Bellmont High School - Legend Yearbook (Decatur, IN)

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A time to be everything that needs to be A time to be aware — of being alive, Of being unique. Shattering an invisible grade school eggshell And reaching eagerly Into a mass of shimmering Bright-colored possibilities. Laying foundations of dreams While piles of gritty, gray concrete blocks And brown-glazed pipes At Bellmont Park begin a foundation For future dreamers. A time to be for Bellmont, A name, an emblem, a label — To yell lustily at games; To flaunt on heavy sweaters; To fill in confidently on college applications. A talismanic blue B smack in the middle Of a varnished yellow gym floor. The fame of Bellmont spreading As far into the world, like pollen on the wind. As students carry it. Scrawled initials in the shadows backstage Witness this is not the first, but better — The present, and a time to be for real. Above: Picking his guitar, Gayle Agler plays hit at the journalism dance. Left: Inspiring spirit during a time-out, Nora Brokaw takes the lead on a cheer. Right: Working through the winter months, workmen rushed for early completion of the school. Contents Theme 2 Student Life ... 10 Academics 24 Sports 52 Organizations . . 74 Album 96 Ads 150

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Far left: Barb Braun assists Mr. S. Clous at the Chamber of Commerce Santa Clous Lond. Left: Peggy Blomenberg and Alan Schroeder enter- tain at church ice cream social. Above: Jerry Steele and Bob Johnson find Spaceball a new exciting sport. Below: Ex- uberant fans celebrate a 40-0 victory at East Noble. Machines cannot replace joy— or God A time to be enthusiastic! Never halfway but always the extremes; Reaching for the heights, Trying for the whole cake and eating it quickly. Surge of triumph when Bellmont makes two (Come on you guys!) Heatedly defending the merits of Fords or Chevys; Unlimited joy as the radio announces at 6:30 a.m. That there will be no school for North Adams — Push aside undone homework and fall back To warm rumpled beds. (I like snow!) Yet a time to be down, really down. An orange IBM numbjr stamped on the forehead With triplicates on file. Persons don ' t exist for computers — Only numbers. (Just call me 296550.) A puppet with strings attached to the hands Of a clock; Is God dead? Snow covers ragged leaves in gutters But trees grow green again and spring smells good. There ' s hope and God too in a green leaf.