Purdue University - Debris Yearbook (West Lafayette, IN)

Page 11 text:

KWH! The Village got a face-lifting, but the Corn Crib is still there Down the street from the corner of the campus is the center of our West Side civilization, the Vil. Harry's, Deacls, the Corn Crib, Bartlett's-could you count the number of times you have been there? Wlietliei' itls a bag of popcorn or an aspirin, we can find it in the Village. The yellow-slickered coed waiting for a bus and the pledge in front of the post oflice loaded down with laundry cases-these are you, the inhabitants of the Vil. A bustling thoroughfare of activity during the day, State Street applies a more somber face when night comes. The doors close, the lights dim, and we rest for another busy day. X

Page 10 text:

these portals PM 44-,Q5 say hello Tradition + a Part of Daily Life The race to a Saturday eight o'clock, the mad scramble to press that prom formal, those liquid picnics at Wildcat, and the jangle of activity keys- all represent a part of what we call life at Purdue. We are those forlorn souls who consume numerous cups of coffee and cigarettes cramming for that EE exam-the new sorority pledge that looks longingly at a fraternity pin-the proud P-Man who struts his letter sweater. But what do we do? How do we go about living, playing, and getting educated at Purdue? The honking mass of aged jalopies and spiffy new 51ers creeping sleepily along State Street gives the first 8:00 AM impression of University life. But we all are not so lucky to have wheels. Some of us walk -a few of the courageous actually run-along the banks of this stream of cars. Eventually most of us turn in at the Main Gate. Sleepy-eyed and book-laden we very seldom are aware of the iron gates that guard the State Street entrance, but since 1897 these portals have said hello to Purdue eds, alums, and visitors. The home ec girl or English maj or passes through the gates and walks along Hello Walk. The tradi- dition of this pathway is given a shot in the arm occasionally when some blighted pledge is compelled to salute each passer with an enthusiastic hello.,' The walk skirts another famous mark on the cam- pus, the Oval, the burial spot of John Purdue.

Page 12 text:

Bookstore . if Stand on the white line, please. But who can End the white line? After the maze of registration and when our schedule cards are the visas of the day, our first trip is usually to the bookstore. Pushing and shov- ing are the rule as Emily Post is forgotten in our quest for the most reasonable second-hand fpossibly third- or fourth-handj books. We all snicker at the joker who is desperately trying to barter his books that have been lately dropped from the list of Purdue textbooks. VVe decide, after journeying from one State Street book-nook to another, that each of these establishments should install the proverbial swinging door. 8