Mount Vernon High School, Alexandria Virginia, Class of 1960 Last Will and Testament for the Class of 1961
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[ Editor's Note: This is a faithful retyping of the original document.
All spelling errors and other typos (AND THERE ARE PLENTY!) remain unchanged, except for proper names, which have been corrected ]

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

I, Terry Abel, bequeath to lucky Mt. Vernon, Sherry.

I, Norma Alvey, leave to my brother, Jimmy, the hope that he'll run fast and go far in his Senior year.

I, Betty Anderson, leave my illegible Civics notes to anyone who would like them.

I, Gary Anderson, being of sound mind, and lucky, leave Mt. Vernon.

I, Patricia Archer, bequeath my amazing dexterity to the art of thumb wrestling to the many times defeated Erin Fleming.

I, Larry, Armbruster, leave my ability to avoid doing mechanical drawing in said class to anyone who needs to study as much as I did. I further leave my ability to acquire the words on the vocab tests to all those who need it as badly as I did.

I, Jim Aschenbach, bequeath to William Thornton my equipment and talents.

I, John Austin, being of feeble mind (so Mama Jane says), bequeath my vast knowledge of English, literature and my serious nature to Jane Fields.

I, Susan Austin, leave "Beaver" in the hopes that it doesn't follow me to college.

I, Audrey Aylor, bequeath to my sister, Dorothy, my quiet way of getting from class to class, for she can be heard miles away.

I, John Campbell Bane, Jr., hereby bequeath the Guidance Office to the present Junior Class for their confusement and confoundment.

I, Kendall Barnes, do hereby demise the following: To John Briar, I leave all my "Nixon for President" buttons with the sincere desire that he will have no future use for them. To John Briar, Jerry Kerr, and Mr. Musser, I leave my mature and intelligent understanding of the Cuban situation. To anybody who desires peace and quiet, I do not leave Gale Remington.

I, Carol Bateman, leave handcuffs to all the couples of next year.

I, Patsy Barker, leave the "good times" we had in John Briar's office, to the secretaries of the next Senior Class President, with the sincere hope that they never caught-'cause we didn't.

I, Velda Barker, leave my desk in Phys. Ed. to the unlucky person who gets out of taking Phys. Ed. next year, in hopes that they will use it as well as I did.

I, Bruce Barnett, do bequeath all my worldly possessions to the rising Senior Class. I would like to leave Mt. Vernon with a clear conscience, so I have decided to pay all my library fines, which will make Mr. Robinson very happy.

I, Barbara Barton, bequeath to Charlotte Twombley my locker, hoping that she has better luck with it than I did. To my sister, Sharon, I leave my "blond" civics teacher, Mr. Hatch, on the condition that she bring him an egg-salad sandwich at least once a week.

I, Pamela Bernardo, being thoroughly brainwashed, I leave my extremely mixed emotions to the rising Senior Class. In addition, I leave my "never been touched" privilege card, my labor stained English notebook, and my ability to sprint to the lunch line.

I, Lorraine Bernier, leave my ability to pass the barriers without being detected.

I, Sandra Bigger, will my enthusiasm for homework and my inability to keep an average attendance in school to Gloria Burkholder, who is in need of neither.

I, Fred Bishopp, will to the rising Senior Class the many privileges they may receive as seniors of Mt. Vernon High School.

I, Susan Blaisdell, leave my job to Sharon Mizcll.

I, Randy Bonner, being of sound mind and body, leave nothing to the school except the absence of my presence.

I, Janet Boone, bequeath my tap dancing abilities to Mr. Musser. To Mr. Cohen, I leave my ability to rock my way through "breathless" movies, eat fish and chips under a pagoda, and to dance to Greek bouzoukia music. I leave the Honor Society Book Store to any member who cannot stand the pleasant cafeteria atmosphere. And last, I leave my status as "Ilya" to any Junior girl so inclined...

I, Connie Brennan, bequeath: Typewriter #83 in Room 112 to Mrs. Cooley, my pompoms to Elaine Gilroy, my bruised feet to the riders of Bus 135, and my good times to Mt. Vernon High.

I, John Briar, bequeath to all those who may need it, my ability to engage in a controversy with Mrs. Gates and always emerge the winner .... To Mrs. Gates, I leave our little "private joke" so she might destroy it so that never again will she be haunted by its contents.

I, Kathie Brewer, leave the proofreading of the yearbook to next year's editor. To Steve Chapman, I leave my inability to study in yearbook study hall, in the hopes that he will put it to good use next year.

I, Abram Thomas Brown, on leaving Mt. Vernon, wish to leave one last thought-Four score and seven years ago I came to this wonderful school and, four score and seven years later I'm leaving.

I, Gene Brown, leave to all my teachers I never made, to Richard Knight, I leave four roses and a crutch.

