Broad Ripple High School - Riparian Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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With unsurpassed leadership and an invincible spirit, we the students of Broad Ripple have been privileged to take part in the most outstanding year in Ripple history. From the unconquerable seniors down to the green but vigorous freshmen, the spirit of Broad Ripple has mani- fested itself in the fervor and eagerness with which all activities have been pursued. The upperclassmen elected officers and organized into the junior and senior classes while the freshmen and sophomores entered into the rousing spirit of the times and assumed the responsibilities of furthering the fine traditions of our Banner Year. ilvL L £v Jv . . 14

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ALBERT Albert has been with us, always. He has been puttering around the farm since no one knows when. To this day Albert moves in the same time-consuming shuffle, and retains all of his age-old habits. Though he lives in the Small House, he eats in the kitchen of the Big House. Nowadays he eats alone, for younger men have gone away, possibly seeking more lucrative employment in war plants in the city. Albert eats pie. He loves pie. He also eats vegetables, providing they are green beans or potatoes or (on occasion) sliced tomatoes. Meat? Yes, if it isn ' t beef or pork or lamb. His preference runs to chicken backs and giblets. He doesn ' t like white meat or drumsticks. As he hovers over a choice chicken neck, one pauses to ask politely: How do you do, Albert? His invariable reply: Tollable, quite tollable. And how are you? One must reply: I ' m quite tolerable, too, thank you! He is very happy with his clothes — blue denim coveralls, painstakingly patched fore and aft with the best grade of burlap sack. He carefully washes his clothes each time he bathes, which is about twice a month. By carefully I mean he apparently tries to avoid getting either his clothes or himself wet. Albert now is the reincarnation of Uncle Tom, as played on the showboats, which he has seen pass many times from his vantage point on the banks of the Ohio River. Coal black extends up and back and down to the snow white fringe of hair. His face is framed by white sideburns and whiskers. His sparkling eyes belie his age, which he won ' t (or maybe can ' t) divulge. Folks say he came North by the Underground Railway. He doesn ' t know whether this is true or not, but he swears he remembers Grant and Sherman. It is said Albert still has the first dollar he ever earned. Perhaps this is true, for his wants are simple, and he has always been paid a fair monthly wage. Twice each year he receives a letter. It is not from a relative, for he has no known kinfolk. The letter comes from a bank, and folks guess it ' s a (request for Albert to come in and count his money. Anyway, he always takes a few days off after receiving that letter and comes back without saying where he has been, nor why. One thing is sure: He takes his time to feed the chickens or milk the cows; he is slow to hoe the cucumbers; he almost never gets around to picking the roasting ears. But when it comes to gathering watermelons, you should see him move! Ann M. Hutchison English VI WHOSE FAULT WAS IT? WAS IT MINE? Whose fault was it That he didn ' t come back When he went across the line? Was it that bond that I didn ' t buy, Or that piece of steel that caught in my eye? Whose fault was it? Was it mine? Whose fault was it That he didn ' t come back When he set sail with his ship? Was it just meant to be, Or was it the slip of my lip? Whose fault was it? Was it mine? Whose fault was it That he didn ' t come back When he went into the jungle of green? Could a Jap sniper have got him, Or was it a faulty machine? Whose fault was it? Was it mine? Roy Rhoads English III 13

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Officers of the best ever 1945 senior class pause in their caps and gowns to inspect their class prophesy. Left to right are Jack Pursel, president; Jacqueline Oakes, treasurer; Dorothy Newburg, secretary; and Floyd Chafee, vice-president. 15