Seattle Sun Newspaper - Vol. 7, Issue 1, January 2003

Copyright 2002 Seattle Sun. Please feel free to use the article and photos below in your research. Be sure to quote the Seattle Sun as your source.

Stan's Lookout:

Lincoln creative writing class, circa 1936

By STAN STAPP

When I graduated from Lincoln High in 1936, I didn't continue on to college like many of my classmates no money. But I did take one more class at Lincoln, as a post-graduate, or PG, as we were called. My pen name was William Randolph, short for William Randolph Hearst.

So every morning after working an hour or two at the Outlook newspaper (just a block south of Lincoln), I headed for the school and Miss Ann Elizabeth Grave's Creative Writing Class. I enjoyed every minute of it, and believe I improved my writing abilities as I did a little earlier in Bernice Dahl's Journalism Class. They were my two favorite teachers.

Sixty-seven years later, I still have many of the articles I wrote back then. And I'm about to run several by you, starting with "The Minutes of My Creative Writing Class." This assignment was to write about my classmates.

However I'd like to finish a little project I'm involved with and then I'll be with you. ...

* * *

Greetings! Stan Stapp here. But don't bother me now. I'll be with you as soon as I finish taking this Louis E. Bisch's Neurotic Test. (Bisch is well-known for his views on the subject of neurosis and the author of a number of books including, "How Successful Neurotics Are Almost Always Happier Than Normal People.")

However, to keep you entertained while I take the test I have secured the services of Miss Virginia Bore'm (also spelled Boren) society columnist of the Seattle Daily Times, to write the minutes today until I'm done.

I entitled her contribution: WITH VIRGINIA BOREM.

She starts out with the weather report:

"I know that summer is slipping in," she writes, "because there are smiles everywhere, bright ones, rosy ones, and cheery ones galore. There are so many young girls dressed in new spring outfits and clean white shoes. And the boys are as fresh in their cute white blouses, gay sweaters, and masculine trousers.

"There is a lightness and a joy in the air that comes only with the summer sunshine, the songs of the birds, the rustle of travel pamphlets, the drone of the airplanes, the turning of train wheels, the spirit of relaxation.

"And especially because some pretty young thing with tipped-up nose and mounds of curls is laughing. Yes, summer is here and definitely.

"Class president June Ann is presiding today, seated at a long antique table that fits in well with the other quaint furniture, all of it pre-war. Miss Mary Esterbrook, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Esterbrook, and retiring secretary, reads the minutes which are approved.

"Whereupon Miss Marilyn Lund entertains the group with a sweet story entitled: 'Behold the Fish.' Her long golden curly hair shakes as she exquisitely reads on, flipping over the pages of her story in a very definite manner.

"And, attired in a blue print dress, with partly puffed sleeves, dark-haired Margaret Cunningham seems to be enjoying the story immensely until someone notices she is reading 'The Laugh of the Week' column in Scholastic Magazine."

As Miss Lund finishes her epochal masterpiece, a profound silence blankets the room until the President remarks that she doesn't understand it and Miss Lund attempts to explain. Ah, but even then the mystery remains until Madame Graves has the story reread by the proudly flattered Miss Lund.

As she reads on one can tell that luncheon is soon to be served, for the Misses Ruth McDonald and Helen Greenlund seem to be staving off their appetites: Miss McDonald delicately chewing on the back of her chair, and Miss Greenlund nibbling on her fingernails. At this point Miss Graves leads her little group in a discussion of how much detail a story should contain.

Further evidence that summer is here is displayed as Miss Graves removes her light blue wrap and lends it to Miss Esterbrook, who was sitting near two drafty doors. Mr. Clifford Keil, handsome track and football man at the Abraham Lincoln Preparatory School of this city, and member of the Hi-Y Club, gallantly aids her in donning Miss Graves' snappy attire.

"Oh, well," continues Virginia Bore'm, "I guess summer is really here, it's in the air, the clouds, the trees, even the little green buds seem ... oh, you're done so soon? Goodbye everyone, your regular secretary, Mr. Stapp, has arrived and will now finish up the minutes."

* * *

Hi! folks, it's me Stan again! Semi-neurotic and PROUD OF IT! But quiet Betty is reading something. As she reads, her fingers nervously paw the corner of June's desk, but June is more interested in watching her face as a faithful dog would (not a tree). Betty's head jerks as she reads. As she finishes, a discussion of 'playing house' arises among the feminine would-be writers. Marilyn defiantly states that she had never played house, and never played dolls.

However our teacher, Miss Graves, relates how she used to play house with some dirty old planks left in the street that is until she's dinned out by the noise coming from behind the Lincoln High Annual office next door. Then, Marks Ewing, the lone occupant comes to our rescue by preparing a message requesting peace and quiet. "Is there a pigeon in the house?" he inquires.

Receiving no answer Marks tosses the missile over the partition between the Annual Office and Miss Graves' Creative Writing Room. This temporarily stifles that discussion, but the classroom itself becomes a hubbub of comment. Following are some of the remarks I picked up from that discussion:

Miss Graves: "Cliff turn around and be still of all the jittery people something ought to be done about you it's too bad to see a healthy boy like you so nervous!"

Mary Snelling: "We're slipping."

Marilyn: "I disapprove of the Escapade, but the stories showed emotion."

Ruth: "We've had a relapse."

Katherin Wheeler: "What?"

June Ann: "My stories are still personal."

Miss Graves: "Ruth can't feel other people's emotions like Jim can Cliff stop talking!"

Marilyn: "I can't tell the truth when I write in the first person."

June Ann: "How frank can you be?"

Miss Graves: "You can't be too frank I know some things about you that you wouldn't write or want me to."

Marilyn: "Things at West Seattle were dull..." (Some of the Lincoln Class members had visited West Seattle's writing class recently.)

Katherin: "...and boring, too no punch."

Marilyn: "Telling will only bring criticism on me."

Katherin: "Me, too!"

Miss Graves: "I heard many beautiful things at West Seattle."

Marilyn: "We didn't!"

Miss Graves: "You were probably there on a bad day."

Miss Graves again: "I think it's all right to write personal things in the first person."

Marks: "How about the second person?"

Miss Graves: "Caroline SHUSH!"

The Bell: "Clang!"