I, Suzie Brown, bequeath my undying procrastination to some lucky Junior who has the great good fortune of having Mrs. Cooley for English so that he, too, may stay up all night studying Macbeth, starting the notebook which is due the next day, reading five books due the next day, and searching desperately for his little brother's Classic Comic Books.

I, Doug Browne, bequeath to Janet Cowen, one pot of hot coffee. To Mrs. Blalock, I leave many more noisy study halls.

I, Phil Bruce, bequeath to the rising Senior Class our fabulous Senior Day on a Saturday.

I, Michelle Brumble, bequeath my great struggles through English with Mrs. Cooley, to any Junior who so desires. To Mr. Musser, the Genius, I will back the magnifying glass with which he read my notes.

I, Jimmie Sue Burt, bequeath my never used parking place and my experience in Dramatics to any deserving person.

I, Thomas Burton, leave what remains of my textbooks to Mount Vernon High.

I, Ronald Cadel, leave to Mount Vernon, Mr. industry "man" Nurse. Through the toils and heartaches of my last year, he has made it harder.

I, Harold Carr, leave! leave! leave!...I hope I leave.

I, Jim Carr, leave my "desert boots" to Mrs. Cooley to award them to any rising Senior who would like to wear them to Graduation in '62. I further leave: my taste in clothes to Bill Thornton, my ability of never having been able to dunk the ball to John Chapman, and to his brother, Steve, I leave my collection of pipes.

I, Bernice Carter, bequeath to one of Miss Hopkin's future students, my ability to sing somewhere between 1 sharp and U flat.

I, Arnold Cash, leave to Coach Miller and his right hand man Snyder, that indomitable spirit of a winner. I hope the boys keep this spirit sacred on the field and not in the beer hall.

I, Butch Cash, leave to Coach Miller one undefeated football season and one 6'4", 220 lb. tackle. To Coach Yednock, I leave a hard hitting, fancy fielding good sportsman shortstop.

I, Carol Cash, bequeath my worn out drill team shoes to anyone with feet large enough to fill them and my whistle to anyone "Windy" enough to blow it. To my sister, Joyce, I leave my ability to mess up poetry recitations in Mrs. Blalock's English Class.

I, Julie Chovanec, leave my ability to remember things I'm supposed to do, to Robyn Rettgers.

I, Rosemary Clemmer, leave my ability to be accepted by many colleges to Diane Hall.

I, Faye Coates, leave my English notes, homework habits, and ability to almost pass a test, to Warren Smith and Jimmy Stiles.

I, Bob Coleman, bequeath to my brother, Don, all the good and bad experiences that go with sharing his last name with an older brother.

I, Dick Comerford, leave my warm spot on the football bench as well as my "nick names to some deserving person.

I, Grove Conrad, leave my ability to criticize, laugh at, and admire, Lea Christensen's homemade skirts to any underclassman who appreciates them.

I, Lance Edward Cook, bequeath to the Junior Class, that great teacher, "Curly" Hatch and his timely lectures on communism. To Mrs. Robinson, I leave the memories of "Uncle Woodshed".

I, Janet Cowen, leave my ability to do things one day late to all those who do things one day early.

I, Marsha Cowley, will my Florida tan, term paper, and slightly used privilege card to Joyce Cash.

I, Jan Crabtree, leave my lungs and whistle to the Drill Team. To Rick Oginz, I leave all of my Jantzens in the hopes of helping him remain collegiate.

I, Douglas Craven, bequeath to anyone who wants it, my relationship with Mrs. McFarland. I bequeath upon myself my vocabulary lists in hopes that they serve better next year than they did this year.

I, Jack Creasy, leave Mrs. Cooley one worn out typewriter and an instruction booklet entitled "Learn to Type".

I, Jack Daniel, leave a bowl of rice to Marina Conception.

I, Carolyn Daugherty, leave my worn erasers, old books, the hard work, and sleepless nights to the rising Senior Class.

I, Jennifer Davies, bequeath my three pet monkeys, See no evil, Hear no evil, Speak no evil, to Mr. Hatch. To Mr. Cohen, I leave a free ticket to New York and a pass to any show on Broadway-if he'll come. To any underclassman, I leave my locker combination: 27-42-*!#?

I, Delores Davis, leave to Howard Dailey Nottingham, my commencement announcements because I will not be needing them.

I, Patricia Davis, bequeath my unfailing impassiveness to any pining Senior girl.

I, Claude Dean, leave my athletic ability to Mickey Compagna, my dramatic ability to Pat Jones, and a slightly used plug of Brown Mule, may it bring him as much wisdom and power as it brought me.

I, Calvin Deemer, leave bus 135 to Mr. Robinson. To John Travers, I leave the milk crate on this bus.

I, Roy Demory, being of questionable mind, bequeath all my worldly possessions to Mount Vernon, with the understanding that I may have them back next year, should I return.

I, Paul DeVoll, bequeath to all fractious factions the privilege of divesting themselves of their self esteem in order to pass English.

