  Top row, left to right: Ralph Lallier, Kathleen Wilson, John Eubank, Jesse Madden, Bessie Byers, Flossie McComas, Fred Morgan Middle row, left to right: Mildred Chase, Roberta Hoyle, Frank Nagle, Nellie Knaur, Ethel Wilmon, Myrtle Smith, Richard Brumbaugh, valedictorian, Odra Carter, Pinkie Brack Front row, left to right: Ila Esler, salutatorian, Effie Wilson, Joseph Wheeler, Rachel Watson and Bessie Nobes When this picture was made 3 of the class, Virgie Beggs, Ethelyn Lallier, and Kate McGinnis, were absent The Denison Daily Herald
Saturday, June 6, 1908 pg. 9 COMMENCEMENT EXERCISES OF DENISON HIGH SCHOOL Commencement time is a joyous time for all. It is the season when sentiment reigns supreme, when friendship, love and festivities are...above business and other material things. To the young, the rapturous present mirrors life at its most...period, and in its glories and beauties we see the future as in a spot light. It is the halcyon time of youth. And to the more mature, commencement time, as seen through a perspective of years, is the happiest period of life. In memories of it, all the worries and troubles are...away to be replaced by...of scenes of school life, white...and young faces full of the joy of living; and peals of laughter echo through the years. The fragrance of flowers, the throb of music, the elation of youth conjure up sentimental scenes that stand out against the purple long ago like the shining star against the heavens. Surely on similar scene in Denison's history was ever more attractive, nor yet one about which centered more interest, than that disclosed...an expectant audience at the Denison Opera House last night, when at 8 o'clock, the curtain rose, showing the twenty-four boys and girls who have just completed the High School course. Murmurs of admiration are inspired by the pretty picture suddenly burst forth in tumultuous applause. No fairer young flowers were ever plucked from life's rosebud garden of girls than nineteen winsome...who were the cynosure of all; a manlier quintette would be hard to find than the five bright...youths who shared equal honors with their class sisters. Nearly every member of this large class has spent his or her entire life in Denison; many of the friends who witnessed the exercises have known the graduates from earliest childhood - ...as tots in primer days they began the ascent of the ladder of knowledge; and have watched with personal interest each year's progress,...this end of school days seemed a triumph for others besides the pupils, teachers, proud parents and other relatives. The stage was decorated with red and white carnations, the class flowers and baskets and bouquets of...blossoms, and boxes and parcels of gifts, were ranged in front of the footlights for these happy young graduates. But the boys and girls themselves where the chief attraction, the girls were especially admired, their natural charm being enhanced by the lovely and fashionable frocks they wore. Seldom does one observe a group of prettier, more elaborate and dainty gowns than selected by the class of '08. There were yards and yards of lace and embroideries and dainty rutchings, frills and tucks that would catch the fancy of every wearer of feminine garments. Mr. Hughes, superintendent of City schools, acted as master of ceremonies and introduced Rev. E.L. Eg..., pastor of the Waples Memorial church, who invoked Divine blessings upon the audience, and especially on the class of '08. Following this the...ensemble opened the program with a beautiful chorus, "Away to the fields," (Wilson) under the direction of Mrs. Ada Markham, director of music, which gave the audience an....into the splendid program to...given by this interesting class. SALUTATORY as the echoes of the chorus and applause following it became fainter and fainter, Miss Ila Esler who won second honor, stepped forward and delivered her salutatory address in a clear, even voice. Her subject showed deep thought, and was well handled. "The Man That Fails," as she depicted him by comparisons, is given in full: The dirty little children at the...house door ran helterskelter this way and that from the man who was coming up the steps. The man walked slowly along the many flights of dark and gloomy stairs until he came to a standstill before a...lower and narrower than all the others. He unlocked the door and went in. Why the door was locked no one could tell, certainly the gloomy room held nothing that a thief would steal. Sunshine indeed it had, but the more dismal for it. Shining through the...curtains, it cast around a peculiar gloomy light not unlike the...that slips through prison bars. It showed the old man standing there,...gaunt and wasted. He looked about for a moment as if bewildered, then sat down, covering his sunken eyes with his hands to keep out the unwelcome glare. Outside a bird was singing, Joy, joy - it sang to the children. A breeze brought up the sound of their lusty screaming. Frowning, the man rose, went to the window and motioned the children away, they looked at him a moment and then ran off frightened. The bird...sang outside. "Failure," he heard...saying, "failure, poverty, despair;" ...the breeze brought back the...a thousand times. His great ambition had failed. To the world,...whose praises so long...his name would be forever unknown. Why had he failed? Was it through lack of interest, through lack of means, through lack of..., or through lack or purpose? Interest indeed he had; for years he had watched with great delight the growth of his delicate machine,...each tiny piece was added. Means he had possessed in great abundance, but idly squandered them after his day's work was done. Talent? The talent that he had! Purpose. Why, had he desired to make...a success? To help the world along, to aid mankind. In the dismal, dirty room, the question...from his soul and he knew the cause of his failure - he had been only striving for a name that...as long as the world...he had fostered the spirit...until it conquered every impulse of his life. Can...and do nothing to be remembered by? ambition asked. Will you join the ten thousand legions of the nameless that are marching through oblivion? No, he could but answer, no; and following the dictates of a selfish ambition, he had failed. Many men like him are