Ball State University - Orient Yearbook (Muncie, IN)

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Saying goodbye was the hardest part of moving back to school. Some students found it difficult to leave not only family, but hometown sweethearts as well. john S. metzger possessions scattered the sidewalks as parents stood guard while students located room numbers and picked up keys. Flesidence halls weren't home but every effort was made to come as close as possible. Lack of space was a common problem for hall residents. But Muncie mer- chants were quick to remedy the inconvenience by selling lumber on cam- pus for bunk beds. Moving ln

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16 Moving In ars jammed the curbs, jockeying for position like horses next to the inside rail. Campus police limited parking time and piles of belongings sprouted next to U-Hauls, pick-up trucks and station wagons. Some took off to find less- restricted parking places, some ' were left to guard the TV, the refrigerator and all the clothes while others headed toward the double doors and the registration table. All of them were moving in. The eager freshman and his parents were the most common arrivals on that first day, but for a few upperclassmen, getting away from home again was worth the hassle. My mother threatened my life when she saw all the stuff I was taking, said Missy Gordon, Fort Wayne senior. It took three carloads to get it all into a single. But it was really a day for the freshmen -- a day for those who had never been farther away from home than Grandma's house, for parents who had never had a child go away to college, for those who acted calm and collected although they had a trillion questions with no nswers in sight. All of these people were com- ing in -- my floor staff, my up- perclassman roommate, my Big Sister -- and I was just trying to get my bearings, said April Neth, Columbus freshman. I wanted my parents to leave so I could get things sorted out. I wanted to do it all myself. I just wanted to be on my own. It was a never-ending cycle. Cars pulling out, leaving heaps of stereos, clothes and milk crates like so many piles of leaves on an autumn lawn, were quickly replaced by others. Keys, rusty from a summer's rest, turned roughly when in- serted in locks and doorhinges opened reluctantly. Room colors and sizes weren't always greeted with a freshman's smile, but Mom was always quick to find the 'ii room's good points. . I Q And behind the scenes, o1l1ng the transition process as best they could, were the squads of student staff and hall directors, not to mention the hall officers. I was locked in the elevator for six hours because no one came to relieve me. I was getting claustrophobic, said Coleen Easterday, Fort Wayne junior. I never wanted to see a freshman again -- this one girl had all the luxuries: stereo, refrigerator, TV. I was jealous. But the smiles would reappear as the upperclassmen thought of the day they'd moved in and the hassle it had been. They could laugh now because it had been worth every minute. Doors were opening and rooms that had been empty during the long days of summer began to have life again. Voices echoed down the hallways and stereos began to shake the walls. And out in front of the hall, a station wagon slipped away from the curb to allow a van a place. It was time to make way for one more student and yet one more roomful of the absolute necessities. Eb y Angie Fullenkamp

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