FEBRUARY CLASS SONG
Tune: "Some Sunday Morning"
Dear Wilson High School,
It's time to say goodbye;
Seems we just came here,
O
how time did fly;
But in our memory,
We'll cherish thee still,
A place in our hearts you'll fill.
We'll ne'er forget our teachers
The friends that we've made here
We'll always think of the good times
With those who to us are now dear.
Dear Wilson High School
From thee we now go
To try to be an honor
To you who've helped us so
To answer life's call
We're now leaving you
Farewell to the Orange and Blue.
A Tribute To Our Alma Mater
That morning, May 5, 1946, when we were confronted with the startling news of the fire at Wilson, we were confused by a whirlpool of mixed emotions. At first we could not believe the reports. Then we were curious to see the actual damage. We were amazed at the destruction. We were alarmed at the possibility of not having commencement as scheduled. We even laughed at jokes about having to burn the school down to get us out. Then as the realization of the loss sank in, we grew silently sorrowful as if a very close friend had suddenly become seriously ill. But the real grief did not penetrate into our hearts until a few days later when we went into Wilson to take away our books.
What a heartbreaking day that was when we actually saw the ruin. I, for one, was deeply affected by the dark halls, the charred walls, black and blistered, the thick, clinging odor of the smoke, and worst of all, the shattered remains of the wrecked auditorium.
Can this really be you, Wilson?" I thought. Is this not a terrible nightmare resulting from a newsreel showing a bombed European town? Are these dreary, dark, quiet corridors the same halls once so bright and cheerful with the sounds of carefree young voices, the shuffling of feet, the banging of locker doors? Is this wreckage you, Wilson? Is it really you?"
As we walked away from the scorched building, we, who hoped to graduate in June, felt particularly depressed because we knew that we would be forced to say good-bye to the school which had been such an important part of our lives for nearly four years.
Within a few days we moved our books and our equipment into the Navy Yard, and here in Barracks A classes began. Soon our studies were progressing as usual. Sports were going full swing. Workers on the Annual and Student Staffs were buzzing around trying to make up for lost time. Classes held elections, and the music department had its spring festival. Gradually we realized that we had not said goodbye to Wilson after all. Before we knew it, the spirit of Woodrow Wilson High School was right with us here in Barracks A.
We now understand that Wilson High isn't only bricks and wood and steel and stone. Fire has damaged these things, but nothing can deface the loyal comradeship, the traditions, the ideas which really mean Wilson. True we now eat "chow" in the "mess hall" instead of lunch in the cafeteria. We walk on the "deck," instead of the floor. But we still belong to Wilson High School. We were close to the truth when we wondered, "Is this really you, Wilson?"
No, the pitifully mutilated building was not really Wilson High School. The real Wilson High School came to the Navy Yard with us. "Wilson High is us!" We seniors did not say good-bye to her now. For just as our Alma Mater followed us when we temporarily abandoned her home, she will stay with us now as we receive our graduation diplomas.
Indeed, we each take part of her with us as we embark upon our individual lives. No matter what changes are made with the reparation, she is a part of us, we a part of her. Knowing this we must try to add only more splendor to her already glorious fame. As we each show our contributions to life and humanity, we must all be a credit to her. We must remember not only the material knowledge but also the other things we learned at Wilson, those things not printed in text books ~ honesty, self-control, perseverance, loyalty, and all the high qualities Wilson encourages in us.
We are truly grateful for all Wilson has taught us, for the friendship she has given us. In return we pledge, in the words of our school song:
"Honor, faith, and deep devotion,
Wilson High, to you.
ROSALIE SCHLITZ-1946.