I, Bill DeVor, leave my fantastic linguistic ability to my sister, Jo, along with the thought that she may progress at the same rate (well, maybe a slightly faster rate), than I did the very able direction of Miss Laura Lanks. One afterthought: On the other hand, Jo, I think you'd be better off taking Spanish!

I, Steve De Zulovich, leave all my bad gambling debts payable to Mr. Robinson.

I, Diane Dickinson, gladly leave the rising Senior Class my long hours of homework. I leave to Mrs. Cooley's future classes, my sympathy and understanding.

I, Delores Dickerson, leave my unused privilege card to Carolyn Cline, in hopes that she will find a better use for it. To Barbara DeGom, I leave my ability to be late for class.

I, Candy Dilliard, being of high mind, do bequeath a map of my favorite haunts in Washington, D.C., to Maureen Anl [Aul] and Judy Moran; and to David Cook, the ice machine behind Lloyd's.

I, George Dittmer, leave all my interesting poetry notes to my brother, Gary, who is almost as interested in poetry as I am!

I, Gail Dodge, bequeath untold numbers of trash baskets full of unrecognized masterpieces to Mrs. Locke.

I, Sue Donovan, will my old Drill Team pom-poms to anyone who can't figure out how to make them. I also will my Vocab sheet to anyone who can put them to better use.

I, Ted Doran, bequeath all of my unused tape as well as my taper, to next year's football team.

I, Gary Dotson, being of sound but often somnolent mind, bequeath my supply of sleeping pills still good for several years of dozing in class, to any student who will trade them for a supply of benzadrine tablets sufficient for my next four years of exam cramming.

I, Philip S. Downs, Jr., will my half used eraser and suffering to all future typing classes. However, most of all, I leave my thoughts, never to be forgotten.

I, Ronald Duell, being of sound body and possibly sound mind, leave to the rising Senior Class, the sheer luck of squeaking through two semesters of Mrs. Cooley's English.

I, Pete Duncan, hereby leave to good, olde Em Vee Hi, "all the treasures it holds for me as I hold it." Ah, yes, I will never forget good olde Em Ve hi.

I, Jeanette Dunn, will Mr. Hatch and all his little jokes, to the rising Senior Class.

I, Annette Dyer, bequeath my doubtful dancing techniques to any one with the audacity to use them. I also leave my ability to read through all my classes in complete oblivion to Sharon Hennesey, because I know she won't.

I, Jim Edenton, leave my teachers and the books that go with them, to my brothers.

I, Norma Evans, leave to Sharon Barton, all my trouble in English Class with the Vocab words and hope that she has better luck. I sincerely hope that someone will take pity on him and bring him an apple a day.

I, Courtney Stewart Faught, leave to Bob Pergler and John Valiante, my "taxi service", and to Bill Curtis, my M.V. beanie. To the rest of the "Waynewoodites", I leave the hope of becoming Seniors.

I, David Fewell, leave to Mount Vernon, my beloved bus 102, in perfect condition but without fuel. To Mr. Steinbach, I leave a worn out tuba and a mutilated string bass.

I, Rosemary Fischer, leave all of my Senior privileges to any Junior smart enough to figure out what they are.

I, Thomas Flynn, leave all my ultra conservative views to Mr. Cohen in hopes that someday he might become a little more pro American.

I, Joyce Foster, bequeath to Peni Torbert, my inability to understand French when spoken "rapidment".

I, James Freeman, leave my motorcycle, HiFi, and poor study habits, to some rising Senior in hopes that he may learn his lessons better than I did.

I, Douglas Frye, will my Senior subjects to those in the future who think they've got it easy.

I, Dave Galanti, will to any unfortunate person who comes to Mount Vernon, all the luck in the world, because they will need it.

I, Andy Garverick, after two years of enchanting happiness, do hereby bequeath my leading role in Mrs. McFarland's hectic life to anyone who will be blessed by her paramount instruction in the future years.

I, Pamela Geisinger, bequeath my Oxnard gym suit to Oxnard High School, California. I also will my inability to speak French to Mary Otany, who lives in California.

I, John Ghent, bequeath my comparable command of Spanish to any of Senor Vaughn's erudite scholars to whom it may be of value.

I, Bill Gillam, will my bad luck to the most enterprising Junior.

I, Fern Girard, leave one slightly used piece of chewing gum and all of Mrs. Cooley's notes to the waste basket.

I, Rick Glassen, will to any Senior, my inability to spell as testified by Mr. Cohen and my good fortune of always being first to recite the memory work in Mrs. Coo1ey's class.

I, Janice Gleasoy [Gleason], being of sound but tired mind, do leave my sleepless nights, spent studying, to the rising Seniors in hopes that they may better organize their time.

I, Linda Gothard, leave to some lucky rising Senior girl, the errands I ran for the Guidance Office.

I, Jamie Gough, III, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath my heart and soul to Mrs. Catherine B. Cooley, for she has commanded them through out the year.

I, Elizabeth Grawey, hope to lave Mount Vernon High School on June 15, 1961.

