Published Date Written by Noelle Barrett
Dressed in pink from head to toe, a yellow sash draped over her shoulder, Polly Shepler Barlow felt like royalty as she waved to a crowd of adults and smiling children from a black Mercedes.
There was a lot to take in. The last time she rode down Highspire’s Second Street during a parade was 1964. Fifty years ago, she was named the Sesquicentennial Queen, and had a crown encrusted with shiny diamonds to prove it.