overcome by the desire to be remembered. The incendiary who burned the beautiful Temple of Diana, did it for a place in history. Napoleon butchered thousands that he might become a monarch with a name immortal. Napoleon's life, in a way, was a failure, a miserable failure. What he needed was not skill, but a goodly purpose, not the power to achieve but the will to labor rightly. Unselfish motives could have spurred him on to noble deeds and made him a mighty worker in a better cause. Men there are who, out of only altruistic motives, out of desire to help humanity and better the condition of the world about them, have spent their whole lives striving after one great ideal with no thought for the life of their name. Who has not heard of the beautiful Venus de Milo? In the Palace of the Louvre, the statue stands - a woman with all the yearning of the centuries in her noble face - a statue perfect almost beyond human conception. Whose happy thought it was to tear this human perfection out of stone, we do not know. Surely he was a man of sacrifice; he labored for art's sake, not for his own; his name was never chiseled on his statue, nor did he leave us any record of his work. Likewise of the man who built the far-famed Cathedral of Milan, we know nothing. But, dimly through the years, he can be seen, a worn man working for his church and his God, striving not for praises for himself, but for all glory to the One whom all men worship. Some men reach their ideal during their lifetime, but many only see it glimmering faintly ahead when they come to die. In the last battle they fall, but surely somewhere they will find their reward. Of the man, Mazzini, Garibaldi, and Savonarola, of Sarpi, Bacon and Harvey, we know that some were successful, were justly deserving of the praises they received; but the others lost out in the race, failed to reach the goal. Nevertheless, we think no worse of them for striving - "the world, however hostile, cannot resist the beauty of self-sacrifice." It has come to be quite the common thing with us nowadays to pity the man who fails, to feel sorry for him. Often our pity is not needed, most often not wanted. When a man has done his best and lost a long race by the decision of an unfair judge, to another helped by fortune and hushed by friends, he does not feel exactly disheartened, nor half so bad as people imagine. The first race is not always the race that counts; lose it and man is not doomed to eternal failure, as some of his friends would have it. A man knows when he's beaten through and through, he can recognized the better man when he passes him, but often the better man - from a scrupulous turn is left a little behind. Yet the loser, because of this same scuffle, has often won the greater victory - he has mastered self. The world may count his failure to win a defeat, but the heart of the man knows that his defeat is a victory. In a great war the general may fall, but often the man wins out. Go back with me to that place where the last weary bands of the Confederate Army, scarred and brokenhearted, worn out by hunger and fatigue, had given up the fight, had surrendered to the Union at Appomattox. Lee walked about the little city, talking to his disarmed men, cheering those who were sorrowing that they had been left alive to see their cause defeated, consoling those who were mourning over Dixie's fate. Lee's steps were firm, his shoulders straight, his words strengthening, but his eyes were very sad. Devotion and self-sacrifice, the outpouring of the best blood like water - all, all had ended in defeat. Hitherto he had been successful; he had won great honors everywhere, but this - the cause to which he had devoted all his energy and vigor, all his abilities, and the best years of his life - had failed. Without estate or profession, broken hearted, but showing to the world a cheerful face, Lee left his men and accepted the presidency of Washington College. To this employment he gave the same devotion, with the like high sense of duty that distinguished the Captain of the engineers and the Commander of the chief army of one of the belligerents of a mighty civil war. Was Lee's career a failure? The world may say that in the great object of his life, he was defeated - that the cause in which his soul was fast bound up, was lost forever. But call the South to witness for him, ask her who knew him best, if Lee's life was a failure, and a thousand times she will answer, No! Who could not answer no? Our Southern general was defeated, but he had so lived that he knew not how to fail. Who, more than he, has shown the world how to accept defeat? Who, by a cheerful face and goodly influence, has kept so many men from wasting their lives from brooding over a lost cause, from mourning over the fate of a loved land? What man, with a heart as sad as Lee's, has used his powers to soften the passion of his people, to help build up a land as happy and as prosperous as our South is today? When drums were beating Lee's march, when the old horse (Traveler), fitted out in his wartime accouterments but riderless, was moving slowly behind the hearse that was bearing the General to his grave, there was not a portion of the South that was not mourning, not an old soldier who was not weeping - and even the coldest Northerner was moved to tears. Who saw that sad procession then, who thinks about it now, that cannot but believer that General Lee, the man who failed, had come into the heritage of his fathers, had received an everlasting name in the land that shall never pass away? To have toiled upward through the barren years. To have had courage to contend with wrong; And walked in silence when the victor's song Was justly their's lest it should reach the ears Of the great grieving host of the vanquished ones; Showing Christ's mercy to the puny soul That would have kept the longed-for goal All these are victories, oh, worthy sons! But to have battled bravely and have failed - Yet failing, stood undaunted to the last, Cheering the ones who on to victory passed; Infusing hope to those by doubts assailed; Conquering self, beneath the chastening rod Behold a victor worthy of his God!  Denison High School History Susan Hawkins © 2024 If you find any of Grayson CountyTXGenWeb links inoperable, please send me a message. |