ketball team, taking first place
in the League with defeat of
Bellefontaine, 36-08, went on
to become in March "undis-
puted champion." Jesse Brod-
nax was a new star in the
100-yard dash. No wonder
students had little place for
the troubles of the school
board!
Yet hope unfulfilled gnawed
unconsciously as they had to
put up with all sorts of ar-
rangements for classes, study
halls, assemblies, lunch, li-
brary, and innumerable small
inconveniences.
There was more immediate
interest in the discussions the
board had with the superin-
tendent and principal about
secret fraternities and sorori-
ties. Conrad made the point
that, since these organiza-
tions were only partly in-
school activities, parents also
held responsibility. Existence
of secret organizations like
these was chiefly the respon-
sibility of the home. But he
had membership lists and had
talked with officers.
A more properly education-
al enterprise was organization
of a Quill and Scroll Club to
encourage writing. The seven
members were president
Vance Bell, Charles Hamilton,
Gladine Moses, Frank Fagley,
Elizabeth Mackley, Helen
Dixon, and Robert Newcomb.
Study halls continued to be
a problem. Students did their
reading and homework in a
variety of locations: home,
downtown stores, city hall,
cars, even the sidewalk.
For out-of-town students
the second-floor hallway was
being readied, with better
lighting and armchairs.
Stricter discipline in use of
study periods was being intro-
duced.
High honors in the Central
District scholarship test went
to Bill Rice, Betty Huffman,
Marie Jones, Gilbert Barnes,
Elton Woodbury, and Lloyd
Morrison. DHS accumulated
enough points to rank fourth
in the district.
The new Student Council
included the class officers for
the sophomore year, presi-
dent Paul Sell, vice president
Robert Hartley, secretary
Robert Newcomb, and trea-
surer Margaret Anne Fresh-
water. Our class was well rep-
resented on the debate team -
- Newcomb, Freshwater, and
Higley.
On a lighter note, yet a
learning experience, Elmer
McFadden, serving for a day
as student mayor, Bill Rice as
safety director, and Wendell
Hartley as chief of police,
engineered the "arrest and
conviction" of Superintendent
Conrad for trespassing on the
circus grounds. He was sen-
tenced to 30 days in jail and
$100 fine, all remitted for good
behavior.
A regular "School of the Air"
now came over the school ra-
dio, that magical machine
which broadcasts sound with-
out any wires, between two
and three in the afternoon.
The glee clubs put on an op-
eretta in April in the City Build-
ing, "Riding Down the Sky,"
with a cast of 140.
At Asbury church, Katherine
King won the Prince of Peace
medal given by the Ohio
Council of Churches. Second
place went to Betty Higley;
third to Helen Eagon, and
fourth to Elmer McFadden.
Students were glad to learn
(end of June) that Ruth Board-
man had been appointed prin-
cipal of West School, where
many had done elementary
training. Later it was renamed
in her honor.
Sixty-year alumni of the
Class of 1932 have long since
gotten used to the loss of class-
mates -- though not without
pain.
But in our sophomore year
we were unprepared for the
untimely death of two of our
classmates, Mary Helen Row-
land and Darlene Turney.
We were learning a lesson
not taught in classes, that
death is a part of life. We
should learn it again as World
War II clouded the horizon.
In our second year the se-
nior class did not seem quite
so formidable, especially after
beating them in intramural
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 12)
Description
[page 12]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 12 of Delaware High School]
basketball. But they were still
ahead -- Herr, Anson, Hartley,
LeBaron, McFadden, Rice,
and the rest.
But watch out! The Class
of 1932 was coming up fast!
Chapter 3: Upperclass
Juniors in Action
One of the most exciting
events of the junior year took
place during the summer: Gib
Barnes was chased in Canada
by a black bear. He also took a
160-mile canoe trip [Gazette,
Sept. 20, 1930].
More officially, the school
year began on Sept. 2 with an
opening assembly at Sanborn
Hall, where the band played
"Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here."
The new high school principal,
G. W. Stuart, presided. Frances
Sell, president of Girl Reserves,
and Leo Stone, president of Hi-
Y, spoke.
Toward the end of the month
class elections were held. Ju-
niors were headed by Elton
Woodbury, Miles Hall, Dale
Main, and Sherman Moist. What
had happened to that feminist
movement that dominated our
first year? Senior class officers
were Philip Edgar, Charles
Hamilton, Ruth Carson, and
Frank Fagley. Although we were
now upperclassmen, we still
had these seniors to contend
with -- Louise Hartman, Edson
Anderson, Clara Bundy,
Dorothy Conrad, Mary Emma
Emerson, John Shindoler, and
lots of other talent. But Gilbert
Barnes, who had tied with Merle
Law), Marion Hubbart, and
Marie Jones were on Student
Council; Bob Hartley, Sherman
Moist, and Helen Laird were ed-
itors of the "Weekly Delhi
Echo"; Don Mackley won an al-
titude record for model planes.
Juniors were thus coming
into leadership in all aspects of
school life. This was true in
sports as well. Although John
Turley was still outstanding in
football, the team could not
have got along without Sell,
Roberts, Rybolt, Kettering, and
Fleming. This season they won
all their games except one tie.
When the Tecumseh League fell
apart at the end of the season,
Delaware High School, which
had held the League football
trophy for two years, was given
permanent possession.
Juniors were equally active in
the strong basketball team: El-
ston, Hilborn, Stegner, Bright,
Sell, and Roberts. The girls'
basketball team continued to
enjoy the participation of Betty
Ropp, who had played three
years ever since the team was
organized, and Wilma Krich-
baum. Helen Laird was the
team manager. As if this were
not enough for juniors, both
Marie Jones and William (Bus)
Austin were regular cheerlead-
ers.
Some activities would sur-
prise high schoolers of a later
generation. There was an active
Junior Latin Club with Elton
Woodbury as president. Polly
Perley was chairman of the pro-
gram committee for the first
meeting, which began with the
singing of the "Star Spangled
Banner" in Latin, Betty Higley
spoke on Roman women and
Katherine King on Roman hous-
es. This meeting extended sym-
metrically with the singing of
"America" in Latin. The next
meeting, under the direction of
Fred Norwood, began with his
report on Roman gods. This
was followed by the recounting
of ancient myths by Woodbury,
Barnes, Victor Davis, and Es-
ther Carnes. Harriet Worline,
Marion Hubbart, and Dawer-
ance Skatzes would lead the
next meeting.
Toward the end of fall, on
Nov. 3, the high school cafete-
ria, which had been left in
shambles by the fire more than
a year and a half before,
opened. Macaroni and cheese
could be had for five cents and
milk for three cents.
Students began to hear of
some newcomers, kids called
freshmen, like the 25 girls in the
Freshmen Girls' Glee Club, led
by president Lois Zeigler, vice
president Mary Belle Whitacre,
secretary Eleanor Kissner, and
librarian Hester Denny, along
Janet Benton, Florence Stetson,
and other aspiring beauties.
Among the boys of that class
were David Grube, Wesley
Leas (already active as drum
major), Jim McKinnie, and
younger members of the Moist,
O'Keefe, and Swearengin fami-
lies. What were you kids like
these doing in high school?
The junior class party, which
had been scheduled for Jan. 13
at Della Dana Studio, was final-
ly held over a month later at
West School. Marie Jones was
head of the planning commit-
tee. Besides an hour of dancing
to the school's popular orches-
tra were songs by the boys'
quartet and readings by Betty
Higley and Smith Fry. Another
gala winter event was the Girl
Reserves play, "The Pied Piper
of Hamlin," which took place in
the Opera House (old City Hall)
on March 5. Dorothy Conrad
was the piper, luring some 30
elementary children with her
magic instrument. Vivian Coul-
ter, Margaret Sharadin, Betty
Higley, and Katherine King had
parts. In April the band put on a
half-hour broadcast over WAIV
in Columbus, part of "Neighbor
Palmer's Noon Hour."
The scholarly record of
Delaware High School contin-
ued strong, seniors William
O'Neal and Leo Stone scoring
high and some of the juniors
placing in state contests.
Some happenings were little
noted at the time because only
a few witnessed them, but they
loom large in the memories of
some students. Mr. Galliday be-
came an instant hero as he ef-
fectively used a fire extinguish-
er on a grease fire in the home
ec oven on the third floor. Re-
member, this was the notorious
third floor of the old north wing,
[corresponds to unlabeled page 12 of Delaware High School]
basketball. But they were still
ahead -- Herr, Anson, Hartley,
LeBaron, McFadden, Rice,
and the rest.
But watch out! The Class
of 1932 was coming up fast!
Chapter 3: Upperclass
Juniors in Action
One of the most exciting
events of the junior year took
place during the summer: Gib
Barnes was chased in Canada
by a black bear. He also took a
160-mile canoe trip [Gazette,
Sept. 20, 1930].
More officially, the school
year began on Sept. 2 with an
opening assembly at Sanborn
Hall, where the band played
"Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here."
The new high school principal,
G. W. Stuart, presided. Frances
Sell, president of Girl Reserves,
and Leo Stone, president of Hi-
Y, spoke.
Toward the end of the month
class elections were held. Ju-
niors were headed by Elton
Woodbury, Miles Hall, Dale
Main, and Sherman Moist. What
had happened to that feminist
movement that dominated our
first year? Senior class officers
were Philip Edgar, Charles
Hamilton, Ruth Carson, and
Frank Fagley. Although we were
now upperclassmen, we still
had these seniors to contend
with -- Louise Hartman, Edson
Anderson, Clara Bundy,
Dorothy Conrad, Mary Emma
Emerson, John Shindoler, and
lots of other talent. But Gilbert
Barnes, who had tied with Merle
Law), Marion Hubbart, and
Marie Jones were on Student
Council; Bob Hartley, Sherman
Moist, and Helen Laird were ed-
itors of the "Weekly Delhi
Echo"; Don Mackley won an al-
titude record for model planes.
