Camden High School — 1919 Purple & Gold Yearbook

Camden High School opened in Camden in 1918 on the corner of Park and Baird Boulevards on land that was part of Forest Hill Park, renamed Farnham Park in 1927. Its first graduating class received their diplomas in the spring of 1919.

In October of 2006, a Camden police officer, Angel A. Nieves, donated a tattered edition of the 1919 Purple and Gold, the school's yearbook, for publication on this website. All of the existing pages are included here. Although the cover was badly deteriorated, the pages were for the most part quite good, and the few imperfections do not diminish the legibility of the book at all.

Several members of the class went on to long and interesting careers in the city and elsewhere, including Frank M. Travaline and T. Carroll O'Brien, and pages exist elsewhere on this site for these individuals. Other pages will be added with links for other Class of 1919 students to and from this page in the near future. There are also links to pages about Camden High principal Clara S. Burrough, and a teacher, Lucy Dean Wilson. As with the students, pages and links will be added as time goes by.

The book is presented in the page order it was published in, with one exception. Six pages of advertisements were at the beginning of the yearbook; these are displayed at the bottom of this page. There are links to be found for many of the advertisers — at this time they can be accessed by the name of the advertiser or by address on the Interesting People page or the Camden Streets page.

Phil Cohen
October 22, 2006

To whom it may concern:

We, the Purple and Gold Staff of the Class of Nineteen Nineteen of the Camden High School, in order to set forth a more complete history of our Class, and more satisfactorily perpetuate our many activities and achievements in the above institution, do herewith present this our official Purple and Gold Annual.

• John M. Wille, ex-officio
• T. Carroll O'Brien, Chairman
• Edith B. Bleakly
• Leonard F. Heintze
• H. Gladys Jackson
• Anna Myers
• John V. Myers
• Herbert P. McAdams
• Julia Rittenhouse
• Edward M. Simmons
• Andrew Stewart
• Lillian Trucksess
• Miriam Tully
• Reed V. Waldron
• James R. Ware
• E. Ruth Ware
• Dora E. Yuschinsky

Class Colors: Blue and Gold
Class Flower: Tea Rose
Class Motto: Venimus, Vidimus, Vicimus

Class Yell:
Rah, bick-a-bah, bick-a-bing, bang-bow-wow;
Yip, ziddy-a-there, get there, stay there;
Vevo-Vivo-Vuvo, vah;
Nineteen-Nineteen-rah-rah-rah.

• Miss Clara S. Burrough, Principal
• Miss Helen M. Bender, B. S., English
• Miss Viola Margaret Blaisdell, A. B., M. A., Mathematics
• Miss Grace E. Brecht, B. S., English
• Mr. Phillips R. Brooks, Physical Director and Coach
• Mrs. Mary McC. Brown, B. S., French
• Miss Flora A. Brugger, Drawing
• Miss Maria E. Bucher, A. B., Stenography and Bookkeeping
• Mr. Walter Carson, A. B., LL. B., Business Law
• Mr. Elmer Conover, B. S., Metal and Shopwork
• Miss Minnie G. Eckels, A. B., A. M., Spanish and French
• Miss Helen H. Evaul, Physical Training
• Miss Grace M. German, A. B., Biology and Physical Geography
• Miss Emily C. Gilliams, B. S., English
• Miss Anna B. Ireland, B. S., Domestic Science
• Miss Cora Jaggard, Commercial Subjects
• Miss Nora A. Kieffer, B. S., A. B., Mathematics
• Miss Edna C. Kyle, A. B., Latin
• Mr. Fay M. Lafayette, A. B., Chemistry
• Miss Mabel Emily Lewis, B. S., Mathematics
• Mr. Donald P. McDonough, A. B., Eighth Grade Subjects
• Miss Cora M. Major, Penmanship and Commercial Arithmetic
• Mr. Charles L. Maurer, A. B., A. M., Social Science and History
• Mr. Henry J. Meder, A. B., French
• Miss Myrtle Emily Nye, Drawing
• Miss Bertha R. Owen, Bookkeeping and Commercial Arithmetic
• Miss Alice G. Owens, A. B., History
• Mr. Leslie A. Read, B. S., A. M., Biology and Physiology
• Miss Alice Mason Reeve, A. B., English
• Mr. Charles T. Reyner, Woodwork
• Miss M. Elizabeth Ritchie, Drawing
• Mr. John Beatty Ritter, A. B., A. M., Latin and Greek
• Miss Lillian A. Scott, Ph. B., English
• Mrs. Charlotte Gravatt Shrader, A. B., Librarian and English
• Miss Harriet Skerrett, A. B., A. M., Ph. D., Latin and French
• Miss Ada Mabelle Stearns, A. B., Commercial Subjects
• Miss Gladys J. Swartley, A. B., English and History
• Mr. William Mortimer Thayer, B. S., Mathematics
• Miss Julia B. Thomas, A. B., French
• Miss Florence Edna Wagner, B. S., Domestic Art
• Mr. Ralph Hathaway White, A. B., A. M., Physics
• Mrs. Lelia D. Wiggins, B. S., Social Science
• Miss Gladys Eleanor Williams, A. B., Mathematics
• Miss Lucy Dean Wilson, Music and Public Speaking
• Miss Helen Marie Woodward, A. B., Public Speaking
• Mr. William H. Wythes, Stenography and Bookkeeping