I, Margie Greene, leave the expenses of graduation that I have carried for two years.

I, Don Hacker, bequeath my great ping pong ability to Bruce Cook.

I, Martha Halley, bequeath to all the girls, and Emily, who may be the only girl in a mechanical drawing class of nineteen boys, all the good times I have had in there this year.

I, Becky Hannah, being of fatigued mind and body, hereby leave to Lynn Freeman, all my babysitting jobs with the "Freeburgs". To my sister Harriet, I leave my position on Varsity Cheerleading, and to Mrs. Cooley, I leave my sister Harriet. Lastly, I leave to Danny Nase, many unfilled plans.

I, Jean Harlow, will my Virginia government to my brother, Jerry. I leave all my erasers to Judy, my sister.

I, Joyce Harn, leave to Anne Ireland my ability to successfully grasp a one year math course in no less than two years. I also leave, my most prized possession, my desk next to Mr. Miller's in 118.

I, Patricia Harper, leave my over-used expression "Awk" to any rising Senior who finds occasion to use it during times of confusion and frustration.

I, Sandy Hartman, bequeath my outstanding knowledge of physics to any rising physics students lucky enough to fall into the clutches of Mr. Maskalenko.

I, Richard Hays, in co-operation with Frank Skidmore, John Bane, and Charles Tuegel, bequeath four adjacent desks in Mr. Musser's Civics class to any four young gentlemen who feel they are capable of running said teacher to the brink of insanity and get away with it. To all rising Seniors, watch for the pitfalls of forgetting to sign one's name in Mrs. Cooley's class.

I, Sandy Heard, gladly will my ability to get caught doing anything to any deserving underclassman.

I, Margaret Heflin, bequeath to all future Musser students, a boat to travel to and from Q-A during the rainy season, a pair of nose plugs in case the rats return, and to any student who might hail from Kansas, the title of "Sunflower".

I, Gary Heintzelman, being fo [of] sound mind, cheerful, joyous, blissful in my old age, leave Mt. Vernon. I hope!

I, Jane Helton, leave to next year's Senior Class, a large collection of term paper and essay deadlines, just barely or never met.

I, Tom Hennessey, do hereby bequeath to Glen Young, my ability to find my way home without in any way giving indication of my physical condition. To John Funkhouser, I leave my luck in life, my it plague him as it did me. To David Cook, I leave my favorite churchkey, and to anyone who thinks they can handle it, I leave my special "key".

I, Roberta Hepler, leave to some underclassman, my worn choral robe.

I, Beverly Hill, leave the rising Senior class, best wishes for a successful year in spite of the trials and tribulations to be faced.

I, Frank Hill, being of sound mind and relieved, do hereby leave-.

I, Miriam Holt, bequeath my ability to do things backwards to any Junior who insists on doing things forwards.

I, "K" Hudnall, bequeath all the "A's" I never made in English to Judy Faw. I will my patience with Mr. Match [Hatch] to his future classes. I further will my seat in English IV to Mr. Hatch, for a refresher course in spelling.

I, Joe Ikenberry, leave my brain to science, who couldn't use it in any worse way than I have.

I, Jennifer Innes, bequeath my inability to comprehend the intricacies of French grammar to Caroline Curling in the malicious hope that she may spend many weary hours pondering it.

I, Dave Ivey, leave my books to the janitor who operates the incinerator.

I, Sally Jewett, will to Phil Stowell, my lack of concentration, answers to all my Civics and English tests, and my S.H., in the hopes that he will pull through his Senior year.

I, Charles R. Johnson, leave to any rising Senior who will get Mrs. Cooley, one piece of advice on what to study and learn for her, any and everything.

I, Gloria Jones, will to the Class of '62, the complaints from Mr. Hatch about his sore finger.

I, Margie Jones, leave to my sister and her classmates, the many privileges which they may enjoy.

I, Barbara Keane, leave my ability to forget everything to some deserving Junior.

I, Barbara Kelley, leave my several broken hockey sticks, hockey shoes, my broken field running ability as a roving center half-back, step ladder, taped up basketball shoes, and my club to those girls who will continue to play sports at Em Vee Hi.

I, Pat Kelley, leave to all underclassmen, my sheer luck to never have had detention hall, my senior privilege of eating carrots on the lawn, and my over-used sheets.

I, Joe Kellum, leave my ability to fall down while running a 440 yd. dash to George Weikhardt.

I, Bob Kelly, am happy that I'm not leaving myself behind.

I, Gerald Kerr, do hereby leave all my "Nixon" buttons and signs to any Republicans in the class of ‘64.

I, Dee Kimble, leave to Mount Vernon, all the pens I have lost this year.

I, Wesley Kitchens, leave to anyone occupying locker 576, all the trash that may be found therein.

I, Danny Korchenko, leave all my footballs to Mrs. McFarland.

l, Jack Knox, will leave all my football jerseys to Mr. Miller who may need them to outfit his team next year.