Juniors were thus coming
into leadership in all aspects of
school life. This was true in
sports as well. Although John
Turley was still outstanding in
football, the team could not
have got along without Sell,
Roberts, Rybolt, Kettering, and
Fleming. This season they won
all their games except one tie.
When the Tecumseh League fell
apart at the end of the season,
Delaware High School, which
had held the League football
trophy for two years, was given
permanent possession.
Juniors were equally active in
the strong basketball team: El-
ston, Hilborn, Stegner, Bright,
Sell, and Roberts. The girls'
basketball team continued to
enjoy the participation of Betty
Ropp, who had played three
years ever since the team was
organized, and Wilma Krich-
baum. Helen Laird was the
team manager. As if this were
not enough for juniors, both
Marie Jones and William (Bus)
Austin were regular cheerlead-
ers.
Some activities would sur-
prise high schoolers of a later
generation. There was an active
Junior Latin Club with Elton
Woodbury as president. Polly
Perley was chairman of the pro-
gram committee for the first
meeting, which began with the
singing of the "Star Spangled
Banner" in Latin, Betty Higley
spoke on Roman women and
Katherine King on Roman hous-
es. This meeting extended sym-
metrically with the singing of
"America" in Latin. The next
meeting, under the direction of
Fred Norwood, began with his
report on Roman gods. This
was followed by the recounting
of ancient myths by Woodbury,
Barnes, Victor Davis, and Es-
ther Carnes. Harriet Worline,
Marion Hubbart, and Dawer-
ance Skatzes would lead the
next meeting.
Toward the end of fall, on
Nov. 3, the high school cafete-
ria, which had been left in
shambles by the fire more than
a year and a half before,
opened. Macaroni and cheese
could be had for five cents and
milk for three cents.
Students began to hear of
some newcomers, kids called
freshmen, like the 25 girls in the
Freshmen Girls' Glee Club, led
by president Lois Zeigler, vice
president Mary Belle Whitacre,
secretary Eleanor Kissner, and
librarian Hester Denny, along
Janet Benton, Florence Stetson,
and other aspiring beauties.
Among the boys of that class
were David Grube, Wesley
Leas (already active as drum
major), Jim McKinnie, and
younger members of the Moist,
O'Keefe, and Swearengin fami-
lies. What were you kids like
these doing in high school?
The junior class party, which
had been scheduled for Jan. 13
at Della Dana Studio, was final-
ly held over a month later at
West School. Marie Jones was
head of the planning commit-
tee. Besides an hour of dancing
to the school's popular orches-
tra were songs by the boys'
quartet and readings by Betty
Higley and Smith Fry. Another
gala winter event was the Girl
Reserves play, "The Pied Piper
of Hamlin," which took place in
the Opera House (old City Hall)
on March 5. Dorothy Conrad
was the piper, luring some 30
elementary children with her
magic instrument. Vivian Coul-
ter, Margaret Sharadin, Betty
Higley, and Katherine King had
parts. In April the band put on a
half-hour broadcast over WAIV
in Columbus, part of "Neighbor
Palmer's Noon Hour."
The scholarly record of
Delaware High School contin-
ued strong, seniors William
O'Neal and Leo Stone scoring
high and some of the juniors
placing in state contests.
Some happenings were little
noted at the time because only
a few witnessed them, but they
loom large in the memories of
some students. Mr. Galliday be-
came an instant hero as he ef-
fectively used a fire extinguish-
er on a grease fire in the home
ec oven on the third floor. Re-
member, this was the notorious
third floor of the old north wing,
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 13)
Description
[page 13]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 13 of Delaware High School]
still without the fire escapes.
The ingenuity of students in
coping with the crowded library
and inadequate facilities for
study is illustrated by the boy,
who unable to get further into
the library, sat in the hall out-
side, making sure he had his
feet through the door. There
was a school rule against
studying in the hall outside. The
"Weekly Delhi Echo" leaves the
impression he got away with it
[Gazette, April 11].
Then came baccalaureate
again (Rev. Harold Ruopp
speaking) and commencement
in Gray Chapel on June 5. After
school was over, the announce-
ment was made of a new athlet-
ic coach, Ervin F. Carlisle, who
had been a star quarterback in
O.W.U. football. There would
also be two new teachers next
year, Dorothy Bussard in
French and Dean C. Friedley in
mathematics. Another recent
teacher was Maxson Greene.
Troubles on the horizon were
suggested by the decision of
the school board to set start of
school the following year for
Sept. 14, 12 days later than the
past year, for a school year of
172 school days instead of 181.
The board had learned in Jan-
uary that it would face a 10 per-
cent cut in its budget, largely as
a result of delinquent taxes.
The school system was not
alone in facing rigors of a deep-
ening economic depression.
Still Not Brick on Another
The tempers of public ser-
vants were beginning to run
short fuses. Even patient volun-
teers could take just so much
frustration. The school board,
having dismissed architects
Glass & Ramsey, voted (the
usual two-to-one, only this time
Dunlap in the minority) to en-
gage McLaughlin and Associ-
ates of Lima to prepare new
plans. Dunlap wanted a citi-
zens' committee to participate
in making the choice [Gazette,
Sept. 3, 1930]. But the citizens'
advisory committee resigned in
less than two weeks because of
the continuing divisions in the
school board. Dunlap believed
the board should forget the past
and rehire Glass & Ramsey.
The board decided to pay
Glass & Ramsey for its services
a total of $10,000, which the ar-
chitectural firm rejected as inad-
equate. An arbitrated settle-
ment of $12,000 was finally ac-
cepted. In early November
McLaughlin and Associates re-
ceived a final contract, and at
the beginning of the next month
new plans were accepted by
the board (Gazette, Sept. 13
smf17; Oct. 24; Nov. 6, and
Dec. 3).
Work would begin in spring, it
was said, on a three-story build-
ing including an 850-seat audi-
torium and gym wing. Another
calendar year had gone by. It
seemed that in February and March
that these intentions were being
implemented. The Gazette
headline for Feb. 6 was
"Building May Be Ready for
Use Next Fall." Construction
bids would be received on April
1 and let around the middle of
the month. Construction could
begin by May.
And Delaware Stumbled
On
As the autumn winds be-
came sharper and threats of
snow whispered in the falling
leaves, responsible citizens
and leaders in both city and
state began to fear that the
coming winter could work great
hardship on the increasing
numbers of jobless people and
destitute families. There was
talk of a special session of the
state legislature to deal with
unemployment. Before Christ-
mas the Delaware Chamber of
Commerce set up an employ-
ment bureau. But, at the very
time when extra action was
needed, all agencies found
their resources dwindling as
tax revenues declined and vol-
untary contributions dried up.
The chamber of commerce it-
self was in trouble because of
unpaid dues and reduced
membership.
The school board was not
the only community agency to
face a stringent budget. The in-
creasing rate of delinquent tax
accounts affected everybody.
The city government faced a
shortage of $16,000 and the
county $18,000. Employees'
salaries would have to be re-
duced, perhaps drastically.
Then it was learned that high-
way grants from the state
would be reduced two-thirds.
The economic distress was
not alleviated with the coming
of spring. 1931 would be
worse. The Depression was
spreading all over the world.
Germany fell into complete fi-
nancial collapse, and this
brought failure all over Europe.
In the midst of this unprece-
dented depression, with no end
sight, Delaware did what it
could. A "Save-the Surplus"
campaign in August 1931 was
designed to store up food for
hungry people the following
winter. Relief committees were
organized in all counties of
Ohio with the slogan "Be Pre-
pared" -- for a hard winter. Just
possibly the labor pains of the
school board helped to conceal
in Delaware the broader more
systemic illness of the Great
Depression.
As the Class of 1932 moved
into its senior year, however,
the effects of economic col-
lapse could not be hidden.
They were starkly visible right
down Sandusky Street. More
poignantly, though mostly invis-
ible, those effects gnawed in
the lives of school children and
their parents -- plans deferred,
hopes dwindled, self-confi-
dence weakened, personal re-
lations deteriorated, all on top
of the financial problems of
families, which now were work-
ing down into the lives of chil-
dren.
[corresponds to unlabeled page 13 of Delaware High School]
still without the fire escapes.
The ingenuity of students in
coping with the crowded library
and inadequate facilities for
study is illustrated by the boy,
who unable to get further into
the library, sat in the hall out-
side, making sure he had his
feet through the door. There
was a school rule against
studying in the hall outside. The
"Weekly Delhi Echo" leaves the
impression he got away with it
[Gazette, April 11].
Then came baccalaureate
again (Rev. Harold Ruopp
speaking) and commencement
in Gray Chapel on June 5. After
school was over, the announce-
ment was made of a new athlet-
ic coach, Ervin F. Carlisle, who
had been a star quarterback in
O.W.U. football. There would
also be two new teachers next
year, Dorothy Bussard in
French and Dean C. Friedley in
mathematics. Another recent
teacher was Maxson Greene.
Troubles on the horizon were
suggested by the decision of
the school board to set start of
school the following year for
Sept. 14, 12 days later than the
past year, for a school year of
172 school days instead of 181.