• Myrtle Ardis having her hair “done up.”
• Edith Bleakly on a midnight frolic.
• Edith Bleakly and Millicent Fleming singing “Whispering Hope.”
• Laura Brown as “Mrs. Malaprop.”
• Dorothy Cann without a case on someone.
• George Cannon with unpressed trousers.
• Harvey Cannon wearing O'Brien's suit.
• David Feldman getting his Shorthand Speed Tests.
• Millicent Fleming without a dried beef sandwich.
• Albert Gerike as the dwarf in a side show.
• Ruth Griffiths without a red nose (in winter).
• Winfield Hahn not making animal noises.
• Leonard Heintze as a Chemistry Professor.
• Margaret Hiltebrand satisfied.
• Gladys Jackson walking to school by herself.
• William King not asleep in class.
• Gordon Kressel in a bathing suit.
• Harry Lukens going to a dance.
• Harry Lutz speaking correct English.
• Herbert McAdams not asking a question in Economics.
• Henry Middleton flunking in Physics.
• Jennie Moore keeping a secret.
• Myra Munyan with the lockjaw.
• John Myers getting to school on time.
• Carroll O'Brien with nothing to do.
• Clement Parsons not raising Cain.
• Alvan Paschall without a joke to tell.
• Myer Pinsky as a Minister.
• Violet Side with a pink card.
• Edward Simmons acting with any degree of sense.
• Andrew Stewart with his themes written on time.
• Gertrude Tilley with nothing to say in Shorthand Class.
• Lillian Trucksess without ink on her shirtwaist.
• Miriam Tully with a flushed face.
• Reed Waldron taking books home to study.
• James Ware getting less than 90 in a test.
• Jack Wille without his Homer.
• Winifred Wheaton not grinning.
• Dora Yuschinsky with a grouch.
• A good meal at the lunch counter.

Here's to our happy graduates, noble men and true.
I think they are examples for such as me and you.

“Grif” Ratcliffe was a singer and a football player too;
He learned to kick so awful hard they had to let him through.

When Paschall his diploma got, the audience they looked shocked
And someone yelled, “For goodness sake, who left the gates unlocked?”

Westney, our loyal Ty Cobb, took a bat and straight
Knocked his average up so high he had to graduate.

Bishop played the Piccolo, fine I have no doubt;
But they gave him his diploma to make him cut it out.

Heintze got his “sheepskin” and went down to the bay,
Bought a boat named Gladys and quickly sailed away.

Sig. Ertner smokes tobacco, (it seems to be his fate);
Since he can't get by with that out here, they let him graduate.

George Cannon is a pool shark; he asks everyone to shoot;
He won his diploma and fourteen dollars to boot.

Pinsky will be a doctor; he loves to feel the bones;
He whispered seven quickly and fled the Senior Zones.