I, Robert Kursch, leave my weather beaten music folder to next year's choir members and my English book to anyone who thinks he has a chance of passing.

I, Albert Lewis Lahendro, bequeath to Coach Miller, a State Championship team and enough jerseys to field it. To Coach Skinner, I leave a winless team so he will have enough troubles of his own and not have time to make them for others.

I, Lester Lam, do hereby leave my diploma to Annandale High School. I'll pick it up there.

I, Jo Ann Langley, leave Mt. Vernon with my memories.

I, Pat Lawhome, leave all my English notes to any member of the rising Senior Class; they'll have to listen closely to fill in the empty blanks.

I, Georgia Layton, bequeath all my English and Civics notes to Paul Layton.

I, Jean Leary, do hereby leave my neat, well organized, notebook to Mr. Miller, so that he might profit from such a fine example. I also leave my ability to charm Rob Surovell, to Vera Vinogradoff so that such a warm relationship might continue.

I, Mary Jo Lent, bequeath my diamond tiara to Maggie Wilson for her reign as Detention Hall Queen.

I, Marty Lentz, leave to Jo Cronin and Danny Nase, my ability to go to McDonald's for lunch and not get caught.

I, Charlie Lewis, leave my mononucleosis to Eddie Davis, with the understanding that it is terrible to have but fun to get.

I, Chris Lewnes, being of sound mind and boy upon entering the Senior Class, leave nothing behind me that I could legally take with me, however, for the lucky Junior who gets my locker; it may be opened by the combination 23-41-35 and two swift kicks.

I, Glenda Lindamood, leave to Mrs. Coo1ey's future students, an empty mind for you will need it for all the memory work.

I, Virginia Louis, leave my ability to any Junior who wishes to succeed in life.

I, Albert D. Lowry, leave my collection of "Playboys" to any broad minded underc1assman.

I, Karen Mahefky, leave my faithful heart to any underclass girl who can stand the ribbing.

I, Nanci Mansfield, bequeath full publication rights on all jokes and anecdotes concerning myself, to Mr. Hatch for his forthcoming anthology of classroom humor.

I, Sandra Kay Marr, bequeath my job in guidance to anyone who needs the exercise (D.D.T. could use it!).

I, Wallace Marshall, leave my ability to write editorials which are never read to anyone who wants to attempt them. I also return to Mrs. O'Brien for safekeeping, my solid geometry information book, Charlotte.

I, Bonnie Martin, leave to any rising Senior, my notes on Mr. Musser's forthcoming book on Communism, be they legible or not, and my desk that was never there in Mrs. Cooley's class.

I, Jerry Martin, leave: to Mr. Woodard my old tinkertoys, to Diane Hall my jello for years to come, and to the book store all my used orange peels.

I, Mary Martin, leave to some rising Senior, my Peter Pan Script and my copy of Masters of Deceit for Mr. Hatch's Civics class.

I, Jack Mathews, do hereby bequeath to Coach Miller, one football jersey which has been so constantly requested to be returned to these hallowed halls.

I, Larry Matthews, leave my car, girls, and empty gas tank, to John Shafer in hopes that he will make good use of them.

I, Gary McCutchen, leave my used tennis balls to the rising Senior Class.

I, John McRae, leave my ability to remain quiet in class to the imaginative resourceful, but loquacious Phil Bruce. I also leave my inability to memorize poetry to Vince Strayhorne.

I, Mert Meade, being of sound (?) Mind and body, bequeath to a Senior of the Class of '62, my ability to type without strike overs (if it took me two years to learn), and to Mrs. Cooley, the pleasure of seeing me leave.

I, Carolyn Merrit, bequeath my place at the front of the lunch line to my brother, Bill Merritt.

I, Jeff Miller, do hereby bequeath the remains of my "sound" mind and body to those following in my footsteps, of which there are few.

I, Terry Millican, leave Mt. Vernon!

I, Dwen Mills, bequeath my ability to not work in Miss Lowmarfs [?] class to any future O.T. student, and I leave my ability to do homework in history class.

I, Bill Mitchell, leave my mouse traps to Mrs. Cooley and the rising Senior Class.

I, Marie Mitchell, leave to the class of '62, Mr. Hatch.

I, Sandra Moore, leave all of my lawn privileges which I didn't use as a result of my job , to Peggy Austin.

I, Edna Moose, leave my upcoming freshman brother to any girl who is fast enough to catch him.

I, Frank Moser, leave to Ralph Dillingham, my ability to escape Bom Mr. Landes at lunch time, and a box of table footballs to Mrs. McFarland in hopes that she will practice during the summer for next year's study hall.

I, Janice Mowbray, leave all my term papers, book reports, and English papers to Joe Cronin, in hopes that he will pass Senior English. I leave my fond memories of Sophomore English and Mr. Layne to Judi Bridges who can carry on in my usual manner of tormenting him.