The board had learned in Jan-
uary that it would face a 10 per-
cent cut in its budget, largely as
a result of delinquent taxes.
The school system was not
alone in facing rigors of a deep-
ening economic depression.
Still Not Brick on Another
The tempers of public ser-
vants were beginning to run
short fuses. Even patient volun-
teers could take just so much
frustration. The school board,
having dismissed architects
Glass & Ramsey, voted (the
usual two-to-one, only this time
Dunlap in the minority) to en-
gage McLaughlin and Associ-
ates of Lima to prepare new
plans. Dunlap wanted a citi-
zens' committee to participate
in making the choice [Gazette,
Sept. 3, 1930]. But the citizens'
advisory committee resigned in
less than two weeks because of
the continuing divisions in the
school board. Dunlap believed
the board should forget the past
and rehire Glass & Ramsey.
The board decided to pay
Glass & Ramsey for its services
a total of $10,000, which the ar-
chitectural firm rejected as inad-
equate. An arbitrated settle-
ment of $12,000 was finally ac-
cepted. In early November
McLaughlin and Associates re-
ceived a final contract, and at
the beginning of the next month
new plans were accepted by
the board (Gazette, Sept. 13
smf17; Oct. 24; Nov. 6, and
Dec. 3).
Work would begin in spring, it
was said, on a three-story build-
ing including an 850-seat audi-
torium and gym wing. Another
calendar year had gone by. It
seemed that in February and March
that these intentions were being
implemented. The Gazette
headline for Feb. 6 was
"Building May Be Ready for
Use Next Fall." Construction
bids would be received on April
1 and let around the middle of
the month. Construction could
begin by May.
And Delaware Stumbled
On
As the autumn winds be-
came sharper and threats of
snow whispered in the falling
leaves, responsible citizens
and leaders in both city and
state began to fear that the
coming winter could work great
hardship on the increasing
numbers of jobless people and
destitute families. There was
talk of a special session of the
state legislature to deal with
unemployment. Before Christ-
mas the Delaware Chamber of
Commerce set up an employ-
ment bureau. But, at the very
time when extra action was
needed, all agencies found
their resources dwindling as
tax revenues declined and vol-
untary contributions dried up.
The chamber of commerce it-
self was in trouble because of
unpaid dues and reduced
membership.
The school board was not
the only community agency to
face a stringent budget. The in-
creasing rate of delinquent tax
accounts affected everybody.
The city government faced a
shortage of $16,000 and the
county $18,000. Employees'
salaries would have to be re-
duced, perhaps drastically.
Then it was learned that high-
way grants from the state
would be reduced two-thirds.
The economic distress was
not alleviated with the coming
of spring. 1931 would be
worse. The Depression was
spreading all over the world.
Germany fell into complete fi-
nancial collapse, and this
brought failure all over Europe.
In the midst of this unprece-
dented depression, with no end
sight, Delaware did what it
could. A "Save-the Surplus"
campaign in August 1931 was
designed to store up food for
hungry people the following
winter. Relief committees were
organized in all counties of
Ohio with the slogan "Be Pre-
pared" -- for a hard winter. Just
possibly the labor pains of the
school board helped to conceal
in Delaware the broader more
systemic illness of the Great
Depression.
As the Class of 1932 moved
into its senior year, however,
the effects of economic col-
lapse could not be hidden.
They were starkly visible right
down Sandusky Street. More
poignantly, though mostly invis-
ible, those effects gnawed in
the lives of school children and
their parents -- plans deferred,
hopes dwindled, self-confi-
dence weakened, personal re-
lations deteriorated, all on top
of the financial problems of
families, which now were work-
ing down into the lives of chil-
dren.
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 14)
Description
[page 14]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 14 of Delaware High School]
As is usually the case in
troubled times, however, things
were not all bad. In spite of its
own very serious financial prob-
lems, Ohio Wesleyan University
laid the cornerstone for
Stuyvesant Hall, freshmen girls'
dormitory, in September 1930.
And in August, 1931 the great
lens for the university's Perkins
Observatory was at last finished
and would be installed the fol-
lowing month.
Wesleyan students -- at
least the girls -- found time and
energy for shenanigans. The
Gazette reported [Nov. 21] that
the freshmen and sophomore
girls had a riot on Winter Street,
complete with hair-pulling and
clothes tearing. The hot issue
was the requirement laid on
freshmen to wear their "bea-
nies." The new girls objected
also to being ducked in the
showers in Monnett Hall and
having their faces plastered
with flour -- favorite devices of
the sophomores for enforcing
the beanie rule.
They fought their way down
Winter Street, cheered on by
the male students. The entire
night police force was unable to
do anything.
At last, when the primal in-
stincts had worn out, both
classes ended by parading vic-
toriously down Winter Street. It
was not quite clear who had
won. Only the police force lost.
For a brief moment you could
forget the Depression.
Also, Eddie O'Keefe of Boy
Scout Troop 96 was awarded
the rank of Eagle Scout by a
Court of Honor. He was the first
in Delaware County to attain
such a level [Gazette, Sept. 16].
1930 was the year when in Au-
gust the Children's Home at the
north end of town was badly
damaged by fire. Reconstruc-
tion would begin immediately.
Some alumni would remember
the grand old man of Delaware
patriotism, Captain R. H. Kel-
logg, Civil War veteran. He was
honored on his 87th birthday
with 87 roses and many letters
from school children [Gazette,
March 5, 1931].
At the end of that month
Notre Dame football coach
Knute Rockne, with eight oth-
ers, died in a plane crash.
Nicholas Longworth, longtime
Speaker of the House of Repre-
sentatives, died a week later.
In April in Columbus a bill to
permit Sunday movies was ap-
proved 71 to 42. And in mid-
summer Billy Sunday ad-
dressed-- if that is the word--
hundreds in William Street
Methodist church gathered for a
dry rally. He was "aged but still
vigorous" and let loose a "rapid
fire line of stories" [Gazette,
July 10.
All in all, it was quite a year
in Delaware, where nothing
much happens.
Chapter 4: Seniors at Last
1931-1932
A New High School
Building -- Almost
Even the Delaware Daily
Gazette seemed to be weary of the
long, drawn-out story. It had very lit-
tle to say of the actual construction.
After a brief restraining suit in June,
which was quickly thrown out, the
lawyers seemed too willing to
let things go ahead. The final razing
of the hulk of the south wing and the
mess of underground preparation
were accomplished.
That fall, high schoolers could
see beginnings on William Street,
watch progress from the old north
wing, and hear the whine of saws
and the clatter of hammers. It was
really happening!
Citizens were treated to an artist's
conception of the planned structure
on the front page of The Gazette on
Oct. 22. The accompanying account,
still incorrigibly optimistic, said the
work "nears completion." Bids have
been entered for furnishings and
equipment. Over 100 men were at
work (in stark contrast to the other
hundreds who had lost their jobs and
couldn't find any work). The gymna-
sium would be finished first, by
Dec. 1 (but it wasn't). Then would
come the auditorium.
Gradually, in 1932, portions of
the new structure were available for
at least partial use. But what would
become Frank B. Willis High School
would not be finally ready until the
following school year. By that time
the last class to graduate from
Delaware High School would be out
in the world.
The Great Depression
If we are to understand properly
the true history of the Class of 1932,
it must be cast in the context of the
Great Depression. Although our
minds were largely on other things,
that threatening backdrop was al-
ways there, setting the parameters of
our education and our lives. We in
Delaware were part of an immense
upheaval, caused by economic col-
lapse and expressed throughout the
entire structure of society.
Much of the large action took
place elsewhere. President Hoover
that fall proposed a "stupendous
prosperity plan" [Gazette, Oct. 7,
1931], including a fund by the na-
tion's bankers to rescue failing
banks.
It was certainly high time. Major
banks in places like Youngstown
were closing their doors -- with de-
positors' savings inside. In Delaware
the Deposit Banking Company
closed, then the Delaware Savings
Bank. Depositors of course lost ev-
erything they had. There was no
FDIC or FSLIC. This led to the in-
sertion of a front-page accounce-
ment [Gazette, Oct. 24] by the First
National Bank and the Delaware
County National Bank that both in-
stitutions were solvent and open for
business.
The state was heading for a finan-
cial crisis, but so also were other
forms of government, including
school systems. All over Ohio voters
turned down tax and bond issues.
Collection of taxes already on the
books was becoming more and more
difficult as properties and businesses
fell delinquent. After the elections of
November it was feared that some
30 school systems in the state would
have to close. Schools in Marysville
were already closed, although they
expected to reopen in January with
other funds.
The Delaware city council
learned that there would be a large
shortage for operation next year. In
December both police and fire per-
sonnel were without pay until Jan-
uary. The Jane M. Case hospital
[corresponds to unlabeled page 14 of Delaware High School]
As is usually the case in
troubled times, however, things
were not all bad. In spite of its
own very serious financial prob-
lems, Ohio Wesleyan University
laid the cornerstone for
Stuyvesant Hall, freshmen girls'
dormitory, in September 1930.
And in August, 1931 the great
lens for the university's Perkins
Observatory was at last finished
and would be installed the fol-
lowing month.
Wesleyan students -- at
least the girls -- found time and
energy for shenanigans. The
Gazette reported [Nov. 21] that
the freshmen and sophomore
girls had a riot on Winter Street,
complete with hair-pulling and
clothes tearing. The hot issue
was the requirement laid on
freshmen to wear their "bea-
nies." The new girls objected
also to being ducked in the
showers in Monnett Hall and
having their faces plastered
with flour -- favorite devices of
the sophomores for enforcing
the beanie rule.
