My grandmother graduated from Washington High School in Two Rivers, Wisconsin, in 1946 The school no longer exists and the building has been demolished, but photos from my grandmother’s time there have survived, including graduation day. She also wrote an undated essay about her graduation that I will include in full.
The Alumnae Look On
Last Friday night was “Homecoming Night” in Two Rivers. This annual event during the football season is as much a part of fall as the frosty nights and colored leaves are. The boys and girls of Washington High School were all prepared with trucks, signs, purple and gold crepe paper, and plenty of school spirit for a festive time. My girl friends Nappy, Bubbles, and Poodles (we have inscrutable nick names for each other) and I decided that we would go to see the parade and bonfire. We were curious to see if Hamilton High School’s homecoming would be just as good without the class of ’46! We also wanted to see the big bonfire which would be lit afterwards in the middle of Main Street. Our homecomings had had to without a bonfire for it happened that the four years we had been in high school had been war years and paper was too scarce for us to waste by sending our homecomings up in smoke.
We dressed in our oldest blue jeans, our gay lumber jack shirts, and sailor hats and set out for a gay time. The chilly autumn air was crisp and invigorating and it made us feel full of pep for it, too, seemed to have captured the spirit of this exciting night.
We hurried, for the parade was already underway. The strains of a lively march played by the band were piercing the clear fall air. My gay spirit sank a little when I saw the band march past. For four years my clarinet and I had been faithful members of the school band and it made me feel a little sad to see them march on without me. Following the band were trucks loaded with boys and girls shouting out the glories of the Purple Raiders and throwing streamers of purple and gold ribbon in the air. Through all the noise and confusion of laughing, cowbells ringing, and cheering we heard the threats—“We’ll mow ‘em down”; “Rickford, here we come”—and bits of the school song penetrating the air.
Speeches about football and the team were given in front of the Community House by the members of the class of ’47. My girl friends and I found it hard to concentrate on what was being said. Year after year the same thing was said in those homecoming speeches, but somehow they had meant something more to us when our classmates were up there giving them and our friends were on the team. We looked around for the class of ’46. There were a few there—scattered among the crowd. When the cheerleaders led the cheers and songs we tried to join in, but somehow our enthusiasm with which we had started out with was gone. A knot of girls had got together in a huddle and were giving out with a lusty “U Rah, Rah, seniors!” A group of juniors followed suit with a vivacious hurrah for juniors. We wanted to shout “U Rah Rah, Alumni,” but we were minus the alumni.
Suddenly, just as the student spirit was fully ignited, red flames shot up into the black sky. The bonfire was lit! Sparks dances like fireflies. The fire warmed us both externally and internally. We felt better now and our spirits lifted like the flames. Yes, our high school days were over. They had been fun, but now we had even more to look forward to than just homecomings. Our future was ahead of us. We agreed unanimously—“It’s great to be alumnae!”
unpublishedhistory 