I, Ken Murphy, leave my ability to stay out of trouble with Mr. Robinson to John Funkhouser, who will need it. I also leave my pants with the shiny seat to any rising Senior who wants them.

I, Betsy Myatt, leave my faded cheerleading tights to Diane Hall who will have to re-dye them or else be embarrassed like I was.

I, Lynn Nash, do hereby leave to Jane Thomas, the ability to introduce Mark Roden to the good looking girls.

I, Martha Newman, bequeath my bumpy shins, sprung tendons, and other battle scars to the future girls sports champions of Mt. Vernon. I further leave all rusty hangars, moldy apples, pins, paper bags, to wit, the contents of my team locker, to the next occupant.

I, Sharon Niven, leave to rising Seniors, all the homework, luck and fun that the Senior year entails.

I, Ronald Norton, leave to the school one slightly used D.E. notebook to be given to Eddie Shepard when he starts D.E. next year along with my job at G.C. Murphy's.

I, Sharon Norvell, leave my late study hours to any senior who has Mrs. Cooley. I also leave my contact lenses to any nearsighted Junior who enjoys a few embarrassing moments.

I, Pete Nottingham, leave Mr. Robinson, a pack of cigarettes to smoke between periods.

I, Pat Ottoman, leave my privilege card to any Junior smelt enough to figure out what they are.

I, Gilbert Pascal, leave to the students of Mt. Vernon, the flies which gather around the cafeteria during the warm months; may you enjoy eating with them.

I, Tom Paull, leave all my knowledge (grab that) to any or-all of those who will benefit by it.

I, Charles Pavey, after a long hard struggle, leave Mt. Vernon.

I, Richard Penfold, leave to Mr. Hatch's future students, a book entitled "How to Write 100 Simple Questions and Answers".

I, Kenneth Petitt, leave my friendliness and seriousness to all in hopes that you will be friendly and serious as l was.

I, Marcia Pieper, hereby bequeath one dirty white Drill Team uniform to anyone with enough swing to fill it out.

I, Leo Piel, bequeath to the rising Senior Class, what remains of my pencils, scraps of paper, unfinished homework, and Mr. Hatch.

I, Lynne Poole, bequeath to next year's Drum Majorette, all the joys of hearing the excuses why majorettes can't come to practice, to parades and why they left their batons at home.

I, David H. Porter, leave my date book to the person most deserving.

I, David Post, leave next year's Debate Club to the tender machinations of Mr. Cohen. May Allah have mercy on their souls for Castro will not.

I, John Preer, leave my Physics book to Mr. Maskalenko.

I, Laura Pukas, leave to all lucky seniors, Mr. Hatch.

I, Donna Rainwater, leave to next year's Senior Class secretary and to Mrs. Cooley, my worn pen and notebook. Along with these, I leave the treasured and wonderful memories of my Senior Year.

I, Margie Reese, bequeath my seat in Mrs. Blalock's class along with all my unexcused tardies, to Gloria Reese.

I, Gale Remington, bequeath my ability to always be on the rush, yet always late, my love of unrestricted freedom. I gladly leave Mt. Vernon's hopelessly dull halls and bulletin boards, the students' suspicion of everything unconventional, and lack of enthusiasm in the classroom.

I, Jean Renaud, bequeath my elite status of "independent" to anyone who is brave enough to accept it.

I, Judy Rexrode, leave Mount Vernon and Mr. and Mrs. Cooley's notes.

I, Janice Robertson, leave to Billie Faye Crompwell, the 356‘h Army Band, that is the instruments and not the single boys.

I, Judy Robey, bequeath to some lucky girl who doesn't like her straight hair, all my naturally curly hair; to Marie Fridenstein, I leave a pair of scissors which called to order so my Pep Club meetings.

I, Karen, Sue Rogers, leave a smithering of my innate musical talent, to the future percussionist of Mount Vernon, since they will need it when I have gone to charm the Europeans-Boom!

I, Ruth Roop, leave my ability to tell Mr. Cooley that it's time for lunch by the curious art of stomach growling to Barbara Taylor.

I, Kathy Rosenthal, bequeath my superb system of organization and concentration to Barbara Dority, who is in much need of it.

I, Donald Ross, can will nothing to the underclassmen, because as a Senior of Mount Vernon, I have nothing to will.

I, Bill Roth, leave to Mark Roden, No Jim.

I, Barbara Sabel, bequeath to the rising Senior Class, the "Legend of Happy Jack" which would otherwise die with our class. To Mr. Robinson, I leave my undying regard for the scientific, quiet, and intelligent manner in which he collected two cent library fines.

I, Nolly San Luis, leave Mt. Vernon and all the wonderful people I have met in the short time I have been here.

I, James Sapp, leave my English grades to anyone who thinks he couldn't bear to leave good old Mount Vernon.

I, Linda Schmid, leave to the rising Senior Class, all my scrap paper and worn down pencils, in hopes that they may find some use for them.

I, Fred Schreiner, hope that the rising Senior Class, can get some privileges like...and so on.