They fought their way down
Winter Street, cheered on by
the male students. The entire
night police force was unable to
do anything.
At last, when the primal in-
stincts had worn out, both
classes ended by parading vic-
toriously down Winter Street. It
was not quite clear who had
won. Only the police force lost.
For a brief moment you could
forget the Depression.
Also, Eddie O'Keefe of Boy
Scout Troop 96 was awarded
the rank of Eagle Scout by a
Court of Honor. He was the first
in Delaware County to attain
such a level [Gazette, Sept. 16].
1930 was the year when in Au-
gust the Children's Home at the
north end of town was badly
damaged by fire. Reconstruc-
tion would begin immediately.
Some alumni would remember
the grand old man of Delaware
patriotism, Captain R. H. Kel-
logg, Civil War veteran. He was
honored on his 87th birthday
with 87 roses and many letters
from school children [Gazette,
March 5, 1931].
At the end of that month
Notre Dame football coach
Knute Rockne, with eight oth-
ers, died in a plane crash.
Nicholas Longworth, longtime
Speaker of the House of Repre-
sentatives, died a week later.
In April in Columbus a bill to
permit Sunday movies was ap-
proved 71 to 42. And in mid-
summer Billy Sunday ad-
dressed-- if that is the word--
hundreds in William Street
Methodist church gathered for a
dry rally. He was "aged but still
vigorous" and let loose a "rapid
fire line of stories" [Gazette,
July 10.
All in all, it was quite a year
in Delaware, where nothing
much happens.
Chapter 4: Seniors at Last
1931-1932
A New High School
Building -- Almost
Even the Delaware Daily
Gazette seemed to be weary of the
long, drawn-out story. It had very lit-
tle to say of the actual construction.
After a brief restraining suit in June,
which was quickly thrown out, the
lawyers seemed too willing to
let things go ahead. The final razing
of the hulk of the south wing and the
mess of underground preparation
were accomplished.
That fall, high schoolers could
see beginnings on William Street,
watch progress from the old north
wing, and hear the whine of saws
and the clatter of hammers. It was
really happening!
Citizens were treated to an artist's
conception of the planned structure
on the front page of The Gazette on
Oct. 22. The accompanying account,
still incorrigibly optimistic, said the
work "nears completion." Bids have
been entered for furnishings and
equipment. Over 100 men were at
work (in stark contrast to the other
hundreds who had lost their jobs and
couldn't find any work). The gymna-
sium would be finished first, by
Dec. 1 (but it wasn't). Then would
come the auditorium.
Gradually, in 1932, portions of
the new structure were available for
at least partial use. But what would
become Frank B. Willis High School
would not be finally ready until the
following school year. By that time
the last class to graduate from
Delaware High School would be out
in the world.
The Great Depression
If we are to understand properly
the true history of the Class of 1932,
it must be cast in the context of the
Great Depression. Although our
minds were largely on other things,
that threatening backdrop was al-
ways there, setting the parameters of
our education and our lives. We in
Delaware were part of an immense
upheaval, caused by economic col-
lapse and expressed throughout the
entire structure of society.
Much of the large action took
place elsewhere. President Hoover
that fall proposed a "stupendous
prosperity plan" [Gazette, Oct. 7,
1931], including a fund by the na-
tion's bankers to rescue failing
banks.
It was certainly high time. Major
banks in places like Youngstown
were closing their doors -- with de-
positors' savings inside. In Delaware
the Deposit Banking Company
closed, then the Delaware Savings
Bank. Depositors of course lost ev-
erything they had. There was no
FDIC or FSLIC. This led to the in-
sertion of a front-page accounce-
ment [Gazette, Oct. 24] by the First
National Bank and the Delaware
County National Bank that both in-
stitutions were solvent and open for
business.
The state was heading for a finan-
cial crisis, but so also were other
forms of government, including
school systems. All over Ohio voters
turned down tax and bond issues.
Collection of taxes already on the
books was becoming more and more
difficult as properties and businesses
fell delinquent. After the elections of
November it was feared that some
30 school systems in the state would
have to close. Schools in Marysville
were already closed, although they
expected to reopen in January with
other funds.
The Delaware city council
learned that there would be a large
shortage for operation next year. In
December both police and fire per-
sonnel were without pay until Jan-
uary. The Jane M. Case hospital
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 15)
Description
[page 15]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 15 of Delaware High School]
feared it might have to close down.
That month also came a great
"hunger march" on Washington by
the unemployed. The coal fields of
southern Ohio were the scene of
continual unrest, agitation, and suf-
fering. The Hocking Valley Railroad,
which ran its long coal trains
through the western side of
Delaware, was in deep financial
trouble. By April miners and strikers
were in pitched battle near
Zanesville, and the National Guard
was called out.
Right in Delaware the Depression
became more and more evident. The
Gazette ran a full-page ad by the
Bentz Variety Store, which had been
in business for nine years, announc-
ing that it was closing out. "The end
has come." About the same time the
Delaware County Agricultural Ex-
tension Service closed because it had
run out of money.
Rumor multiplied the sense of
disaster. President Soper had to
make a firm official denial of the ru-
mor that Ohio Wesleyan University
would not open in the fall. But there
was cruel substance to the 10 per
cent salary cuts; these following a
first 10 percent cut in the fall of
1931. In addition, thirty faculty posi-
tions were being abolished.
Those were the sad facts. Before
we leave this unhappy story to deal
with the magnificent theme of our
senior year, let us give sober thought
to the effects of depression years on
our lives as students. They are diffi-
cult to measure, partly because we
were affected differently, and partly
because those effects were in large
degree emotional and mental.
The Depression played its part,
for better of worse, in molding our
personalities. Maybe we learned
how to deal with adversity at an ear-
ly age. But from its effects we, even
at our 50th and 60th reunions, are
not yet completely free. Our whole
generation still bends down to pick
up pennies, turn off lights, and save
things.
Some of us escaped largely un-
scathed by hard times. Others of us
saw our fathers out of work, our
families without income and some-
times without shelter, our mothers
desperate to find food bargains, our-
selves or our brothers or sisters de-
prived of the chance to get ahead.
Some of us were marked for life. If
not we ourselves, we saw our neigh-
bors, our friends, our relatives, go
under financially.
Most endured all of it silently --
we didn't talk much about it in class
and cafeteria. But we knew what
was happening to us. There was
pain, but it was private pain, usually
known only in families, which had
yet been taught to seek succor from
the government. There was no un-
employment relief, no social safety
net. Men would work at any job,
crowding out the children who
might have done the work for the
pittance wage.
I spoke of permanent marks.
Some of us learned to shy away
from any personal relationship that
might imply future obligation on
which we might not be able to deliv-
er. Personalities could be stunted as
young people from depressed fami-
lies turned away from anything that
might cost money, might reveal
poverty. We learned not to plan for
the future. Was there any future for
anybody in 1932.?
Overstated? Perhaps, because
there turned out to be a future for
most of us after all. But that was not
at all clear as we worked up toward
commencement. Hope and expecta-
tion, promise and possibility, existed
for us too. But they were exceeding-
ly tender plants.
For escape from rigors of real life
there were the funny papers: "Bring-
ing Up Father," Joe Jinks," "Fritzi
Ritz," "Little Mary Mixup." "Ben-
ny," and "Looie." Or you could read
the daily segment of Robert Terry
Shannon's serial novel, The Love
Trap. When that ran out, it was fol-
lowed by Hazel Livingston's Em-
bers of Love.
If you just had to get out of town
altogether, you could buy a round-
trip ticket all the way to Cleveland
on the Big Four Railroad for $2.35.
It was cheaper, however, to stay at
home and eat a big 5-cent Isaly's ice
cream cone, or really live it up with
whipped cream for 15 cents a pint.
Yet it was our senior year
Did the Class of 1932 succumb to
gloom and depression? Of course
not. After waiting three years we
were seniors with nobody ahead of
us, and only what sometimes
seemed like little kids behind. Well,
there were John Heinlen and John
Sells and David Conrad, to say noth-
ing of junior and sophomore girls of
note. Privately we might admit con-
siderable talent down the line; but
they could wait their turn. We were
the seniors, and everybody better
know it. It was a heady feeling with
the world open before us -- such as
it was. We might even do a lick or
two to fix that!
School opened on Sept. 14, near-
ly two weeks late because of the fi-
nancial crisis. The "Weekly Delhi
Echo," which got under way in the
Gazette on Oct. 3, included Kathryn
Chivington, Margaret Ann Freshwa-
ter, and Helen Johnston on the staff.
Senior class elections were held
on Nov. 7. Frederick Norwood was
elected president, Helen Eagon (who
had tied with Walter Rybolt), vice
president, Gilbert Barnes, secretary,
and Margaret Anne Freshwater, trea-
surer.
In the Girl Reserves Marion Hub-
bard was president, Katherine King
vice president, Esther West, secre-
tary, and Marie Jones, treasurer.
Katherine Beck was president of the
Senior Triangle. She led in such ac-
tivities as the Dad's Banquet, where
she gave the opening welcome. Part
of the program was a skit,
"Courtship under Difficulties," by
Marie Jones, Katherine King, and
Betty Huffman.
Both Newcomb and Barnes were
successively presidents of the Hi-Y,
the other officers being Bob Miller,
Smith Fry, and Dale Main. This or-
ganization, as well as the Girl Re-
serves, had rather overt religious ori-
entation, common enough in public
schools in the earlier 20th century.
