The Sauk Centre herald., 1940-02-08
The COmmon-tater
by Chuck Rathe
Typewriter Portraits

everything was just the way Yves Kohl liked
It, There were the students, some four hundred of
them There was the faculty. There was his last
oay IN School 1t was send off believe he
Pized ABOVE all others-the rousing good wishes of
MS student body. There were the members of the
music department, the gangng youngster he's faith
cred into adolescence. There were the athletes.
there were the publications Students there were the
just plain students. To them all he said You're
good bunch of kids Now carry on for the man
who takes my place" And he pointed to E. W.
Olson. Studentlike the whole thing was treated
with humor. They kidded him about his eternal
green pills; about his Junior College; about his
teachers; the time Miss Wilson pulled the piano
stool from under him. Yet there was an under
current of something about to happen. It would be
all over. You knew those kids would miss him
You really got the full intent of the program when
the mixed chorus of some 60-odd voices gave an
inspiring Interpretation of Mr.. Kohrs own my
symphony of Love- Perched on a desk Yves
waved his hands and the chorus swung into his own
arrangement of the number. AS the song moved
along you could tell it good one Then the
whole assembly Joined the chorus in Aud Lang
Syne' All through it Yves Kohl bubbled. Like
glass of champagne, sparkling to the last drop :.
Then as constant reminder of the school, the stu
dents presented him with lifetime subscription to
the schools publications. A scholarly gesture; Yves
was ucked beyond words Then he talked to
them. He bounced the stage; that now famous
grin extending from one wall of the assembly to
the other Just as he had done the first day
nine years before. He told them to carry on.
He joked with them. He playfully razzed them and
the teachers But he told them too how much
he liked what they had done AS he talked, the
bell rang that officially closed the day-hs last day.
He walked to the piano, and tromped all over the
ivories. He'd done that that first day nine years
ago too. When he'd finished playing he got to
the stage once more, shot grin at the gang said
goodbye. bounced from the stage as nimbly as he
had nine years ago. He took the of the girl,
who took his stage ribbng before the students who
is his contant companion, Mrs Kohl Together they
swung out of the assembly. Yves girded for
his new job by whale of student reception
Officially ended, his term had ended unofficial
note But significantly it ended too where it
had begun. With and before his student body.
There genuine tie between these students and
Yves Kohl that made them friends Today in the
Railways in the assemblies the class rooms, there's
a presence, but no person. It's that of Wes Kohl.
For no man can boss institution for nine years
without leaving the ghost Of his presence to haunt
its every Granny But there was scarcely tremor
the machinery went running. Only gears
meshed, to climb the little hill, and then on
the straightaway again. There's no empty desk
because the next morning Stub Olson walked from
his usual office principal, through the business
office, swung his long frame into the swivel chair
Wes had left. And down the stairs came Nellie
Robertson who picked up her pencil and began
the principal where Stub had left off. And it's
a thought that it's the salvation of things that some
always carries One by his leaving and alb
sence may leave post SCARED. But the wound
is not eternally open. That's what Wes believes,
that his message to his students. So next
morning as Mr. Olson and Miss Robertson moved up
notch, in their offices flowers plant for the