by Lois Thornburg
It was the end of our junior year. A plan had long been discussed to throw Dr. Miller in the pool, because we all loved him so much I guess, and today was the day. I was to bring him to where many of our classmates were gathering, on the lawn beside Hill House.
I sat down with Miller at lunch in the cafeteria and wheedled him to go back to his office to show me what my final grade was, proffering some excuse about why I had to have it. I’m not sure he ever believed me, but he agreed to go. We walked out the basement doors, up the asphalt slope of the parking lot, crossed the street, and lo and behold, it looked like what Miller would later describe as some photogenic idyll of milling students right out of a teen movie.
As we climbed the steps to the side door of Hill, the crowd descended, picking up Miller and carrying him toward the pool. They started removing his watch, shoes, belt, and wallet as they rounded the back of Hill and got ready for launch.
Then Beverly Robinson caught Miller in air with her camera (see below) as Eugene, Doug, Johnny, Polly, and April, with some assists, heaved Miller in the water.
I remember Drs. Wilson and Baker and some others staring aghast out the windows of basement Hill. For the rest of us, including Miller I think, it was great fun.
Miller knew he was due soon at a faculty and administrators’ meeting and so headed straight there, sopping wet. The yearbook photo (below) captures him, hands outstretched, as he explains, “I’ve been thrown in the pool.” He still had to go home, change, and come back.
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