The Hi-Y was actually a branch of
the YMCA. Our Yearbook, the Del-
hi, edited by Newcomb, Barnes,
Max Brown, Helen Laird, and Frank
Minelli, with help from several other
seniors, gives more systematic cov-
erage of the school organizations.
A bewildering array of organiza-
tions proliferated. More than a mere
listing here would be boring. Many
of them were old standards. Dramat-
ic Club, with Smith Fry as president
and Violet Knight as vice president,
had 50 members. Several factors, in-
cluding financial stringency, pre-
vented major production; but several
one-act plays and numerous skits
provided entertainment throughout
the school year. The club was unable
to take advantage of the new audito-
rium because it was not available
until the end of the school year, when the
senior play was performed there.
Margaret Marshman was adviser.
The glee clubs, still divided into
girls, boys, upper and freshman
[corresponds to unlabeled page 15 of Delaware High School]
feared it might have to close down.
That month also came a great
"hunger march" on Washington by
the unemployed. The coal fields of
southern Ohio were the scene of
continual unrest, agitation, and suf-
fering. The Hocking Valley Railroad,
which ran its long coal trains
through the western side of
Delaware, was in deep financial
trouble. By April miners and strikers
were in pitched battle near
Zanesville, and the National Guard
was called out.
Right in Delaware the Depression
became more and more evident. The
Gazette ran a full-page ad by the
Bentz Variety Store, which had been
in business for nine years, announc-
ing that it was closing out. "The end
has come." About the same time the
Delaware County Agricultural Ex-
tension Service closed because it had
run out of money.
Rumor multiplied the sense of
disaster. President Soper had to
make a firm official denial of the ru-
mor that Ohio Wesleyan University
would not open in the fall. But there
was cruel substance to the 10 per
cent salary cuts; these following a
first 10 percent cut in the fall of
1931. In addition, thirty faculty posi-
tions were being abolished.
Those were the sad facts. Before
we leave this unhappy story to deal
with the magnificent theme of our
senior year, let us give sober thought
to the effects of depression years on
our lives as students. They are diffi-
cult to measure, partly because we
were affected differently, and partly
because those effects were in large
degree emotional and mental.
The Depression played its part,
for better of worse, in molding our
personalities. Maybe we learned
how to deal with adversity at an ear-
ly age. But from its effects we, even
at our 50th and 60th reunions, are
not yet completely free. Our whole
generation still bends down to pick
up pennies, turn off lights, and save
things.
Some of us escaped largely un-
scathed by hard times. Others of us
saw our fathers out of work, our
families without income and some-
times without shelter, our mothers
desperate to find food bargains, our-
selves or our brothers or sisters de-
prived of the chance to get ahead.
Some of us were marked for life. If
not we ourselves, we saw our neigh-
bors, our friends, our relatives, go
under financially.
Most endured all of it silently --
we didn't talk much about it in class
and cafeteria. But we knew what
was happening to us. There was
pain, but it was private pain, usually
known only in families, which had
yet been taught to seek succor from
the government. There was no un-
employment relief, no social safety
net. Men would work at any job,
crowding out the children who
might have done the work for the
pittance wage.
I spoke of permanent marks.
Some of us learned to shy away
from any personal relationship that
might imply future obligation on
which we might not be able to deliv-
er. Personalities could be stunted as
young people from depressed fami-
lies turned away from anything that
might cost money, might reveal
poverty. We learned not to plan for
the future. Was there any future for
anybody in 1932.?
Overstated? Perhaps, because
there turned out to be a future for
most of us after all. But that was not
at all clear as we worked up toward
commencement. Hope and expecta-
tion, promise and possibility, existed
for us too. But they were exceeding-
ly tender plants.
For escape from rigors of real life
there were the funny papers: "Bring-
ing Up Father," Joe Jinks," "Fritzi
Ritz," "Little Mary Mixup." "Ben-
ny," and "Looie." Or you could read
the daily segment of Robert Terry
Shannon's serial novel, The Love
Trap. When that ran out, it was fol-
lowed by Hazel Livingston's Em-
bers of Love.
If you just had to get out of town
altogether, you could buy a round-
trip ticket all the way to Cleveland
on the Big Four Railroad for $2.35.
It was cheaper, however, to stay at
home and eat a big 5-cent Isaly's ice
cream cone, or really live it up with
whipped cream for 15 cents a pint.
Yet it was our senior year
Did the Class of 1932 succumb to
gloom and depression? Of course
not. After waiting three years we
were seniors with nobody ahead of
us, and only what sometimes
seemed like little kids behind. Well,
there were John Heinlen and John
Sells and David Conrad, to say noth-
ing of junior and sophomore girls of
note. Privately we might admit con-
siderable talent down the line; but
they could wait their turn. We were
the seniors, and everybody better
know it. It was a heady feeling with
the world open before us -- such as
it was. We might even do a lick or
two to fix that!
School opened on Sept. 14, near-
ly two weeks late because of the fi-
nancial crisis. The "Weekly Delhi
Echo," which got under way in the
Gazette on Oct. 3, included Kathryn
Chivington, Margaret Ann Freshwa-
ter, and Helen Johnston on the staff.
Senior class elections were held
on Nov. 7. Frederick Norwood was
elected president, Helen Eagon (who
had tied with Walter Rybolt), vice
president, Gilbert Barnes, secretary,
and Margaret Anne Freshwater, trea-
surer.
In the Girl Reserves Marion Hub-
bard was president, Katherine King
vice president, Esther West, secre-
tary, and Marie Jones, treasurer.
Katherine Beck was president of the
Senior Triangle. She led in such ac-
tivities as the Dad's Banquet, where
she gave the opening welcome. Part
of the program was a skit,
"Courtship under Difficulties," by
Marie Jones, Katherine King, and
Betty Huffman.
Both Newcomb and Barnes were
successively presidents of the Hi-Y,
the other officers being Bob Miller,
Smith Fry, and Dale Main. This or-
ganization, as well as the Girl Re-
serves, had rather overt religious ori-
entation, common enough in public
schools in the earlier 20th century.
The Hi-Y was actually a branch of
the YMCA. Our Yearbook, the Del-
hi, edited by Newcomb, Barnes,
Max Brown, Helen Laird, and Frank
Minelli, with help from several other
seniors, gives more systematic cov-
erage of the school organizations.
A bewildering array of organiza-
tions proliferated. More than a mere
listing here would be boring. Many
of them were old standards. Dramat-
ic Club, with Smith Fry as president
and Violet Knight as vice president,
had 50 members. Several factors, in-
cluding financial stringency, pre-
vented major production; but several
one-act plays and numerous skits
provided entertainment throughout
the school year. The club was unable
to take advantage of the new audito-
rium because it was not available
until the end of the school year, when the
senior play was performed there.
Margaret Marshman was adviser.
The glee clubs, still divided into
girls, boys, upper and freshman
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 16)
Description
[page 16]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 16 of Delaware High School]
classes, had large membership and
continued active. Betty Higley and
Marie Jones were vice president and
secretary of the upper class girls'
group. Polly Perley accompanied
both it and the boys' glee club. Both
of these clubs performed at chapels
and two high school nights.
A double octet, composed of
Fred Reider, Smith Fry, Sherman
Moist, Robert Hartley, Fred Nor-
wood, Robert Newcomb, Frazier
Shipps, Richard Steckel, Helen
Eagon Betty Higley, Betty Huffman,
Helen Shamrock, Violet Knight,
Marie Jones, Katherine King, and
Ruth Vought, did special numbers.
Its first appearance was on Dec. 18
at an assembly in Sanborn Hall,
where it celebrated the Christmas
season with carols. The Dramatic
Club put on a one-act play "Dust of
the Road," with seniors Smith Fry
and Robert Hartley.
The band was very visible as usu-
al under the director of Vayne Galli-
day. It was seen and heard of course
at athletic meets, high school nights,
and over radio station WAIV. A
magazine subscription campaign
helped provide a new bass horn and
much needed repairs on uniforms.
This outfit showed the school colors,
orange and black, more vividly than
other means.
For some reason seniors were no-
tably absent from debate teams.
Moist was almost done. It was an
off year, and both teams lost their
debates. But a new organization, the
Debate Society, came into being.
Communication skills were also pro-
moted through journalism, both in
the Quill and Scroll. The officers of
the later were all seniors, Newcomb,
Hartley, Moist, and Laird.
The Kiwi Club continued to en-
joy large participation of both boys
and girls. Don Mackley was still
prominent in leadership and in mak-
ing and flying model planes. He was
supported by officers Don Johnson,
Eleanor Kissner, and Florence Stet-
son.
There were two strong language
clubs, both so large they had two
sections. The French club was
known as Notre Clique and Entre
Nous. At a meeting in April Paul
Sell gave a report on the role of the
French in the American Revolution.
At another meeting Betty Ropp
spoke on French cities.
The strong showing of Delaware
High School in football and basket-
ball continued in spite of the diffi-
cult change from Coach Mac Barr to
Ervin Carlisle. The latter, well
known in Delaware for his perfor-
mance at Ohio Wesleyan, quickly
whipped the football team, which
had only seven carryovers, into
fighting shape. Junior John Heinlen
worked well with Captain Sell to
bring a season of victory in spite of
a poor start. DHS, in defeating fa-
vored Bexley, 7-2, won second place
in the Central Buckeye League in
which the school now had member-
ship. With Ralph Bright, Bud Ry-
bolt, Bob Miller, Sam Roberts, Chet
Elston, Wayne Hilborn, Cy Fleming,
Max Brown on the team, the seniors
played a dominant part.