I, Barry Scott, leave to this school, one used locker and all tardy bells.

I, Jim Sedberry, being of sound mind and body- do hereby leave Mt. Vernon.

I, Martha Seitz, bequeath to all underclassmen, the joy of listening to Mr. Cohen's witty epigrams.

I, Edward Shackelford, being of definitely sound mind, although some may doubt it, do hereby bequeath my "I don't know anything about it, attitude" to Mr. Robinson, with sincere hopes that he finds out who did it.

I, Lissa Shanahan, leave all the trials, tribulations, and happiness of the Senior year to any person who thinks they can live through them.

I, Sharon Shepherd, leave to the rising Senior Class, the quiet surroundings of Mr. Cooley's study hall and the fun of learning memory work for Mrs. Cooley.

I, Carl Simmons, leave all my good looks to anyone who becomes a Senior.

I, Jane Simms, leave to the lucky members of the class of '62, my many headaches accumulated during the past four years as a result of procrastination.

I, Richard Simpson, leave my worn and tom vocabulary list to anyone who has Mr. [Mrs.] Blalock next year and wants to assume the responsibility of keeping it in one piece.

I, Frank Skidmore, bequeath my pimentoed olives to Mr. Musser, as they have proved superior as teacher pacitiers, class disrupters, and test-jitter tranquilizers. May he use them as he sees fit.

I, Jack B. Slimp, being of generous nature, leave to Mr. Maskalenko, the memorable arguments of John Trussel.

I, Clyde D. Smith, leave my ability to do little work and make B's in bookkeeping to Caroline Arthur, who needs it badly. To anyone who likes to goof off. I leave my average brainpower and my less than average power.

I, Jo Anne Smith, leave my standing room on bus 165 to anyone unfortunate enough to get it.

I, Judy Smith, leave my nickname, "Toad", to Barbara DeGon in hopes that she will carry on the fine tradition.

I, Loretta Smith, leave to an upcoming Senior, the troubles I have encountered during my Senior years.

I, Matthew Smith, being of sound mind, leave to some poor student, my ability to give Mrs. Cooley an enjoyable fifth period.

I, Virginia Spaudling, bequeath to the girls of Mount Vernon, the snags on desks which make your nylons run.

I, Sandi Spinks, leave: to the juniors in Concert Choir all music new and old; folder #7 to Caroline Cline; to Mrs. Cooley, all memory work; to Mrs. Gates, all my chewing gum.

I, Setty [Betty] Stallings, bequeath to the students of Mt. Vernon, the note cards I had made for my term paper and lost.

I, Randy Stark, leave bus 35 to Mr. Moore, and may he operate it to this high standards and excellence. Also being of generous mind, I leave the answers in my Physics and Solid books to future students with my best wishes, and my sixth period study hall to Mrs. Salp [?] to catch up on her sleep.

I, Annie Mae Staton, leave all the ups and downs of Senior year to all rising Seniors.

I, Fred Stehling, bequeath to all rising Seniors, Mrs. Cooley, who by her uncanny methods of [?] will make you work harder than you ever have before.

I, Wally Stevens, bequeath to my younger brother, the last of a long line of Stevens at Mount Vernon, all my mistakes through which he might possibly profit.

I, James Stout, leave my clear, concise, neatly written, English notes to Jim Somerville along with a set of hieroglyphics with which to translate.

I, Vince Strayhorne, leave with much gladness, my hard times as a Senior at Mount Vernon.

I, Donna Sturgill, being of sound but test worn mind, leave all of Mrs. Cooley's pop tests to anyone unlucky enough to be there that day.

I, Steve Surkiewicz, leave my reserved seat at the Speak Easy, Brass Rail, Hofbrau, and Brickskeller, and my diverse collection of bottles to Mike Walsh.

I, Bill Tatsch, being of sound body and frustrated mind, leave with the hope that someday someone will pronounce my name right.

I, Barbara Taylor, bequeath to one of next year's luck seniors, Mrs. Blalock's Vocabulary List.

I, Beverly Tobin, bequeath long hours of cramming for Mrs. Cooley's tests and all my wonderful privileges, to some lucky junior.

I, Betty Tomlin, leave to Mount Vernon, all my lost steno pads, which caused me to get low grades in Shorthand. I also leave the many desks in room 113, which gave me runs in my nylons.

I, Sandy Torbert, leave my dancing techniques to Mr. Cohen, may he ever remember them.

I, Jamis Townsend, leave my ability to crack corny puns, to Jean McCullough, in hopes that she may add some more to my collection.

I, Susan Treder, leave the lunch table and all the fun that goes with it, to anyone who wishes it.

I, Thomas K. Trelogan, being [of] sound mind, and not acting under any duress whatsoever, bequeath my ability to engage in the most activities possible, without, of course, being in two places at once. The only condition to the acceptance of this inheritance is that the heir be willing to drive at least forty miles a day with an average of 7 people in a foreign economy car.

