Robbinsdale High School - Robin Yearbook (Robbinsdale, MN)

Page 18 text:

 Shine it on during the weekend. The reins relax and you look for where it's at— which too often is where you were last week. But at least you'll have something to talk about on Monday. GUruW -hj AXJ JnSb$ UjfU j Oufc frfy • I V

Page 20 text:

 O' c-3 V ■w V £ o A M o ?» « t i- o $ %? f , ? $ i '% ? t, j’ 'i ? , jc .. i 0 ■s v 5 f y - « ? V nV Q° '0' ,H“'o1) c, 0 . ? -f V v «l V« ■ V,. v ? v? -S' 0 ■fV «? v V 2 C° f „0 £ V« f ? i 3: U» ■ P V V- • ' ? $ ■ Student Life f) § ? A f C7 N - $ Editor Sue Scharber The eight o'clock bell reached tanned ears that had heard summer come and go; for some it had slipped away too quickly, for others too slowly. The scurry of sweaty bodies clogged the stuffy halls. Sophomores, round-eyed with wonder, innocently asked directions to lost classrooms, while impatient juniors and seniors wore looks of superiority in vain attempts to hide revived enthusiasm. Time extinguished confusion, and the guy with the cool mustache and beard became the guy without the cool mustache and beard. Class transfers were somewhat finalized, books were tentatively covered, clubs were joined. RHS and its inhabitants slipped into their well-worn groove. With Fall came drama, new for some, old hat for others. Tryouts for the children's play. The Red Shoes, produced clusters of would-be actors earnestly reciting lines to other hopefuls or to brick walls that could offer neither praise nor criticism. The plot revolved around an obvious, modern theme of conforming to society's standards or facing the consequences. The children accepted this genuinely enough: they laughed when they thought laughter was called for, got antsy when they were bored, and didn't hesitate to ask mommy where the bathroom was when nature called. From the fascinated expressions on the kids' faces after meeting the characters, one would have thought that they had just seen Arlo Guthrie. Besides little people. The Red Shoes had a varied attendance of appreciative doting parents, RHSer's, and an occasional alumnus who, after the performance, nostalgically glanced about the familiar foyer in anticipation of the fast approaching Homecoming. Float construction commenced, and ideas relating to the slogan We're Robin' Richfield began to take the form of moneybags and gravestones. Guys, with their prospects narrowed down to one, finally got around to buying tickets for the dance, and their girls rushed to buy dresses or wildly whipped up Simplicity creations. By October 3, the rain puddles and leftover muck had just about disappeared, partially clearing the way for the purple and green float carrying Queen Sue Starleaf and her court. Parade crashers, including an interfering train and a number of uninvited cars, aggravated those who had to hurry to hair appointments, rip newspapers to confetti, or begin general preparation for the night's game. Dejected spirits over the loss to Richfield resulted in a crushed toe here and there at the dance, followed by mumbled obscenities. After letting loose with Faith and the Believers and arriving at their favorite night spot to eat, more often than not couples discovered with disgust that dancing privileges were denied because of the sale of liquor. Small frustrations grew as pressures from the outside world settled heavily upon the shoulders of the concerned .. . Moratorium Day, October 15, 1969. The typical RHS Polyanna outlook was temporarily smudged, and the apathetic student disposition stuck out like a sore thumb. Mourning displayed by black armbands was infrequent, but discussions and debates were held in Social classes, and murmurs pro and con about the war in Viet Nam could be heard throughout the day. Some students were excused with notes from home, or whatever, to attend the happenings downtown and on campus: marches, open panel discussions, and speeches presented by various prominent figures such as Julian Bond and Senator Mondale. It was a belated time for expression which stirred undying desires for peace, and left the nation anxiously awaiting President Nixon's strategic plan. 16—Student Life