The basketball team had a mixed
season, but their performance im-
proved. There were several hard-
fought cliff-hangers. Toward the end
of the season the new gym was more
or less ready and saw both victories
and defeats. One of the new "ene-
mies" in the new league was Cir-
cleville, which now matched
Marysville in rivalry with DHS.
That spring Jesse Brodnax was
again outstanding in track events.
On May 20 he "was easily the star
of the meet" [Gazette] in winning
the 100-yard dash by 10 feet. Ed
Hagaman and Chet Elston also
placed. At the same meet Sell set a
new record in throwing the javelin
162 feet.
In the more formal aspects of ed-
ucation the seniors also left their
mark. In the preliminary Ohio State
Scholarship Contest they took all of
the first five places: Woodbury,
Newcomb, Norwood, Moist, and
O'Keefe. In early May came the
District contest, which included rep-
resentatives from high schools in 16
central Ohio counties. DHS won
third place (after Mount Vernon and
Urbana) in overall achievement.
Twenty-four of Delawrae's 30 repre-
sentatives placed among the upper
10 in various fields. There were four
first places and one second;
Gretchen Huntsberger first in ninth
grade English, William Hollister
first in plane geometry, William
Grube first in world history, and
Newcomb first in 12th grade En-
glish. Since Norwood came in sec-
ond in the same, DHS had the top
two places in senior English. Among
other placers were seniors Barnes,
Woodbury, Skatzes, and Miriam
Rappe.
Of smaller educational signifi-
cance but perhaps more interesting
were some of the personal aspects of
adolescent life. This year, so the
Gazette reported, girls were wearing
dresses with stripes, either vertical
or horizontal. These were embel-
lished with bright scarves and "roll-
your-own" tams. Plus mesh hose.
Boys favored corduroys of bright
colors, some with jackets to match.
The big thing was sewn-in creases.
Probably the most spectacular
performance of the year was that by
Max Rowland in early January,
when in a Thursday first-period
American history class he inadver-
tently lit some kitchen matches in
his pants pocket. None of us had
known Max as such a high stepper.
Some of the seniors were lucky
enough to find part-time work to
help out with family finances. Some
of the girls were babysitting. Hartley
had a dry-cleaning job; Harry
Phillian worked for Miller & Jones;
five seniors had jobs in Bun's
Restaurant; Myron Stegner was de-
livering milk; Helen Laird had a job
at McClellan's Five and Ten.
A springtime flurry of excitement
was stirring in April by news that
Eddie Cantor would judge the beau-
ty contest among six girls, two,
Frances Pearl Jones and Marion
Hubbart, chosen by the student
body, Violet Knight by the seniors,
Esther West by the juniors, Martha
May Galleher by the sophomores,
and Gretchen Huntsberger by the
freseman. All the seniors know how
that came out.
Two big events were the senior
class party on Dec. 11 and the senior
class play on May 20. At the
Delaware Club rooms the Christmas
party featured duets by Betty Higley
and Fred Reider, accompanied by
Katherine King; a skit by Eddie
O'Keefe and Doris Patterson; anoth-
er by Bob Miller and Dick Swearen-
gin; and still another by Bud Rybolt,
Victor Davis, Bob Ludman, James
Wooster, and Chet Elston. Katherine
King gave a reading, and Miss
Dorothy Bussard sang two songs.
After refreshments the evening was
given over to dancing and games.
The senior class play in the new
auditorium was "Seven Keys to
Baldpate." This was the first three-
act play of the year, as well as the
first dramatic performance in the
new building. Here is the review in
the "Weekly Delhi Echo" [28 May].
"Particularly noticeable was the
scenery and lighting effect. With
wind whistling, snow falling, and
[corresponds to unlabeled page 16 of Delaware High School]
classes, had large membership and
continued active. Betty Higley and
Marie Jones were vice president and
secretary of the upper class girls'
group. Polly Perley accompanied
both it and the boys' glee club. Both
of these clubs performed at chapels
and two high school nights.
A double octet, composed of
Fred Reider, Smith Fry, Sherman
Moist, Robert Hartley, Fred Nor-
wood, Robert Newcomb, Frazier
Shipps, Richard Steckel, Helen
Eagon Betty Higley, Betty Huffman,
Helen Shamrock, Violet Knight,
Marie Jones, Katherine King, and
Ruth Vought, did special numbers.
Its first appearance was on Dec. 18
at an assembly in Sanborn Hall,
where it celebrated the Christmas
season with carols. The Dramatic
Club put on a one-act play "Dust of
the Road," with seniors Smith Fry
and Robert Hartley.
The band was very visible as usu-
al under the director of Vayne Galli-
day. It was seen and heard of course
at athletic meets, high school nights,
and over radio station WAIV. A
magazine subscription campaign
helped provide a new bass horn and
much needed repairs on uniforms.
This outfit showed the school colors,
orange and black, more vividly than
other means.
For some reason seniors were no-
tably absent from debate teams.
Moist was almost done. It was an
off year, and both teams lost their
debates. But a new organization, the
Debate Society, came into being.
Communication skills were also pro-
moted through journalism, both in
the Quill and Scroll. The officers of
the later were all seniors, Newcomb,
Hartley, Moist, and Laird.
The Kiwi Club continued to en-
joy large participation of both boys
and girls. Don Mackley was still
prominent in leadership and in mak-
ing and flying model planes. He was
supported by officers Don Johnson,
Eleanor Kissner, and Florence Stet-
son.
There were two strong language
clubs, both so large they had two
sections. The French club was
known as Notre Clique and Entre
Nous. At a meeting in April Paul
Sell gave a report on the role of the
French in the American Revolution.
At another meeting Betty Ropp
spoke on French cities.
The strong showing of Delaware
High School in football and basket-
ball continued in spite of the diffi-
cult change from Coach Mac Barr to
Ervin Carlisle. The latter, well
known in Delaware for his perfor-
mance at Ohio Wesleyan, quickly
whipped the football team, which
had only seven carryovers, into
fighting shape. Junior John Heinlen
worked well with Captain Sell to
bring a season of victory in spite of
a poor start. DHS, in defeating fa-
vored Bexley, 7-2, won second place
in the Central Buckeye League in
which the school now had member-
ship. With Ralph Bright, Bud Ry-
bolt, Bob Miller, Sam Roberts, Chet
Elston, Wayne Hilborn, Cy Fleming,
Max Brown on the team, the seniors
played a dominant part.
The basketball team had a mixed
season, but their performance im-
proved. There were several hard-
fought cliff-hangers. Toward the end
of the season the new gym was more
or less ready and saw both victories
and defeats. One of the new "ene-
mies" in the new league was Cir-
cleville, which now matched
Marysville in rivalry with DHS.
That spring Jesse Brodnax was
again outstanding in track events.
On May 20 he "was easily the star
of the meet" [Gazette] in winning
the 100-yard dash by 10 feet. Ed
Hagaman and Chet Elston also
placed. At the same meet Sell set a
new record in throwing the javelin
162 feet.
In the more formal aspects of ed-
ucation the seniors also left their
mark. In the preliminary Ohio State
Scholarship Contest they took all of
the first five places: Woodbury,
Newcomb, Norwood, Moist, and
O'Keefe. In early May came the
District contest, which included rep-
resentatives from high schools in 16
central Ohio counties. DHS won
third place (after Mount Vernon and
Urbana) in overall achievement.
Twenty-four of Delawrae's 30 repre-
sentatives placed among the upper
10 in various fields. There were four
first places and one second;
Gretchen Huntsberger first in ninth
grade English, William Hollister
first in plane geometry, William
Grube first in world history, and
Newcomb first in 12th grade En-
glish. Since Norwood came in sec-
ond in the same, DHS had the top
two places in senior English. Among
other placers were seniors Barnes,
Woodbury, Skatzes, and Miriam
Rappe.
Of smaller educational signifi-
cance but perhaps more interesting
were some of the personal aspects of
adolescent life. This year, so the
Gazette reported, girls were wearing
dresses with stripes, either vertical
or horizontal. These were embel-
lished with bright scarves and "roll-
your-own" tams. Plus mesh hose.
Boys favored corduroys of bright
colors, some with jackets to match.
The big thing was sewn-in creases.
Probably the most spectacular
performance of the year was that by
Max Rowland in early January,
when in a Thursday first-period
American history class he inadver-
tently lit some kitchen matches in
his pants pocket. None of us had
known Max as such a high stepper.
Some of the seniors were lucky
enough to find part-time work to
help out with family finances. Some
of the girls were babysitting. Hartley
had a dry-cleaning job; Harry
Phillian worked for Miller & Jones;
five seniors had jobs in Bun's
Restaurant; Myron Stegner was de-
livering milk; Helen Laird had a job
at McClellan's Five and Ten.
A springtime flurry of excitement
was stirring in April by news that
Eddie Cantor would judge the beau-
ty contest among six girls, two,
Frances Pearl Jones and Marion
Hubbart, chosen by the student
body, Violet Knight by the seniors,
Esther West by the juniors, Martha
May Galleher by the sophomores,
and Gretchen Huntsberger by the
freseman. All the seniors know how
that came out.
Two big events were the senior
class party on Dec. 11 and the senior
class play on May 20. At the
Delaware Club rooms the Christmas
party featured duets by Betty Higley
and Fred Reider, accompanied by
Katherine King; a skit by Eddie
O'Keefe and Doris Patterson; anoth-
er by Bob Miller and Dick Swearen-
gin; and still another by Bud Rybolt,
Victor Davis, Bob Ludman, James
Wooster, and Chet Elston. Katherine
King gave a reading, and Miss
Dorothy Bussard sang two songs.