I, John Trussell, being of sound mind (reasonably), do hereby bequeath: to my beloved wrestling coach my brown hair, my "Marquis de Sade" sweatshirt, to the track team, my shield (which I came back on), and to the debate team, my silver tongue.

I, Charlie Tuegel, bequeath my dynamic personality to Mrs. Cooley, who was lucky enough to have me. I leave my ability to make off-beat remarks in Mr. Musser's class to Tony Wagner, should be lucky enough to get in that class.

I, Dee Tyler, leave to Stephanie Hoy: one faded blue gym suit from Miss Zacha1y's class, one half-eaten cafeteria lunch, and a collection of misspelled words from Mrs. Bla1ock's Vocabulary lists.

I, Ronnie Vance, leave to posterity, my collected observances of scandalous behavior and thoughts of all my past teachers. To Wood Shedd, I leave my library card.

I, Dutch Vandervort, do bequeath to all of Mrs. O'Brien's future trigonometry students, my uncanny ability to provoke that teacher to the brink of violence. To Tony Wagner, I leave my father's vacated position in the pentagon.

I, Cindy Vaught, bequeath my loud voice to all those who are too shy to speak up in class and to any Junior lucky enough to find it, my American Government notebook which was quite complete except for my name.

I, Barry Waddell, being of sound mind and body, hereby bequeath to Mi. Moore, my ability to make the boys and girls sit on their respective sides of my bus.

I, Patti Waltman, leave my driver's license to Diane Hall that she might enjoy her Senior year to her "fullest" capacity.

I, Stanley Warder, leave my great speed in the loves to Joe Vaughn, and leave Mt. Vernon to everybody.

I, Stanley Watts, leave to some Junior who has been pulling his hair out, my long "curly 1ocks", and to one of Mr. Snyder's future pupils, my Robin Hood touch.

I, Nancy Webster, leave my ability to make Martinis for me and my supreme self-control in their presence, to vera [Vera] Vinogradoff.

I, Jay Westbrook, leave my co-ordination in track to anyone stupid enough to take it.

I, Diane White, leave to Ann Norton and the other Juniors, the 7 1/2 hours of school and new music department. I also leave, with leaden heart, my vocab sheets from Mrs. Blalock's class and Mr. Cooley's news panels.

I, Ruth Weiderhold, leave nothing to no one, for I'm sure to need it soon.

I, Mary Wellemeyer, leaving these hallowed halls, do hereby bequeath the reverend title of Regent of the Honorable order of Prex Necis, to Tony Wagner, that he may use it, as I have, for the relief of agony caused by the study of Latin, and enjoin him to use, as I have tried to, for the benefit of all those afflicted by such pains.

I, John Whitford, leave to anyone lucky enough to get Mrs. Cooley, one case of writer's cramp.

l, Danny Edward Wideman, bequeath: to Mrs. Blalock all my old Vocabulary lists to give to whomever she desires, preferably Tommy Brown; to Bill Thornton, and Lea Christiansin, all my Biology notes and a German-English interpreter for Mrs. Nelson; to Mr. Musser, all the erudite and scholarly words in the dictionary and a Star paper route; to mr. [Mr.] Croom, a lifeguard who doesn't fall asleep on duty; and to Mr. Landes, a late bus clearing the hall as per usual.

I, Blair Williams, willingly leave to the future members of the Wrestling Team, the most imperfect tactics every employed on a mat. To some lucky Junior, I leave my three year old tennis shoes, complete with taped soles, in hopes that someday an athlete may have the honor of wearing them.

I, Judi Wilson, leave my ability to pass American Government, to all Juniors fortunate enough to get Mr. Cooley.

I, Woody Wilson, leave my slightly battered sports car to Dana Stevens.

I, Glade Wittwer, do hereby demise to Mr. Vaughn, one jar of mustache wax.

I, Nancy Wood, bequeath all my qualities and sympathy to Kenny Strickland.

I, Saundra Wood, do will to my loving and faithful Mt. Vernon, one slightly used note book and three used text books.

I, Dottie Wooten, leave my shortness to Mr. Cohen in the hopes that he may become a dictator, and to all rising classes, my volumes of English, Civics, and Modern European History notes.

I, James Wooten, do hereby leave these words of advice to the rising Senior Class: Don't be afraid of work. I was never afraid of work. I was never afraid of work-I could fall asleep right next to it.

I, Margaret Wright, leave to one forgetful majorette, a pair of short, a blouse, and a pair of shoes that I always forgot.

I, John Zweig, leave all the cigarettes in my locker, to Mr. Hatch.

We, the Class of 1961, do hereby appoint Melvin B. Landes, Principal, as the sole executor of this will. He is, however, to be ably assisted by any teachers who would like to dispose of us and our belongings.

Signed: John Briar, Senior Class President


Mount Vernon High School, Alexandria Virginia, Class of 1960 Last Will and Testament for the Class of 1961

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