James Ware, our local tall man, studied, argued and pled,
Until he made the highest marks and came out way ahead.

“Plank” Plaskett is a noble man, I know it's true; and yet
He won his “dip” by looking wise and being teacher's pet.

McAdams studied hard, they say, and yet it should be stated
He typewrites for the teachers; that's why he graduated.

“Ted” Stewart is our champion athlete: I swear that this is true,
But now since he has left the school, what will she ever do?

DeMoyer is a husky lad; alas, we sob to state
That fear won't let us tell you how he did graduate.

Jack Wille, a noble youth, to judge from your sweet looks,
The knowledge by which you graduate, was never learned in books.

Kressel plays a violin, and to get rid of the same,
The teachers grabbed his sheepskin and quickly wrote his name.

Fred Outcalt turns a dumbbell in a way to make one fear.
So the teachers let him graduate to make it safe out here.

O'Brien is our daffodil, our peerless Irish rose,
He ran a race with flunking and won out by a nose.

Ed. Wilson is a doctor, and once he let it slip
He doctored up his daily grades; that's why he won his “dip.”

Liberman says he'll graduate, but here's where we must holler,
If credits cost five cents apiece, he'll have to spend a dollar.

I'm going to tell about Bill King, but don't you go and blow it,
He won his “dip” by simple bluff, but the teachers do not know it.

Gerike was on our track team, as agile as a cat,
He got his “dip” and ran a mile in just one minute flat.

Ed Simmons will be a lawyer; he must have argued fine
When he got his diploma and joined our happy line.

This is the truth about some of the boys,
Who danced the diploma step.
They belong to the 1919 Class,
The Class with the “Pep” and “Rep.”

Nineteen class excels in ball,
In hockey, tennis, and in all.
Night or day this class outshines
Every class we have in mind.
Time will prove their worth, I know,
Every day they'll stronger grow
Ever loyal, ever true,
Nineteen nineteen, that is you.

Nineteen is a class unique,
In basketball it can't be beat.
Nineteen is a class that's fine,
Earnest, loyal, true, and kind.
Times are many the writer can say,
Each one has cheered her on her way.
Ever loyal, ever true,
Nineteen nineteen, that is you.

I used to wonder why Seniors complained of having so little time for amusements or even for their studies. Now, alas, I know only too well, for the Deluge seems to have descended upon me.

Even in the Fall I found it hard work to go out for hockey two days a week, attend the “movies” another day, read current magazines and books, and then find time for the study of five lessons a day. But after Christmas I think it was that the real rush began. Examinations loomed up on the horizon with ominous rumblings for the poor souls who were plugging away at that “bete-noire” physics.

As far as I was concerned, the physics examination was a battle royal, on account of which I lost four pounds in weight. Luckily we are not required to take such a test every day, or I would soon be a pale shade ready for Orcus.

Now it is almost time for our final examinations. But before they can take place, we must undergo five preliminary trials, our regular tests. Anyone who takes but four subjects a day and who enters into no activities at school, may easily sit back with folded hands and await the “Judgment Day.” But ah me! those whose lot it is to participate in the Glee Club Concert and serve on School Annual and Class Day Committees can appreciate the weariness to which I am succumbing.

The Glee Club is one of the chief causes of my relapse. If this seems incredible, try sitting down for a three-hour rehearsal, especially if you have already devoted two previous nights to lectures or something of that sort. Now, indeed, do I know why Saturday mornings were made. They were created in order that Seniors might recuperate after five days of strenuous action.

With only about nine or ten more recitation days left, I have to write a painstaking theme for Mr. Read, work on the Class Day program, finish five experiments in the time set aside for two, and attend five rehearsals. When I am to study, is the unsolvable mystery.

I am so sleepy that everything seems to be going around in a whirl.

I no longer hear the announcements in the auditorium in the mornings. Like the dormouse, I only wake up when something extraordinary cuts the magnetic fields of force adjacent to my brains.

My hand is so numb my pen is slipping. I have forty lines of Vergil to prepare and an English theme to compose, but I'm too tired to write.