After refreshments the evening was
given over to dancing and games.
The senior class play in the new
auditorium was "Seven Keys to
Baldpate." This was the first three-
act play of the year, as well as the
first dramatic performance in the
new building. Here is the review in
the "Weekly Delhi Echo" [28 May].
"Particularly noticeable was the
scenery and lighting effect. With
wind whistling, snow falling, and
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 17)
Description
[page 17]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 17 of Delaware High School]
light dimmed, it was not hard to
imagine that one was atop the moun-
tain at Baldpate Inn, always gravitat-
ing toward the warm, glowing fire,
which blazed at one end of the inn in
a cheery manner. Miss Margaret
Marshman deserves special recog-
nition for the way in which she put
these stage effects across to the au-
dience.
"Frederick Reider, occupying the
center of the stage, kept his audience
amused, while Smith Fry, in a role
entirely foreign to his nature, han-
dled his part with becoming ease.
Marie Jones was charming in a part
that called for little dramatization.
Violet Knight walked away with the
feminine acting honors, managing to
keep the audience looking her way
to see what she might do next.
"Dale Main, in an extremely dif-
ficult role, reminded us somewhat of
Lon Chaney. Every other character
in the play had his or her own partic-
ular atmosphere to create and did so
with amazing ease and noncha-
lance."
Note was taken in the paper that
two of the actors, Wayne Hilborn
and Bob Hartley, were acting in the
place where their houses formerly
had stood but made way for the new
school building.
Before this year-end event, how-
ever, the seniors had "enjoyed" their
various roles in governing the city of
Delaware for a whole day, Thursday,
May 4. A two-party campaign at
school between "conservatives" and
"liberals" resulted in election of
Robert Miller over Sherman Moist
as mayor. Wayne Hilborn won over
Thomas Klee as president of the
council, Margaret Anne Freshwater
over Smith Fry as solicitor, Max
Rowland over Richard Swearengin
as auditor, Harry Phillian over Polly
Perley as treasurer. Members of city
council were also elected.
After filling all the appointive
posts, the seniors took over the oper-
ation of the city for the day amid il-
lusions of power and grandeur
[Gazette).
Winding down
Everything crowded together in
the last days of the school year as
students but especially seniors tried
to wrap it all up -- or rather to wind
down from such frenetic excitement.
In early May came the senior chapel
(the first in the new auditorium), in
which they "bade farewell to their
public school days" and welcome
the new Class of 1936.
In this writer's memory the out-
standing feature was a melodramatic
creation by Frank Minelli and Sher-
man Moist entitled "Sam Sinister's
Revenge." Directing with skill
which suggests comparion with his
older brother's (Vincent) fame in
Hollywood, Frank brought hero,
heroine, dastardly villain, and other
such complex characters to a cliff-
hanging denouement, rescue at the
last minute! Barnes, Moist, Nor-
wood, Davis, and Miller were
conned into participation. Kathryn
Chivington, delivering the prologue
from a safe distance, shared fame
with the all-male cast. This was fol-
lowed by "The Dizzy Baton," direct-
ed by Mrs. Julia Sullivan.
How Principal George Stuart was
able to confer with proper dignity
the several awards and honors in the
midst of all this muck is a mystery. I
guess he did it by coming on first.
Awards were given to all placers in
the District scholarship contest. De-
bate letters went to Moist and some
among the seniors. Cheerleader let-
ters went to Marie Jones and Bus
Austin.
Every day now brought ir-
refutable evidence that the high
school life of the seniors was wind-
ing down. On May 27 there took
place the Junior-Senior Banquet in
the new gymnasium. Margaret Anne
Freshwater's special report to the
Gazette ran as follows:
"The junior-senior banquet held
in the high school gym last night be-
gan at a high tempo with Miss
kathryn King playing some lively
tunes on the piano while the group
found their places. The gym was
decorated in pastel shades of crepe
paper streamers which were hung
from a drop light so as to form a
false ceiling. In each corner of the
room there was a red or green light
trained on the center of the room.
The tables were placed along the
east, south and west walls, while the
orchestra's flower-covered bower
was on the north. Lighted candles,
bouquets of flowers, and streamers
of vari-colored crepe paper decorat-
ed the tables. . . . A program taken
partly from "Alice in Wonderland'
followed the dinner which was
served by the sophomore girls.
"The White Rabbit, John Rine-
hart, was master of ceremonies. The
first number on the program was
'The Mock Turtle's Story' by Lloyd
Morrison, president of the junior
class. It was in the form of a wel-
come to the seniors. Fred Norwood
gave, 'Advice from a Caterpillar.'
Dodo, known to Delawareans as
Frank Minelli, played the 'Saint
Louis Blues' on his trusty friend, the
harmonica.
"Short speeches were given by
Humpty Dumpty, Principal G. W.
Stuart, and the Red King, Supt. R. D.
Conrad. . . . Miss Margaret Marsh-
man gave a talk on the 'Cheshire
Cat' and how he directed Alice to go
in any direction if she didn't care
where she went. Tweedledum and
Tweedledee, the boys' quartet, sang
the 'Little Gray church in the Valley'
and 'My Gal Sal.' This ended the
dinner program.
"The prom followed immediately
after the banquet. The dance pro-
gram followed the style of the dinner
with each dance being named by a
phrase from 'Alice in Wonderland.'
Music was furnished by Held's Or-
chestra. The prom ended at 11
o'clock, bringing to an end the out-
standing function of the high school
year."
Earlier that same day the Year-
book, Delhi, was distributed, and ev-
eryone learned that Pearl was Eddie
Cantor's winner.
The same week saw the final ac-
tivity of the Girl Reserves, the moth-
er-daughter banquet in William
Street church. After installation of
next year's officers came a cafeteria-
style dinner and then a program by
students and mothers with solos, a
mother's quartet, reading and other
features. The banquet ended with
singing "The Quest," "As the phrase
'We cannot be lonely because we
stand together' was sung, the eyes of
the seniors were suspiciously misty."
[Gazette, 28 May].
There was not much left now, as
we staggered into Gray Chapel for
Baccalaureate Sunday evening, May
29. Rev. Stanley Mullen, who gave
the address "Follow the Gleam," was
assisted by several other Delaware
ministers. Prof. G. Raymond Hicks
played the great organ to provide the
processional, "Pomp and Circum-
stance," The girl graduates wore
white dresses and the boys dark
suits.
On Thursday, June 2, the mem-
bers of the Class of 1932 assembled
once again in Gray Chapel, anxious-
ly shepherded by teachers who had
[corresponds to unlabeled page 17 of Delaware High School]
light dimmed, it was not hard to
imagine that one was atop the moun-
tain at Baldpate Inn, always gravitat-
ing toward the warm, glowing fire,
which blazed at one end of the inn in
a cheery manner. Miss Margaret
Marshman deserves special recog-
nition for the way in which she put
these stage effects across to the au-
dience.
"Frederick Reider, occupying the
center of the stage, kept his audience
amused, while Smith Fry, in a role
entirely foreign to his nature, han-
dled his part with becoming ease.
Marie Jones was charming in a part
that called for little dramatization.
Violet Knight walked away with the
feminine acting honors, managing to
keep the audience looking her way
to see what she might do next.
"Dale Main, in an extremely dif-
ficult role, reminded us somewhat of
Lon Chaney. Every other character
in the play had his or her own partic-
ular atmosphere to create and did so
with amazing ease and noncha-
lance."
Note was taken in the paper that
two of the actors, Wayne Hilborn
and Bob Hartley, were acting in the
place where their houses formerly
had stood but made way for the new
school building.
Before this year-end event, how-
ever, the seniors had "enjoyed" their
various roles in governing the city of
Delaware for a whole day, Thursday,
May 4. A two-party campaign at
school between "conservatives" and
"liberals" resulted in election of
Robert Miller over Sherman Moist
as mayor. Wayne Hilborn won over
Thomas Klee as president of the
council, Margaret Anne Freshwater
over Smith Fry as solicitor, Max
Rowland over Richard Swearengin
as auditor, Harry Phillian over Polly
Perley as treasurer. Members of city
council were also elected.
After filling all the appointive
posts, the seniors took over the oper-
ation of the city for the day amid il-
lusions of power and grandeur
[Gazette).
Winding down
Everything crowded together in
the last days of the school year as
students but especially seniors tried
to wrap it all up -- or rather to wind
down from such frenetic excitement.
In early May came the senior chapel
(the first in the new auditorium), in
which they "bade farewell to their
public school days" and welcome
the new Class of 1936.
In this writer's memory the out-
standing feature was a melodramatic
creation by Frank Minelli and Sher-
man Moist entitled "Sam Sinister's
Revenge." Directing with skill
which suggests comparion with his
older brother's (Vincent) fame in
Hollywood, Frank brought hero,
heroine, dastardly villain, and other
such complex characters to a cliff-
hanging denouement, rescue at the
last minute! Barnes, Moist, Nor-
wood, Davis, and Miller were
conned into participation. Kathryn
Chivington, delivering the prologue
from a safe distance, shared fame
with the all-male cast. This was fol-
lowed by "The Dizzy Baton," direct-
ed by Mrs. Julia Sullivan.
How Principal George Stuart was
able to confer with proper dignity
the several awards and honors in the
midst of all this muck is a mystery. I
guess he did it by coming on first.
