Student Poem Written In Early 1950s

Seymour Herald - 28 January 2010

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Seymour High School Poem

Listen my children and you shall hear

Of times now past but still held dear,

At Seymour High, oh! What a yen

To be half as smart again

As I thought I was through my senior year.

E. O. Berge was the big shot down there

To judge or to counsel, a fellow most fair

He'd outshine most coaches with plenty to spare

At yankin' up trouser legs, none could compare

And I'd not for a minute have anyone think

He didn't turn more than a delicate pink

When some of us managed to get in his hair.

Ruth Henderson, teacher and principal, too

'Twas her keepin' at us that pulled us through

(You know) I'll bet when she gets to heaven's gate

She'll have her excuse as to why she's late

She'd had to pack all her bugs and her cook books too.

Maurice Stamps is a fellow I shall never forget

My ain't and my tain'ts didn't make me his pet.

He was a whale of a football coach.

Turned out track men above reproach

We seniors at play time could sure make him sweat.

Now that music man's name was something like Meyer

Of tootin and singin he just never did tire

He's wield that baton both this way and that

Or suddenly yell, "Can't you tell you're flat?"

But for him we marched on through dust or thru mire.

Now under Miss Banning my time was well spent

Tho' I don't just recall who was the 1st president.

She got all the news, right in the makin'

And oh! how she struggled with that picture takin!

With less than the best she would not be content.

By golly, there's one thing I sure owe to Max (Akers)

How to add and subtract for Uncle Sam's tax

He went a courtin' and did all right

Taught his teams to sew the games up tight

How he thrilled when he heard us yell, "Give 'em the ax."

There was one, name Gray who was sharp as a knife

Sure knew his business you bet your sweet life

He's say, "Now you debit this, you credit that"

Gave me a typewriter that couldn't spell cat.

I wonder if he ever found him a wife.

From down in Missouri came another big man

For Manual Arts teachers you couldn't beat Dan

He was the one that taught us to drive

Believe it or not he came out alive

Course when he drove along all the people ran.

To join these teachers--maybe just for sport

Iowa State sent its mayor to Pammel Court

He taught us Ag's alll the charm

To be found alivin' on the farm

And I'll tell you, for words, he never was short.

Then there was a teacher, how could I forget

Always writin that shorthand--bet she is yet

All right, Calm down and I mean you

Course she talked louder than any two

She as one of the funniest people I ever met.

Oh! but it's not just the teachers that I can recall

I liked the homecomings we had every fall

That place was a riot carnival night

I worked on the banquet with all my might

Oh, I'd stew and I'd fret but I loved it all.