The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Wednesday, October 26, 1994            TAG: 9410250054
SECTION: DAILY BREAK              PAGE: E1   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: By PATRICK K. LACKEY, STAFF WRITER 
                                             LENGTH: Long  :  151 lines

GRADUATION CRASH

THE 1929 CLASS prophecy in the Woodrow Wilson yearbook said senior Doris Makinson would marry a millionaire and party on a yacht he'd buy her - ``The Sea Gull.'' At age 82, she hasn't met her sugar daddy yet.

Frank D. Lawrence Jr., the 1929 senior class president, said, ``We thought, when we graduated from high school, we would retire at 40 because we would all make so much money.''

As it turned out, the class graduated just in time for the Great Depression, which would last into their early 30s.

For four years, beginning in 1929, the national economy worsened almost every month.

Over that span, unemployment increased tenfold, from 1.5 million to 15 million. Millions more had part-time jobs that paid peanuts. The song that best expressed the nation's despair was ``Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?'' Nearly half of the banks went under, taking life savings with them. As late as 1940, almost one in six workers was unemployed.

Makinson, now of Chesapeake, Lawrence of Portsmouth and 31 other survivors of Wilson's classes of 1928 1/2 and 1929 gathered last week at Holiday Inn-Portside Waterfront for their 65th reunion, their first in five years. This week also marks the 65th anniversary of Black Monday, when the the stock market collapsed and fortunes proved no more substantial than the morning mist.

The Wilson reunion began with the graduates and their guests, mostly spouses, eating lunch at nine round tables in a banquet room.

Sixty-some years earlier, when hunger came calling, the talk at the tables would have been about the tasty, ample portions, but the graduates have been eating well for decades. In their suits and dresses, they looked, if anything, prosperous.

Lunchtime talk ran to school memories and the infirmities of age.

At one table, William P. Melms of Norfolk told a joke about a 65-year-old woman who had a baby by artificial insemination. After the woman brought the baby home from the hospital, friends stopped over to see the miracle firsthand. They waited and waited. Finally the mother said, ``As soon as the baby cries and I find out where she is, I will show you.''

During the 20 years Melms has been married to his second wife, he said, he has had 10 major surgeries. He's had two open heart surgeries, a kidney removed and colon cancer.

``With all that,'' he said, ``I have enjoyed my life. I figure myself pretty happy. I had some tragedies in my life, but all in all, I think I have been pretty lucky.''

One of the Great Depression's lessons was to be thankful, if you could find something to be thankful for.

Melms recalled paying off a suit 50 cents at a time shortly after high school graduation. He needed the suit, he said, to find a job. He never got a bill for the suit, just paid whenever he had 50 cents. His stack of receipts, he said, reached 3 inches high.

``If the public had to go back to living like we did,'' he said, ``it would make a big difference in the way people do things today. . . for the better.

``You had to depend on somebody else. You couldn't go out on your own and say, `I have got mine. Hooray for me!' You had to depend on other people. We were all in that same category.''

If you saw someone you could help, he said, you helped. ``People,'' he said, ``were willing to share.''

He said of the Great Depression, ``In the overall picture, it did me more good than harm.''

Life didn't turn out the way he'd hoped. He never got to go to West Point and rise to be a general. But eventually he got a job at the Norfolk Navy Shipyard in Portsmouth. He worked there 34 years as a planner and estimator.

At the reunion, while some were still finishing their lunches, Lawrence, the class president, strode to a lectern and called for introductions, ``as we have not seen each other for at least three weeks and we don't recall who we are.''

Each person stood and said a few words when his or name was called. Jerry Thomas Batts Jr. of Norfolk said, ``It's good to be here. In fact it's good to be anywhere.''

He drew sighs of pleasure when he said, ``The girls seem to be the same as when I was in high school.''

The graduates introduced their spouses or other guests. When Melms introduced his wife, Caroline, she stood and said, ``Rah! Rah! Maury,'' to many jeers.

In 1929, there was one white high school in Norfolk and one white high school in Portsmouth and the rivalry was intense. When the teams played each other, the ferries had a busy night. If Wilson beat Maury at any sport, the season was a success.

After introductions at the reunion, every football score from the class of 1929's four seasons was read aloud.

Wilson was state champion in football during the graduates' sophomore and junior years. The team outscored opponents 206 to zip their sophomore year. The team lost to Maury their freshman year, then beat Maury the next three times.

Alice Stewart Wilson revealed that she was Frank Lawrence's first date. She read a poem about that date, part of which went:

I was Frank Lawrence's first date.

We lived across the street on Hatton.

We listened to Amos & Andy on radio

And nothing else much happened.

Lawrence, still at the podium, said, ``She was my first date, and I didn't know how to tell her good-night. So I grabbed her and kissed her.''

Wilson, who now lives in Florida, was a singer in high school. Her parents wouldn't let her cheerlead for fear her voice would be strained. She went on to a successful career in showbiz and teaching, including one year at Radio City Music Hall, a year at The Roxy Theater, a national tour with the American Civic Opera Co. singing the alto lead in Victor Herbert's ``Naughty Marietta.''

She was a voice for five Paramount cartoons and commercials for New Surf and Gain detergents and Camay soap. She performed with Xavier Cugat, Cab Calloway, Louis Armstrong, Sid Caesar, Hazel Scott and Dick Haines, among many. She was the class star.

After Wilson's poem, Melms read the names of the 29 classmates who had died since their reunion five years earlier. After each name was read, Melms's wife rang a small bell.

No one said it, but surely it was thought. If another reunion were held in five years, the bell rings might well outnumber the people there to hear them.

``I think we are lucky,'' Melms said, ``to be able to read these names and say we were here.''

Finally, each person was called forward to receive what looked like a diploma. It was a certificate of graduation that read:

This is to certify that (name) having survived the Great Depression, numerous recessions, several wars, assorted political ups and downs, the sounds of music from big bands to rock and roll, crystal sets to Stereo and TV, some heartaches and some happy times, and the challenge of new career openings since graduating from Woodrow Wilson High School in 1928 1/2-1929, has now graduated summa cum laude to Medicare and Golden Years of reflection.

The World Book encyclopedia entry on the Great Depression says, ``Many young adults lost confidence in themselves and lowered their ambitions.''

No loss of confidence was apparent at the reunion. The good times were recalled.

You could say the classes of 1928 1/2 and 1929 lowered their ambitions. It might be more accurate to say they were highly practical. If a person got a good job, he clung to it. If he got a dime, he saved part.

``Money determined if you went away to school,'' recalled Doris Makinson, whose last name now is Perry. ``Most didn't have it. I was out of school a year before I got a job. I am not complaining, because I have done all right. I stayed with the telephone company 47 years, I am glad to say.''

She was a clerk in store room supply. When she retired, Lawrence told her, they had to hire 10 people to replace her.

``According to the class prophecy,'' she recalled, ``I'm supposed to have a yacht. I don't like the water. I am scared of the boats.'' ILLUSTRATION: Photos from 1929 yearbook and color photos by Mark Mitchell,

Staff

Frank Lawrence, Jr., President Senior Class

Alice Stewart, Secretary Senior Class

William Parrish Melms, Motion Picture Council

KEYWORDS: WOODROW WILSON HIGH SCHOOL REUNION CLASS OF 1929 by CNB