Awards were given to all placers in
the District scholarship contest. De-
bate letters went to Moist and some
among the seniors. Cheerleader let-
ters went to Marie Jones and Bus
Austin.
Every day now brought ir-
refutable evidence that the high
school life of the seniors was wind-
ing down. On May 27 there took
place the Junior-Senior Banquet in
the new gymnasium. Margaret Anne
Freshwater's special report to the
Gazette ran as follows:
"The junior-senior banquet held
in the high school gym last night be-
gan at a high tempo with Miss
kathryn King playing some lively
tunes on the piano while the group
found their places. The gym was
decorated in pastel shades of crepe
paper streamers which were hung
from a drop light so as to form a
false ceiling. In each corner of the
room there was a red or green light
trained on the center of the room.
The tables were placed along the
east, south and west walls, while the
orchestra's flower-covered bower
was on the north. Lighted candles,
bouquets of flowers, and streamers
of vari-colored crepe paper decorat-
ed the tables. . . . A program taken
partly from "Alice in Wonderland'
followed the dinner which was
served by the sophomore girls.
"The White Rabbit, John Rine-
hart, was master of ceremonies. The
first number on the program was
'The Mock Turtle's Story' by Lloyd
Morrison, president of the junior
class. It was in the form of a wel-
come to the seniors. Fred Norwood
gave, 'Advice from a Caterpillar.'
Dodo, known to Delawareans as
Frank Minelli, played the 'Saint
Louis Blues' on his trusty friend, the
harmonica.
"Short speeches were given by
Humpty Dumpty, Principal G. W.
Stuart, and the Red King, Supt. R. D.
Conrad. . . . Miss Margaret Marsh-
man gave a talk on the 'Cheshire
Cat' and how he directed Alice to go
in any direction if she didn't care
where she went. Tweedledum and
Tweedledee, the boys' quartet, sang
the 'Little Gray church in the Valley'
and 'My Gal Sal.' This ended the
dinner program.
"The prom followed immediately
after the banquet. The dance pro-
gram followed the style of the dinner
with each dance being named by a
phrase from 'Alice in Wonderland.'
Music was furnished by Held's Or-
chestra. The prom ended at 11
o'clock, bringing to an end the out-
standing function of the high school
year."
Earlier that same day the Year-
book, Delhi, was distributed, and ev-
eryone learned that Pearl was Eddie
Cantor's winner.
The same week saw the final ac-
tivity of the Girl Reserves, the moth-
er-daughter banquet in William
Street church. After installation of
next year's officers came a cafeteria-
style dinner and then a program by
students and mothers with solos, a
mother's quartet, reading and other
features. The banquet ended with
singing "The Quest," "As the phrase
'We cannot be lonely because we
stand together' was sung, the eyes of
the seniors were suspiciously misty."
[Gazette, 28 May].
There was not much left now, as
we staggered into Gray Chapel for
Baccalaureate Sunday evening, May
29. Rev. Stanley Mullen, who gave
the address "Follow the Gleam," was
assisted by several other Delaware
ministers. Prof. G. Raymond Hicks
played the great organ to provide the
processional, "Pomp and Circum-
stance," The girl graduates wore
white dresses and the boys dark
suits.
On Thursday, June 2, the mem-
bers of the Class of 1932 assembled
once again in Gray Chapel, anxious-
ly shepherded by teachers who had
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 18)
Description
[page 18]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 18 of Delaware High School]
guided them and put up with them
for four years. Dorothy Bussard
made the great organ shake with the
processional, "War March of the
Priests." Rev. Clarence. S. Gee gave
the invocation and the string ensem-
ble played. James Bevan gave the
class oration, and the upper class
glee clubs sang. Charles M. New-
comb delivered the address, "High
Adventure."
Honors were awarded by Princi-
pal Stuart, especially to Marion Hub-
bard and Robert Newcomb as most
representative girl and boy in the
class. The class was presented by
Superintendent Conrad, and C. C.
Dunlap, president of the school
board, gave out the diplomas. After
the singing of the class song, Rev. D.
Finley Wood pronounced the bene-
diction. For about 100 seniors it was
all over.
And the new high school build-
ing, scarcely used, was waiting for
next year's classes.
[photo of Frank B. Willis High School]
Frank B. Willis High School was completed
during the Delaware High School Class of
1932's senior year. The class of about 100 got
to use very little of the new structure before
graduating in June. The new building, now
used as an intermediate school, began full ser-
vice in the fall of 1932.
[corresponds to unlabeled page 18 of Delaware High School]
guided them and put up with them
for four years. Dorothy Bussard
made the great organ shake with the
processional, "War March of the
Priests." Rev. Clarence. S. Gee gave
the invocation and the string ensem-
ble played. James Bevan gave the
class oration, and the upper class
glee clubs sang. Charles M. New-
comb delivered the address, "High
Adventure."
Honors were awarded by Princi-
pal Stuart, especially to Marion Hub-
bard and Robert Newcomb as most
representative girl and boy in the
class. The class was presented by
Superintendent Conrad, and C. C.
Dunlap, president of the school
board, gave out the diplomas. After
the singing of the class song, Rev. D.
Finley Wood pronounced the bene-
diction. For about 100 seniors it was
all over.
And the new high school build-
ing, scarcely used, was waiting for
next year's classes.
[photo of Frank B. Willis High School]
Frank B. Willis High School was completed
during the Delaware High School Class of
1932's senior year. The class of about 100 got
to use very little of the new structure before
graduating in June. The new building, now
used as an intermediate school, began full ser-
vice in the fall of 1932.
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932 (p. 19)
Description
[page 19]
[corresponds to unlabeled page 19 of Delaware High School]
EPILOGUE
Looking back over this story, I can't help noting two small items.
First, the edition of the Gazette which announced the commencement program
ran a full banner across-the-top headline: "CITY WORKERS' SALARIES CUT 5-25
PERCENT." What a world to be turned loose in! Second, I am troubled by the
unintended symbolism of the stirring processional, "War March of the
Priests." A few years later some of our classmates lost their lives in
World War II. I am not a bit troubled by a third sobering thought: We are
thinning out because we are growing old. The first two were man-made and
part of the burden humans must bear. The last is not of our own doing but a
part of life.
No one can completely recover the "way it was." We have available only
memory and recorded materials. But history properly should include all the
way it was--all of the sense impressions that give life. You can't count on
ephemeral memory even within a short life span. What color were those
absurd "dinkeys"? You can't really see them anymore. Can you really hear
the whistle of the Hocking Valley steam locamotive as it rumbled north
drawing a hundred laden coal cars one sultry summer evening? And then there
is smell. Can you smell the old-time oleo, that ghastly white stuff you had
to convert from pale gob to yellow goop by mixing the color in? Can you
taste new green peas fresh from your backyard garden or the corn on the
cob picked no more than two hours ago? Do you know the feeling of riding
your bike on some shady brick-paved street?
Much of our high school experience consists of these sights, sounds,
smells, tastes, and touches. Some of it is still in our heads. But we are
not too sure about it any more. What was it really like? Maybe this
history will help bring back and preserve some of the real story,
D. H. S. redivivus!
[corresponds to unlabeled page 19 of Delaware High School]
EPILOGUE
Looking back over this story, I can't help noting two small items.
First, the edition of the Gazette which announced the commencement program
ran a full banner across-the-top headline: "CITY WORKERS' SALARIES CUT 5-25
PERCENT." What a world to be turned loose in! Second, I am troubled by the
unintended symbolism of the stirring processional, "War March of the
Priests." A few years later some of our classmates lost their lives in
World War II. I am not a bit troubled by a third sobering thought: We are
thinning out because we are growing old. The first two were man-made and
part of the burden humans must bear. The last is not of our own doing but a
part of life.
No one can completely recover the "way it was." We have available only
memory and recorded materials. But history properly should include all the
way it was--all of the sense impressions that give life. You can't count on
ephemeral memory even within a short life span. What color were those
absurd "dinkeys"? You can't really see them anymore. Can you really hear
the whistle of the Hocking Valley steam locamotive as it rumbled north
drawing a hundred laden coal cars one sultry summer evening? And then there
is smell. Can you smell the old-time oleo, that ghastly white stuff you had
to convert from pale gob to yellow goop by mixing the color in? Can you
taste new green peas fresh from your backyard garden or the corn on the
cob picked no more than two hours ago? Do you know the feeling of riding
your bike on some shady brick-paved street?
Much of our high school experience consists of these sights, sounds,
smells, tastes, and touches. Some of it is still in our heads. But we are
not too sure about it any more. What was it really like? Maybe this
history will help bring back and preserve some of the real story,
D. H. S. redivivus!
Dublin Core
Title
Delaware High School 1928-1932
Subject
Autobiographies-History--Memoirs--Delaware County--Ohio
Depressions--1929--Delaware County--Ohio
Local history--Delaware County Ohio--History
Schools--Delaware High School--1932--Delaware County--Ohio
Depressions--1929--Delaware County--Ohio
Local history--Delaware County Ohio--History
Schools--Delaware High School--1932--Delaware County--Ohio
Description
Frederick Norwood's memories of his high school years (the Delaware High School Class of 1932), describing obstacles such as the Great Depression and the 1929 fire that partially burned Delaware High School.
Creator
Frederick A. Norwood
Date
1928-1932
Rights
http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/
Format
Book
Language
English
Type
Still Image
Text
Text
Identifier
22221033
Collection
Citation
Frederick A. Norwood, “Delaware High School 1928-1932,” Delaware County Memory, accessed December 25, 2024, http://66.213.124.233/items/show/199.